This was not what I expected at all.
Of course, I didn’t expect a happy reunion with all hugs and smiles, but... what the hell?
How does he even know that I died?
That happened earlier this morning.
I spoke slowly and cautiously, staring at the gun pointed at my forehead.
"I’m ," I said, letting out a soft exhale. "Dustin Omnia Walters."
As I said that, I observed his expression. His hardened jaw loosened slightly, and his narrowed eyes widened a bit.
Then I stared at the gun.
Would I die if I were shot by a bullet right now?
I blinked.
No, wrong question.
I should be asking... can I dodge a bullet right now?
"Duz, who’s this guy?" Marcus’s thick voice stread out, wary and uneasy.
I moved my neck slightly, eyes finding his thoroughly exhausted visage. But sohow, he still stood firmly, glaring intensely at Jericho while breathing as heavily as an overfed pig.
"Just stay where you are, Marcus," I said with a warning tone.
This Jericho guy is a bit crazy.
Marcus clenched his fists tightly and tensed his jaw as he slowly nodded.
"That makes no sense," Jericho said.
I faced forward, staring at the gun still pointed at my forehead.
A deep frown manifested on my face as my forehead wrinkled.
This is getting rather annoying.
I sneered. "What doesn’t? I went out this morning, and I couldn’t co back this evening because the–"
Jericho’s wry smile faded. One of his eyes widened, while the other remained narrowed as he tilted his head. "This morning?" He scoffed.
"Dustin died during winter five months ago! He died in Gando alley! I’m sure of it..."
My eyes widened, and my heartbeat spiked as my breathing grew uneven.
"What?" I asked. A question to both him and . And to the system and the universe itself. "What are you talking about?"
Jericho lowered his gun, shaking his head.
[Passive Skill {Cold-Blooded} is faltering...]
My pupils began to tremble. Jericho’s figure almost blurred in my vision as I stared at him.
Everywhere appeared foggy and cloudy, like the world had been blurred by the confusion I felt.
I breathed in and out, fighting and struggling to breathe as breathing was the only thing that made sense right now.
I staggered backward, shaking my head.
[Passive Skill {Cold-Blooded Activated.]
My breath cald down, and my heartbeat relaxed, filling with a fleeting sense of ease.
I stood firmly, narrowing my eyes and gathering my thoughts.
It makes sense.
It was winter when I ’died,’ and not winter when I was resurrected.
I exhaled.
This should be sothing less shocking to than being resurrected from death or getting my wish for world destruction granted. Or even gaining three systems and witnessing the world slowly crumble from an influx of monsters.
I clenched my fists.
Get a hold of yourself, Dustin.
"But, that stupid ass reply..." Jericho said, his lips stretching into a smile. A genuine one this ti.
That cald the tension that ate at my bones a little bit.
So unpredictable, this fucker.
"It is you." Jericho completed.
I wanted to smile back at him, but I didn’t.
The bastard pointed a gun at my head earlier.
I’m not gonna forgive or forget it that easily.
I nodded.
Jericho put a hand on his chin. "Hmm."
His blue gaze surveyed my entire body, scanning thoroughly.
"But you look less skinny." He said, "In fact, you look rather muscular. But still slim." He let out a soft chuckle, "What do they call it these days? Sleeper build?"
My frown deepened.
I’m...lean muscular.
...Is that even a thing?
I sneaked a glance at my body.
I didn’t even notice the muscles.
"Thank you!" Marcus chid in from behind .
Oh, yeah. I forgot this guy exists.
"That’s the sa thing I said." Marcus completed.
Jerry’s focus snapped, his attention fixated on Marcus, who stood behind .
"And who is you?" He asked with a casual tone.
I stood quietly.
Marcus nudged my shoulder.
I turned to look at him. "What?"
He pointed his head toward Jerry.
I cocked a brow.
Oh.
He wants to introduce them?
My frown dissolved.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
Nah.
"Didn’t you hear the question, Uncle Bright Smile?" Jericho asked.
Marcus’s smile faded. "Uncle?"
Heh.
Unc.
While looking at Unc, I pointed at Jericho. "Marcus, this is Jericho. The guy I told you about. The one I ca here to find." I said, trying to dissuade whatever new tension threatened to brim.
I turned to Jericho, pointing at Marcus. "And Jerry, this is Marcus. A guy I t on my way here. He’s a.. good–"
"Yeah, he does look like a goody two-shoes." Jericho nodded, almost chuckling.
"Goody two-shoes?" Marcus said, bewildered. "I’m not!"
I shrugged.
You kinda are, buddy.
Jerry raised his arms in a surrendering position. "Okay, Mr. Uncle."
"I’m not an ’Uncle.’ I’m a young man in my early twenties." Marcus spouted.
This is entertaining.
"Well, I asked you who you are, and you didn’t answer. So I’ll call you Unc from now on. I an, you do look and talk like one."
Marcus’s glare burned my back.
It seed he noticed smiling and genuinely enjoying this little tussle.
Still, Marcus didn’t relent. "You asked , ’who is you?’ That’s not a proper way to ask for an introduction, is it? Plus, Dustin already told you who I–"
"I don’t like n who aren’t able to speak up for themselves. What’s the point in being able to speak if you can’t speak for yourself?" Jericho said, walking toward .
Marcus’s mouth opened to speak, but nothing ca out.
Until, finally, he uttered, "So that ans you like n?"
I paused. "Pfft."
Jericho halted, turning toward Marcus.
He pointed his gun at Marcus’s forehead. "What the fuck?"
Barely cocking in the laughter, I gestured to Jericho. "Put the gun down, man."
Jerry’s frown deepened as he brought the gun down, staring at . "Who the hell is this guy?"
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