"Do you know...how long... I've been waiting for this?"
Each word made Freed's trigger finger twitch against the light gun pressed to my forehead. His grin faltered for a moment, confusion bleeding into those red eyes like ink spreading through water. The psychotic exorcist had probably expected tears, begging, the usual symphony of terror his victims composed before he conducted their final movement.
Instead, I laughed.
The sound bubbled up from my chest despite the agony radiating through my arm, despite the holy light gathering at the barrel inches from my skull, despite every survival instinct screaming that antagonizing an armed lunatic was a terrible fucking idea. But the absurdity was too perfect, too beautifully ironic to contain. Here was Freed Sellzen, the white-haired psychopath who'd been haunting the edges of canon like a persistent rash, finally making his move exactly when I'd been planning to hunt him down myself.
He'd saved me the trouble of tracking him to the hole he'd been hiding in.
"What's so funny, you Devil-loving piece of shit?!" Freed's voice cracked on the last word, that manic enthusiasm curdling into genuine bewilderment. The gun barrel pressed harder against my forehead, holy energy searing my skin where it made contact. "I just put a hole in your arm! You're bleeding all over your nice floor! And I'm about to scramble your brains into a fucking omelet!"
His free hand gestured wildly with the light sword, the blade leaving tracers of illumination in the dim hallway.
I met his eyes through the pain, letting my own grin stretch wider until it probably mirrored the unhinged expression he wore like a second skin. Blood still dripped from my wounded arm, pooling beneath me in dark rivulets that caught the glow from his weapons. The bullet wound pulsed with each heartbeat, sending fresh waves of suffering through my nervous system. But pain was temporary, and opportunities like this were rare.
"Because....you just walked into the wrong fucking house!"
My right arm erupted in pitch black.
*FWOOSH*
Armament Haki coated the wounded limb from shoulder to fingertips, turning flesh into something harder than steel. The transformation happened faster than Freed could process, faster than his finger could squeeze the trigger. The holy bullet lodged in my muscle met the hardened surface from the inside,
The bullet tore free from my flesh with a wet squelch, clattering to the floor between us.
Freed's eyes went wide "What the fu—"
Pain became background noise as I surged to my feet, Haki-coated arm already swinging in a vicious arc toward his gun hand. The psychotic exorcist's reflexes were good but surprise was a hell of an advantage. My fist connected with his wrist before he could adjust his aim.
*CRACK*
His bone splintered by the impact of black-coated knuckles. The light gun went flying, its glow extinguishing mid-arc as it spun across the living room and embedded itself in the far wall. Freed howled, jerking backward while cradling his shattered wrist against his chest.
"HAHAHAHA! Now we're talking!" Freed's grin split his face from ear to ear, all teeth and madness and absolutely zero self-preservation. His injured wrist hung at an unnatural angle, but he held his light sword in his good hand like it was an extension of his soul "Finally! Someone who doesn't just cry and beg! This is gonna be so much fun!!!"
He lunged with his light sword, aimed at my throat with the murder intent most people reserved for swatting flies. Holy energy blazed along the blade's edge, bright enough to hurt my eyes in the darkened apartment. Freed moved with fluidity despite his injury, his face twisted into ecstatic violence.
I threw myself sideways, letting the blade pass close enough to feel its heat singe the air beside my neck. My hand shot out mid-dodge, fingers closing around empty space as I channeled the power I'd been saving for exactly this kind of situation.
The floor beneath Freed's feet responded to my will.
Stone and wood warped upward in jagged spikes, erupting from the floorboards like teeth from some buried predator's maw. Earthbending tore through the apartment's foundation with catastrophic force, transforming stable ground into a deathtrap of stone pillars that reached for Freed's legs.
"Holy shit!" The exorcist's gleeful shout echoed off the walls as he twisted mid-stride, light sword flashing down to sever the nearest spike before it could impale his thigh "You're one of those with freaky super powers! This is even better than they told me!"
*CRASH*
He didn't dodge the second spike. The stone pillar caught him in the ribs, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into the ceiling with enough force to crack plaster. Debris rained down as Freed fell back to earth, landing in a crouch that would've looked graceful if not for the way he was wheezing through what had to be broken ribs.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He licked it away with his tongue, grin never wavering despite the odds not in his favour.
"That's the best you got?!" Freed's voice came out like a junkie who'd just found his next fix "Come on! The Fallen Angels said you were dangerous! Show me some real violence! You piece of shit!!!"
So, he was sent by Fallen Angels. Not acting on his own?
How much did they know?
"Getting quiet on me?" Freed stood, bones creaking audibly as broken ribs ground together beneath his coat. He spat blood onto my floor, light sword still blazing in his good hand "That's boring! I hate boring stuff! Let's open some new doors, yeah? Maybe I'll cut off your arms first! Then your legs! Keep you nice and alive for the trip back to the church!"
I see, The Fallen Angels wanted me alive, which meant they were accelerating their timeline. Canon was moving faster than I'd calculated, events compressing like a spring wound too tight. And here was Freed, grinning like a maniac with the enthusiasm of someone planning for his first birthday party.
I needed information. But more than that, I needed him to stop talking.
"You know what I hate?" I said, meeting his gaze "Chatty psychopaths who think they're the main character"
Freed's grin somehow widened further "Oh? And what're you gonna do about i—"
In the next moment, the floor beneath him into a pit.
The stone dropped away without warning, opening a six-foot hole directly under Freed's feet, dragging the exorcist down into darkness with a startled yelp that was almost funny. His light sword carved glowing furrows in the pit's walls as he tried to catch himself, but failing miserably.
*THUD*
He hit the bottom hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs.
I walked to the edge, looking down at Freed sprawled in the improvised trap like a bug trapped in a hole. Blood matted his hair where his head had struck stone. The light sword lay in his hand, its glow dimming but not extinguished. He groaned, trying to push himself up on his good arm.
Then his head snapped toward me, and the grin returned.
"Nice trick!" Freed's laugh echoed from the pit's depths, bouncing off stone walls I'd created. "Real nice! But you're gonna need better than party tricks to keep me down!"
He grabbed his light sword, holy energy flaring bright as he prepared to cut handholds in the pit wall. The genius exorcist was already calculating his escape, already planning his next attack. His injured wrist hung useless, his ribs were definitely broken, and blood covered half his face.
But he was still grinning.
Still laughing.
Still eager for more violence.
Stone flowed like water, sealing the hole with a grinding roar of displaced rock. Freed's muffled shout of surprise got cut off as tons of earth and foundation closed over the opening. The floor returned to its original shape, smooth and unmarked except for the cracks radiating from where the pit had been.
Silence settled over the apartment like a shroud.
I stood there for a long moment, listening to the faint sounds of Freed cursing and hacking at the stone from below. I'd made the prison three feet thick on all sides, compressed stone that would take even a light sword significant time to carve through. Enough time for me to catch my breath, assess the damage, and figure out what the fuck to do with a captured exorcist.
Then I felt it.
The stone beneath my feet vibrated with impacts. Freed was attacking the prison floor with everything he had, holy energy burning through rock inch by patient inch. The maniac was actually working his way free through sheer stubborn violence.
I knelt beside the sealed pit, pressing my Haki-coated palm against the stone. Through the connection, I could sense Freed's movements below—frantic, aggressive, completely unhinged. The light sword carved through my trap like a blowtorch through ice, slower than I'd like but steady. He'd be out in minutes, maybe less.
It's time to end this properly.
I opened a small hole in the trap, just large enough for my arm. Freed's maniacal laughter grew louder through the opening, echoing from the pit below with undiminished enthusiasm.
"Giving up already?" Freed's voice drifted up, breathless but gleeful "Just gonna seal me in here? That's no fun! I thought we were having a moment!"
"We are" I said "Just not the kind you're expecting"
I dropped through the opening after I decided to not damage my house further.
The fall was short, maybe six feet. I landed in a crouch beside Freed, Haki already flaring across both arms in preparation for what came next. The pit was cramped, barely enough room for two people to stand side by side. Freed's light sword illuminated the space with holy radiance, casting our shadows on stone walls in grotesque angles.
The exorcist's eyes lit up when he saw me.
"Now you're talking my language!" Freed swung his light sword in a horizontal arc designed to bisect me at the waist. "Close quarters! Personal! This is how you really get to kill someone!"
I caught the blade in my Haki-coated hands.
Holy energy sizzled against the black coating, steam rising from where light met armament. The sword vibrated in my grip, Freed pushing with manic strength while I held firm. We stood locked together in the confined space, faces inches apart, close enough for me to see the absolutely unhinged joy in those red eyes.
Close enough to smell the scent of blood on his breath.
"You're strong! The Fallen Angels said you were just some weak human who got lucky! But this...this is real power! I can feel it trying to crush my sword! Are you gonna kill me? Hahahaha!!!!"
Instead of answering, I twisted my grip and shattered the light blade.
*SHATTER*
The holy sword exploded into particles of golden light, fragments dissipating into the air like dying fireflies. Freed's eyes went wide for the first time since this fight began, genuine shock replacing the manic glee for exactly one heartbeat.
Then I grabbed him by the throat.
Haki-enhanced fingers closed around his windpipe with enough pressure to restrict airflow. Freed's good hand clawed at my wrist, nails scraping uselessly against hardened flesh. His broken wrist swung limply.
Useless.
Without his weapons, without space to hop around, the genius exorcist was just a petty psychopath choking in the dark.
"Listen very carefully" I said, keeping my voice level despite the rage building within my chest "I'm going to ask you questions. You're going to answer them. If you lie, I'll know. If you refuse, this gets worse. Understand?"
Freed's grin never completely faded, even while oxygen deprivation turned his face red.
He nodded, just barely.
I loosened my grip enough for him to breathe. Freed sucked in air with a wet gasp, coughing blood onto my shirt. When he looked up, that fucking grin was back at full strength.
"You want info?" His voice came out raspy but eager. "Sure! I'll tell you everything! The Fallen Angels' plans, why they sent me, how many of them are at the church. I'll spill it all!"
The offer came too easily.
"In exchange for what?" I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it.
"Let me go!" Freed's laugh echoed in the stone prison, genuine and unhinged. "I'll run far away, won't bother you again! I'll even throw in some juicy details about what they're planning to do to that dumb nun! Really fucked up stuff! You'd love it!"
He was lying through his teeth and didn't even bother hiding it well.
The moment I released him, Freed would attack. He'd carve his way out of this pit, grab another weapon, and come at me with everything he had. Because that's what battle maniacs did, they fought until someone died. Preferably in the most violent, drawn-out way possible.
Intel from him was worthless. I already knew where the church was, already knew Raynare's plan.
What I needed from Freed Sellzen wasn't information.
"Actually" I said "I only need one thing from you"
My free hand swiped across his forehead.
The DISC manifested slowly, reality warping around the side of his head, as otherworldly energy coalesced into tangible form. Translucent and crystalline, the disc shimmered with an inner light that had nothing to do with holy power.
Freed's eyes locked onto it, and for the first time, I saw genuine fear flash across his face.
"W-what is that?" His usual confidence cracked like ice over deep water. "What the fuck is that thing? What are you doing to me?!"
"Your skills might be useful," I said, reaching out for the DISC from his skull "Let's see what's in that rotten head"
Freed thrashed in my grip, suddenly desperate in a way he hadn't been when facing death. His good hand grabbed my wrist with surprising strength, nails drawing blood through my shirt. The broken wrist swung uselessly, unable to help as I got a grip on the DISC against his forehead.
"Stay away from me! Stay the fuck away!" The psychotic exorcist's voice climbed toward genuine panic. "Don't touch me with that! I'll tell you everything! I'll—"
I took it out without wasting a moment.
There was no blood, just the sensation of pulling through something that wasn't quite solid. Freed gasped, eyes rolling back momentarily.
When they refocused, confusion clouded the madness. He sagged in my grip, suddenly unsure of where he was or why. The extraction had disoriented him, stripped away context while leaving core personality intact.
I held the Memory DISC up to the dim light filtering through the sealed pit.
Greenish-white and swirling with fragmented images, the disc pulsed in my palm like a second heart. I'd only wanted the sword techniques, the combat training that had made Freed a genius exorcist at young age. Quick extraction, quick death, move on to the Fallen Angels, that was the plan until.
I made the mistake of actually looking at it.
The memories hit me like a freight train loaded with knives.
*FLASH*
A family home, night. Freed stands outside with a light gun, grinning as he pumps round after round through the windows. Inside, a man tries to shield his wife and children but fails as holy bullets punch through flesh. The man falls first. The wife's scream cuts off along with the kids
"Devil-lovers!" His younger voice cracks with enthusiasm "Every last one of you! Let me show you what real divine judgment looks like!"
I yanked my consciousness back from this memory to another one.
*FLASH*
Church grounds, somewhere in Eastern Europe. Bodies scattered across consecrated earth like discarded dolls. Men, women, children—entire families cut down without discrimination. Freed walks among them, light sword trailing blood, examining each corpse with the focused intensity of an artist reviewing his work.
"Not bad," he mutters, nudging a child's body with his boot. "Could've made the gut wound shallower on this one. Made it last longer. Live and learn, right?"
He laughs, and the sound echoes off church walls with obscene joy.
The DISC slipped from my trembling fingers.
It hit the stone floor with a crystalline tink, spinning in lazy circles before coming to rest. I stared at it, hand shaking so badly I had to clench my fist to stop the tremors. Every muscle in my body was locked tight as my fists clenched hard.
Dozens of memories had flooded through in those few seconds.
Hundreds of murders.
Dozens of victims who'd begged for mercy and received none.
Children. So many fucking children.
The next moment, my Haki-coated fist was buried in his chest.
*CRACK*
The sound of ribs shattering echoed like gunshots in the confined space. My fist punched through Freed's coat, through flesh and bone, stopping just short of his heart. I could feel it beating against my knuckles, rapid and frantic, suddenly aware of how close it was to being crushed.
Blood bubbled up from his mouth, dark and thick.
I pulled my fist back.
More blood sprayed from the wound, painting the stone walls. Freed collapsed, legs giving out as catastrophic damage to his chest cavity made standing impossible. He hit the floor hard, gasping like a fish drowning in air. His heart still beat, but barely. The organ was crushed, failing, pumping blood into a chest cavity that couldn't contain it anymore.
He was dying.
"I was going to make it quick," I said, crouching beside his convulsing form. "Just take your skills and end it"
I picked up the Memory DISC from where it had fallen.
"But you don't deserve such an easy escape" My voice sounded strange to my own ears, distant and cold "You get what you fucking deserve"
His body twitched on the stone floor, lungs still trying to draw breath despite the crushed heart. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and spreading. Without the DISC, without any resembling thought or awareness, Freed Sellzen was a lifeless puppet.
I shoved the Memory DISCs back into Freed's skull.
*GASP*
His eyes snapped open, consciousness returning with violent abruptness. But the damage was already done, his heart barely functioned, blood loss was catastrophic and now his brain was trying to process his DISCs providing him sanity.
The overwhelming painful sensation tore through his mind like a violent chainsaw.
Freed's eyes bulged, blood vessels bursting in the whites until they looked like roadmaps drawn in crimson. Inside his skull, DISCs fought for dominance, memories flooding back while the pain and sanity simultaneously tried to integrate.
The overload was immediate and catastrophic.
"AAAGGGHHHH—ghk—" His scream cut off as he choked on his own blood.
I watched without emotion as Freed Sellzen experienced every memory he'd ever created. Every victim, every scream, every moment of sadistic pleasure—all of it played on repeat at maximum volume while his brain was hemorrhaged from the overwhelming pain.
Blood poured from his nose, his ears, the corners of his eyes.
His body convulsed violently, arching backward at an angle that should've been impossible. Fingers clawed at the stone floor, nails breaking as he scrambled for relief that didn't exist. The gurgles turned to wet wheezes, consciousness flickering like a candle in a hurricane.
Thirty seconds.
That's how long it took for Freed's brain to finally give up, for the DISCs to crumble into nothing as their host died. His final expression was frozen in absolute terror, eyes wide and unseeing, mouth open in a silent scream. Blood covered his face, his face turned like a grotesque halo alien.
I stood there in the pit, looking down at the corpse of Freed Sellzen. The light from above filtered through the small opening I'd left, painting everything in pale illumination. My hands were covered in blood, his and mine from the bullet wound that had started this whole madness.
"That's one less monster in the world" I said to the silence.
The DISCs had completely dissolved, leaving no trace they'd ever existed. Freed's memories, his potential, his sword skills, all gone. Turned to dust along with their host. I'd have learned something useful from the extraction, along with memories of all these heinous acts, but it's not worth it at all.
And, I didn't regret it.
*DING*
The sound echoed in my head, accompanied by black text on blue screen that materialized in my vision.
```
[QUEST COMPLETED: Defeat the Stray Exorcist - Freed Sellzen]
Reward: Rank 3 Gacha Ticket
Status: Acquired
```
I stared at the notification for a long moment, then dismissed it with a thought. Later. I'd deal with the System's rewards later. Right now I needed to get out of this blood-soaked pit and figure out what to do with the body.
I shifted the stone beneath Freed's corpse, creating a deeper hole.
His body tumbled into the new cavity, disappearing into darkness. I sealed it immediately, compressing stone until the tomb was airtight and impenetrable. Let the apartment's foundation claim him. Let him rot in the dark, forgotten and unmourned.
Then I created handholds in the pit wall and climbed out.
The apartment looked like a warzone. Bullet holes in the walls, blood on the floor, chunks of plaster from where I'd slammed Freed into the ceiling. The groceries I'd been carrying were scattered across the hallway.
Sigh, My dinner plans were thoroughly ruined.
I looked down at my hands again, the blood painting them.
Freed's blood. My blood. All of it mixed together until I couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. The bullet wound in my arm had stopped bleeding, Haki and the Cloranthy Ring already working to accelerate healing. But it still hurts.
I walked to the bathroom.
My reflection in the mirror looked like something from a horror movie. Blood-spattered face, wild eyes, bandaged arm that definitely needed re-wrapping. I stripped off my ruined shirt, examining the bullet wound properly. Clean through the muscle, just as I'd thought.
I retrieved white bandages from the cabinet, wrapping the wound. Tight enough to stop any residual bleeding, loose enough to allow movement. The pain had already dulled to background noise, manageable and ignorable.
When I finished, I just stood there, staring at my reflection.
Freed's memories still lingered at the edges of my mind. The children's screams. Asia's terrified face. Dozens of victims who'd died begging for mercy from someone who denied providing it. The images wouldn't fade, despite the fact that I want them to.
Freed deserved worse than I'd given him. He deserved years of agony, decades of suffering equal to what he'd inflicted. But I didn't have time for creative torture, didn't have the mentality for becoming the monster I'd just killed.
Quick was a mercy he hadn't earned.
But it was all I could afford to give.
I activated the Rank 3 Gacha ticket.
Golden light materialized in the bathroom, coalescing into a sphere of condensed information that rushed into my head without warning. New knowledge flooded my synapses, new ability integrating with existing neural pathways.
. . .
[ Eyes of Future ]
You can perceive trajectory lines, movement paths, attack angles as ghostly afterimages overlaying normal vision when focused on a target.
Time limit : 0.5 seconds
Target : 1
[ With training, host can increase the time limit and no. of targets ]
. . .
The moment the ability settled, my vision changed when I stared at my arms.
Faint traces appeared at the edges of my perception, ghost images of potential movements, prediction lines that showed where I moved my hand experimentally, watching the afterimage lead the actual motion by half a second.
Hm, I could see attacks before they happened? Not bad.
I dismissed the ability's information screen and looked at my reflection again. The new sight showed me the ghost of my own movements again, prediction lines trailing my hands as I reached for a towel.
Useful. Definitely useful.
But it didn't change anything about what I needed to do next.
I walked back to the living room, stepping carefully around blood stains and debris. The Cloranthy Ring continued its work, recovering my stamina to the point where I could flex my wounded arm without wincing. In a few hours, maybe less, the injury would be a memory.
Just like Freed.
I stood in the center of my destroyed apartment, surrounded by evidence of violence and death.
The real problem still waited at the abandoned church. Three Fallen Angels and whatever other forces they'd gathered, all preparing for a ritual that would kill a girl whose only crime was having a useful Sacred Gear. From Freed's memories, I found out Asia would be sacrificed tomorrow.
No more waiting. No more playing the long game. No more hoping someone else solves the problem.
I'm done playing it safe.
I walked to my bedroom, grabbing a fresh shirt from the closet. As I pulled it on, careful of the bandaged arm, I caught sight of myself in the dresser mirror. The blood was gone from my face, washed away in the bathroom. But my eyes looked different.
I thought about Rias's genuine concern, about her protective instincts. She'd meant well, keeping me away from stray devil missions. Trying to shield me from the dangers of supernatural politics.
But shields could also be cages and I was bound to live free.
The Fallen Angels had made their move by sending Freed. Now it was my turn.
I closed my eyes, visualizing the circle's construction. Every line, every symbol and made calculations. The magic responded to my intent and the teleportation circle bloomed beneath my feet.
Red light pulsed from each completed section, growing brighter as I added layers of complexity. The destination was clear in my mind, abandoned church.
*FLASH*
The teleportation circle spat me outside the abandoned church under pale moonlight. Gothic architecture loomed before me, all crumbling stone and broken stained glass. The structure looked like it had been beautiful once, before time and neglect had turned it into something from a horror movie.
Dark windows stared at me like empty eye sockets.
*DING*
New text materialized in my vision, raising my brows with each read.
```
[ NEW QUEST: The Fallen's Gambit ]
Objective: Put an end to the Fallen Angels' plan to sacrifice you and Asia Argento
Reward: Rank 7 Gacha Ticket
```
I read the notification and smiled in anticipation of what came next.
Cracking my knuckles, I felt Armament Haki respond to my will ready for action. Both fists turned black, hardened to a degree that could shatter light swords and crush bones on a single command.
"Even the System agrees this ends tonight"
I stepped towards the church to put an end to this farce.
. . .
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