Bailonz Street 13

The sword returned to me like a black boomerang. Unless the intention was to send it back, it must always return like this.

I kicked off the ground and approached him. But just a few steps away, I was pushed back by an invisible force. Similar to what had attacked Owen before, but weaker.

It was like hunting rabbits. He was toying with me in his grasp. Knowing he could easily crush me if he lost interest, I had no choice but to move more desperately. I had to face him with my power alone.

I deflected spikes that suddenly jutted from the ground with my sword. Immediately one, then another attacked me. Just a little slower and I’d be stabbed or cut.

My nerves were in an extremely heightened state. This was… well, a kind of awakened state. My heart was pounding and my mind racing like I’d drunk ten cups of caffeinated drinks.

Clang! My hand tingled. The sword rang out with each collision. I worried it might break, but couldn’t stop. Could only vaguely hope it would hold up. Though it looked fragile being transparent like glass, it wasn’t entirely weak.

How did Liam fight? I should have learned from him normally.

The king muttered like a sigh while lazily moving his hand:

“Of all people, you met William Moore after falling here. How troublesome.”

I was the one surprised by the sudden comment. Suddenly? Why say that?

“Why?”

His yellow eyes stared at me as if piercing through.

“You only received good influences. The first button was fastened wrong. If I’d crushed your mind from the start, made you unable to think at all, there wouldn’t be this trouble. But impudently… someone diverted you. How dare they?”

“Diverted? Then… you’re saying someone else’s will made me start the game at Bailonz Street?”

“That could be one interpretation.”

What’s with the ‘interpretation’? Just say yes if yes, no if no. Really twisting words here.

It was divine providence that when I entered the game, I met Liam Moore first instead of strange beings.

‘Someone intervened. Not wanting me to be in danger, they chose someone who would protect me and could fall in love with me.’

A man made for love. How sorrowful and pitiful.

However, my quickly becoming close to Liam Moore and learning about his secrets and the strange monsters of this place must have been unexpected.

Whoever made me meet Liam probably just hoped I could return safely. That I would leave safely before the Black King noticed.

That would have bought some time until the next person flowed through the world’s gap.

Though failing that was the drawback.

The Black King twisted his lips and snapped his fingers.

“Not giving up.”

Bang!

A sharp pain shot up my arm. My shoulder felt heavily stiff. I must have collided wrong. If my shoulder was twisted it needed to be reset, but he wouldn’t give time for repairs. With no choice, I gripped the sword with both hands.

“There’s one thing you’re mistaken about.”

Bang!

My body was pushed back. My feet dug into the stone floor as I was dragged backward.

Before his overwhelming power, I couldn’t get close to him for even a moment. How could this be? How could he use such power when it wasn’t even his real body?

Truth was speaking. When borrowing human form, corresponding restrictions apply: one can’t use a god’s full abilities. But now he was transcending human limitations. In other words… how to put it… it was similar to breaking level restrictions on his own.

‘How?’

My insides turned. Something, truly like the pain of ruptured organs, rose from within. Before I could retch, blood suddenly flowed from my mouth. My burning throat was screaming that something was wrong.

“You should dodge or deflect, but you try to clash head-on, so your body can’t handle it.”

“You know, in my country we call this ‘giving the disease then selling the cure’… damn it!”

“Head.”

This is really tricky. Clutching my stomach, I hurriedly ducked. Something sharp sliced through where my head had been.

The king who was tossing me around evaluated:

“Your reaction speed isn’t bad. But you lack decisive power. No technique either. Haven’t you learned to use spells?”

“What use would learning that have?”

“Haha. Well, you might achieve the feat of being the first human to kill a god.”

“Do you want to die?”

“Of course not.”

As heat rose to my head, my filter seemed to break. Nonsense kept spilling out. Speaking freely, I walked forward again step by step.

It was like walking through a pool filled with sticky jelly. Like trying to run instead of swimming in water, resistance could be felt throughout my body. An unpleasant sensation like being stuck in spider webs.

That climbed up my arms, healing my twisted shoulder and ruptured organs. I didn’t want to experience recovery by the Black King’s power. Though the pain that had been scratching at me vanished instantly, the feeling remained unpleasant.

As I straightened up, the king shrugged. His attitude was arrogant, as if this much was nothing difficult.

“Skip the thanks. Now, shall we try again?”

He was smiling while looking at me coldly.

“Come. Properly this time.”

His attitude really made me get used to it.

* * *

After burning the second altar, Herschel Hopkins met Owen Cassfire, who had returned from destroying another altar. The young sage approached with a complex expression and spoke:

“There are too many altars. What should we do?”

“But look. The rift’s speed has clearly decreased from before.”

Following Herschel’s words, Owen looked up.

Though certainly better than before, it wasn’t good either. Drawing out meaningful change was certainly cause for celebration. But Owen Cassfire was someone who needed to look at the essence of this matter and grasp the problem. Not think romantically.

While Liam Moore optimistically thought destroying these would reduce the Black King’s power, Owen’s insight differed.

The fundamental cause lay with the young lady named Jane Osmond.

More precisely, with the strange being inhabiting her body.

“Herschel. Don’t be surprised, but listen. The reason that opened is Miss Jane Osmond herself.”

At Owen’s words, Herschel’s eyes went round. His blank expression suggested he hadn’t even guessed this possibility.

“It’s to cross over to that opposite world through Miss Jane Osmond. In other words, she’s the ‘key’.”

“But… why did it have to be Miss Jane Osmond?”

“Because she’s the person who came through the gap. Who could have known? That someone from another world had flowed in.”

Yes, that was something no one could have known. That one claiming to be Chaos would bring destruction, that they would try to break one world and overlay it onto another. Even the most skilled prophet couldn’t have predicted such things.

All of it happened simply because Jane Osmond existed in this world.

With complicated feelings, Herschel buried his face in both hands. Fortunately, other Greenwich people didn’t know this fact.

Owen Cassfire firmly cautioned:

“Don’t speak of this carelessly anywhere. Let’s discuss countermeasures just between us for now.”

If Greenwich knew, they would have dealt with Jane Osmond immediately. That’s what protection meant. The sacrifice of the few for the many. If it meant removing one person to save an entire world, they would surely step forward gladly, feeling only slight guilt. They were people who thought only of the world’s continuation.

Owen had watched many battles while maintaining the middle path.

Even in Greenwich there were reformists saying ‘we mustn’t blindly sacrifice the minority’ and conservatives saying ‘if we don’t sacrifice the minority, more people will die when greater disaster comes’.

Though Herschel Hopkins still maintained his conservative position, since losing his wife he had partly sympathized with the reformist view. At least from what Owen had seen of him so far, he obviously wouldn’t agree to eliminating Jane Osmond. Especially if the person to be sacrificed was his godson’s only love.

“Greenwich mustn’t know.”

Herschel rubbed his tired face once and muttered:

“You don’t need to tell me that.”

A smile appeared on Owen’s pale face. He knew he would answer like this. He had aimed for this response.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Though Herschel Hopkins’ delinquent godson evaluated his godfather as cold and unconcerned with the weight of the world, Owen knew. That Liam Moore’s judgment was sometimes wrong. When it came to matters concerning his child-like godson, Herschel Hopkins was someone who could readily throw away his life.

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