Huff! Argh! Damien's face twisted slightly in a tight frown. His breath ca in ragged bursts, his body screaming in agony. It felt as though fire licked at every muscle, burning him from the inside out.
Around him, dozens of corpses lay scattered, their bodies twisted at unnatural angles. Their eyes—frozen wide in shock—seed to still reflect the last monts of their terror. The scent of blood was thick in the air, mixing with the sweat rolling down his forehead. A single drop fell, splattering onto the ground like ink on parchnt.
Jasmine, her face pale, her hands trembling, took an unsteady step forward. Her voice, hoarse and uncertain, cut through the silence.
"B-big brother, are you okay?"
Hearing her warm concern, Damien's indifferent expression softened slightly, a smile forming on his lips.
"Ahhh! What could happen to ? Worry about yourself, little girl."
At that mont, a cascade of blue screens flooded his vision.
[Negative Karma completely negated.]
[Ranking updated: 08.]
[You are ready to begin your next journey. Hope you don't fail this ti.]
Damien had expected this. His gaze skimd over the windows, uninterested—until he saw the last ssage. His pupils contracted.
"Don't fail this ti..."
A cold, creeping sensation settled in his chest.
What do you an by 'don't fail this ti'? Isn't this my first ti here?
He asked the question in his mind, but the system remained silent. No answer. Just an eerie weight pressing down on his thoughts.
Shaking off the unease, Damien took a deep breath, forcing his heart to steady. His eyes flickered across the remaining survivors.
Of the original thousand, only ten remained.
Six n. Four won. And one girl.
So sat on the ground, exhausted. Others let out long, weary sighs. But none of them looked shocked—not in the way he had expected.
"Could it be that I'm the only one...?"
The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed through the bloodstained ground.
A middle-aged man approached, his aura calm yet oppressive. His every step carried an air of practiced grace. The longsword in his hand—eerily similar to a katana from Earth—dripped with fresh blood, the crimson liquid trailing behind him like ink bleeding into water.
He stopped a few ters away from Damien.
All eyes turned toward him. Silence stretched, heavy and expectant. Even Jasmine flinched, instinctively shrinking back. Her small hands gripped Damien's sleeve, her body trembling.
Damien finally turned his gaze to the man. His face was devoid of emotion, his expression so empty it was as if he didn't even see the man standing before him.
The swordsman coughed lightly, then spoke in a voice filled with quiet authority.
"Surrender." His words carried a weight that demanded obedience. "Seeing how you protected this young girl, I will grant you a painless death."
A bitter chuckle nearly escaped Damien's lips.
Killing without blinking...
The swordsman's eyes were unreadable as he continued, his voice as steady as ever.
"Young man, you are a natural-born demon. People like you deserve no second chances."
Murmurs of agreent rippled through the remaining survivors. They had seen it firsthand—the way Damien had cut down his fellow reincarnators with chilling efficiency.
No hesitation. No remorse. Only supre indifference.
"Yeah, he's too dangerous. If soone like him is allowed to reincarnate, countless lives will be lost!"
A noble-looking woman with a curvaceous figure crossed her arms, her expression hard.
"Monsters like him don't deserve to be reborn."
Her words acted as a spark. Others followed.
"Right! He's a lunatic!"
"If this bastard leaves, no woman will be safe!"
Damien's eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't give a damn about their accusations. If anything, he felt like laughing.
A bunch of hypocritical bastards.
But beneath their words, he sensed sothing deeper. A whispering current in the darkness, guiding their emotions, nudging them toward a single conclusion.
Soone wanted him dead.
And it wasn't these self-righteous fools.
A shadow flickered in his thoughts—the towering figure of the Master of Reincarnation.
For a brief mont, suspicion crept into his mind.
Could it be...?
No. He dismissed the idea imdiately.
If an entity like that wanted him dead, he'd be dead. Simple as that.
A sudden, razor-sharp instinct scread in his mind.
Danger.
Before he could think, his body moved. He twisted to the side—just barely dodging a dagger aid at his throat.
A familiar voice slipped from his lips, filled with quiet disbelief.
"Jasmine...?"
His gaze locked onto the attacker.
The girl who he had treated as his little sister. The girl he had protected.
Jasmine stood frozen, her eyes wide, her face twisted in confusion. As if even she didn't understand why she had attacked him.
Then, sothing shifted. Her pupils trembled, and the cold, emotionless glaze vanished from her expression.
Her lips parted. "Brother, it wasn't ! I don't know what happened!"
Damien didn't respond. He simply took a step back.
Sothing was very wrong with these people.
A gut instinct, raw and undeniable, scread at him.
Run.
He turned on his heel and sprinted.
A flurry of voices rose behind him.
"Don't let that demon escape!"
The chase began.
---
Damien didn't know how long he had been running.
His lungs burned. His legs scread. But the footsteps behind him never stopped.
His pursuers—they weren't stopping.
"Dammit..."
His vision blurred. His body reached its limit.
His steps faltered.
Then—he collapsed.
In the next instant, the remaining survivors surrounded him.
Their faces were wrong—twisted, unnatural. So ran with their eyes closed, as if moving purely on instinct.
The oppressive feeling deepened.
Sothing unseen... sothing watching...
And Damien, lying on the ground, gritted his teeth.
"Just you fucking wait..."
Hatred burned in his chest. Not for these puppets.
But for the entity pulling the strings.
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