My Friend and I Reincarnated Into a Tragedy Dating Game

Chapter 91: Damn Old Man

To be honest, I didn't really want to hear about some old man's story. However, considering the difference in our power, it wasn't like I really had a choice in the first place.

"Please go on ahead and tell me about your life."

He nodded a few times before deciding to start.

"I imagine my situation was actually quite similar to yours. From what I have investigated, I should be a person that was born into a noble family. However, unlike my brothers and sisters that had a high magical affinity, I actually had none."

...Wait, how did he know that my situation was similar?

Several thoughts swirled around in my mind before a random thought suddenly popped into my head. Didn't the book say something about the north of the forest being the place where the guy that mastered Divine Arts was?

Unable to suppress my curiosity, I ended up asking him.

"Wait, are you the so-called sage or something of Divine Arts?"

The old man raised an eyebrow before laughing.

"So you do know who I am! Yes, that is correct, but that is more of a title that people have given me."

Holy shit. He was actually here the entire time? Did that mean there was some sort of way to meet with him after reaching this part in the game?

Wait, that doesn't matter anymore. Why am I thinking of the game again?

Seeing me pause, the old man decided to continue.

"From what I recall, there are people that say there is such a thing as Dark Arts and Divine Arts?"

I slowly nodded, though that wasn't actually something I knew from the game.

"Yeah, there was this book dude that was a guy that used Dark Arts and told me to come here to meet you. Apparently, you can use divine arts if you are enlightened?"

The old man narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

"You see, the truth is Dark Arts and Divine Arts are the same thing. For some reason, people are rather insistent on labeling them as different things."

I blinked a few times.

"What. So you're telling me that I can do the things you just did as well?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"It's not exactly off the table, though it may be difficult."

The zombie girl had run up to the old man's leg and hugged it, prompting him to pat her head a few times. He took a deep breath before looking to the side.

"I'm sure you've been through it as well, being outcast by your family due to your talent in magic. Though, you probably understand that better than I do. From what I've heard from other people, I went off to live in the streets, doing what I could to survive. Eventually, I was taken in by a family and raised by them, but I can't be sure of which one that was."

The old man was looking at the symbols on the walls, observing them rather intently.

"Nobody seems to know when exactly, but I eventually discovered these powers that I had. From what I understand now, they normally start out close to a pitch-black color. Though, it always shone bright yellow when I used it."

He blinked a few times as the smile on his face grew ever so slightly.

"Apparently, I was a bit of a mischievous child, as the first thing I ended up doing was directly banishing my family and the mansion they were in out of existence. I do believe that it wasn't intentional, but I can't be all that sure."

...That's being mischievous? Wiping people out of existence?

The old man tilted his head to the side.

"Apparently for quite a while, people hailed me as a god, and despite trying to move away, people still began doing that as well soon after I had arrived no matter where I went. It appears my feats were far too strong."

He then looked at the zombie child, who had let go of him at some point and began running around the place like a free spirit.

"At some point or another, I came across this child. I'm not sure what our interaction with each other was, as I was unable to find out from other people and this child is no longer able to talk. But what I do understand is that I am to stay by her side so long as she wishes someone to stay with her. By the way, I recall that she was the one that made these clothes for me. Aren't they nice?"

...Well, I guess that explains his get-up.

The old man closed his eyes.

"The only thing I truly know for sure is that I wished to live."

I scratched the side of my head.

"So it looks like all your memories were wiped out because you overused your abilities."

The old man laughed the loudest he had yet before shaking his head.

"No, no. Not overused. There is the cost of losing your memories from using this ability, but there also comes a second function."

He raised his finger into the air.

"For every second of memory that you lose, even if it is while unconscious, your body also survives for a second longer. I've used this ability on purpose countless times to allow me to stay on this Earth for a little while longer."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I see. That means I must avoid using it at all costs."

The old man looked at me with confusion.

"Hm? What's wrong? Those that are able to use this can essentially obtain immortality. It's not as though memories are exactly difficult to acquire."

I stared back at him blankly.

"Why would I want to live even a second longer, when living is already this damn painful?"

The old man fell silent after hearing that. For a while, there were only the soft sounds of the zombie girl's footsteps. She still had that curious look that didn't really fit the situation at hand.

The old man let out a long sigh.

"I suppose if that's how you think, then your ability isn't exactly suited to you. Or at least, the you that is in control currently."

I smirked.

"It isn't suited for the other person either. The only thing he did was kill countless people, including his own sister."

Despite fully expecting Bryson to talk back in my mind, he didn't actually say anything. Actually, I can't recall the last time that he spoke. Though, before I could think more on that, the old man spoke.

"Hm... What color was his application of power then, may I know?"

I blinked a few times.

"...It was pitch black. So I guess he wasn't enlightened enough or something?"

A small smile had formed on the old man's face.

"It appears your friend didn't truly understand his own desires."

"What does that even mean?"

To my puzzled look, he put both hands behind his back and began walking to another side of the room. He stared at the wall intently before speaking.

"These powers only manifest when you strongly command upon your desires. The clearer your mind, and the clearer your intentions, the stronger this power is. However, the way that it manifests will depend on what that desire truly means. For most, they will be very erratic, usually manifesting into the form of many different animals or objects."

The old man put one finger against the wall and slowly traced it against the wall.

"This happens when what one believes is their desire is actually quite different from what they truly desire. Only when one comes to understand themselves more, and begin staying true to their mind, will this power instead manifest to become a dazzling yellow. There aren't any complex objects or animals formed when used this way."

He chuckled.

"Instead, it just appears as a golden beam a grand majority of the time. However, the actual power is incomparable to what it could be while pitch black. While most have labeled them as Dark Arts and Divine Arts, the name I personally gave it was Desire Manifestation. I suppose I could understand why certain people separated them and considered mastering it to be related to enlightenment."

Huh. That is kinda crazy. So it seems that Bryson's true desires weren't actually to murder nearly everyone in the kingdom. However, they ended up manifesting in that way. Then what was his actual desire that made him do all of that in the first place then?

Well, I could find that out later.

"You remember quite a lot despite the fact your memories should've been wiped. How did you do that?"

The old man smiled before gesturing to the walls.

"I document them."

"...Huh?"

The old man chuckled.

"One thing I've noticed is that while my memories can be wiped, my ability to speak is never impaired. As such, I've attempted to transcribe every single event that happened in my life and turn them into a language so I can remember it all. Every single symbol on the wall is another character that represents a part of my memories."

My eyes widened ever so slightly and took another look around the place. Now knowing that all these symbols supposedly represented different parts of his life felt a bit strange.

"Woah, sounds like a total cheat to the system."

The old man shrugged his shoulders.

"If it worked, then yes it would. But to be frank, it wasn't the most successful. Some things I can remember, and other things I can't. However, it worked fine enough. If you wouldn't mind, could you create a symbol you think represents you on this wall?"

He pointed to a small section that was blank.

Though I really didn't care to, I found myself nodding, and not because he had the power to absolutely obliterate me.

"Alright, how do I make it?"

The old man waved his hand.

"Just point at it and have an image. I should be able to do the rest."

While a tad bit confused, I walked over and decided to do as he said. In just a second, a bright light flashed in the area I was pointing at, and the image that I had imagined formed on the wall.

On that image was both a hand and a neck. However, there was also a dagger in the hand pointing at the neck. From the way the hand looked, one could tell that the hand and neck belonged to the same person.

In other words, it was a picture of someone holding a knife to their throat.

The old man walked over and looked at it with furrowed brows.

"What is this supposed to mean?"

I remained silent for a decent amount of time. After gathering my thoughts for a while, I spoke softly.

"It's a symbol of hope."

The old man turned to me with a slightly angry expression.

"How is this-"

However, before he finished he paused. A complicated expression formed on his face before he suddenly began smiling and laughing.

"So that's what it was!"

He was nearly in tears as he laughed, interrupting himself.

"From our initial conversation, I imagined that we were actually more different than I thought, haha!"

The old man calmed down and showed me a gentle smile.

"But now I see that we are actually far more similar than I initially believed."

...Damn this old man.

How'd he even fucking figure that out?

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