"SHRIEEK!!!"
The four eyes released a piercing shriek. The flowing liquid surged toward Vincent in a frenzied torrent — most of it aimed squarely at him, a fraction lashing out toward Melissa and Old Neil.
He flashed sideways instantly, darted to both of them, grabbed hold of Old Neil and Melissa in one hand each, spun around, and shoved them toward Dunn and Klein: "Get them upstairs — get everyone out!"
In the same instant, the black-bristled crimson liquid converged into a wall of force and crashed directly into where Vincent had been standing. His image shattered like a broken mirror — he himself had already flashed to the top of the staircase.
The grey-and-white revolver cracked open three shots, each one carrying a special effect. The four eyes froze for half a second. Vincent moved fast, closing the distance, pulling out a fistful of scrolls and hurling all of them at once toward the four eyes — then vaulted using the nearest shadow and retreated to a distance again.
Boom!
Every scroll detonated in the same moment, the combined effects burying the four eyes in an instant. A piercing screech bounced around the entire basement.
"That's how you use scrolls?"
"Not the time."
"I'm just curious — when you fight in your own world, is it always this style? Straight out of the gate with saturation fire?"
When you're up against someone as strong as Dunn, isn't that the correct approach? This strategy isn't about winning — it's about surviving long enough to run.
Besides, I still have half my scrolls left.
He had barely finished the thought when his spirituality jumped sharply. He flashed without hesitation — but an overwhelming threat clung to him like a second skin, relentless.
"AHHHH!!!"
Accompanied by a splitting shriek, an enormous maw appeared behind him — shaped like an eye and a mouth at once, lined all the way through with short black bristles, running with that dark crimson fluid. It lunged at him wide open.
Slash —
Vincent used his final flash, jumping directly from the basement into the sitting room on the ground floor. But the moment his figure materialised, the maw was already gaping open in front of him:
"AHHHH!!!"
BOOM.
The entire space around him shattered like glass. Every surface of reality fractured and collapsed.
The breath of a god.
In that same instant, Vincent felt something change inside his body. Beneath his skin, it was as though countless insects were wriggling, pressing against the inside of his flesh, trying to claw their way out.
I know what this is.
This is losing control.
"AHHHH!!!"
The maw shrieked once more.
"Oh, shut up — here, have something to eat."
Vincent reached into his coat, pulled out the remaining scrolls and a small tin box, and flung them all forcefully down the throat of that maw. Then he shadow-leaped sideways and ran.
"???"
From deep within the maw came a bewildered, disoriented murmur.
BOOM.
Dozens of scrolls detonated simultaneously. The maw let out a low, grinding roar and was about to give chase — when something else arrived.
A dense, suffocating darkness descended, thick with the sound of absolute, raving madness. The maw, with all its short black bristles, let out a sharp, agonised shriek as it split apart — inch by inch, from end to end.
Then it fractured back into four pairs of tormented eyes. Four sharp cracks in quick succession. They dissolved into dust and vanished into the air.
"...Is it over?"
Vincent stopped short, staring at where the eyes had been.
"What was in that tin box you threw?"
"The Beyonder characteristic from the Rose Bishop. I'd suspected it was contaminated by the True Creator's corruption — which is why I brought it along."
A note of regret crept into his voice. "A Sequence 6 Beyonder characteristic. Gone just like that."
"...Using an evil god's own power against another evil god. Not a bad approach."
Then Bernadette added: "You didn't need to do it, though. Once it released the divine presence, its energy was essentially depleted — it would have dissipated on its own shortly. You didn't need to intervene."
"I had no way of knowing that."
Vincent scratched his head and muttered: "Frankly, anything that's above my ability level... I'd rather leave that to you in future."
Bernadette didn't comment on that. Instead she shifted direction: "While you were using your abilities just now, I was studying how the spirituality moves and is drawn on from within. I found something."
"What?"
"I noticed that the moment we come under threat, it's precisely then that our Spirit Body, Astral Projection, Body of Heart and Mind, and Ether Body are at their most completely unified — the ideal conditions for synchronisation. The only problem is that in those moments, the 'instinct' generated by our spirituality puts self-preservation first."
"Was there a self-preservation impulse just then?"
"When that maw released its divine presence, this body very nearly tried to phase directly into the Spirit World to escape."
"There wasn't, though."
"...I suppressed it."
"???"
"That's not — aren't you afraid that if you misjudge the situation, we can't fight and we can't flee, and we just die here?"
She said calmly: "I'd say you shouldn't doubt the judgment of someone who has been dealing with the Hidden Sage for a hundred years."
"...Fair enough."
He let out a slow breath. "And then?"
"If you can encounter danger again, I'll suppress the spirituality's self-preservation instinct the moment it triggers. That should allow us to attempt synchronisation — letting you draw on the spirituality and use our Beyonder abilities normally."
"..."
Vincent stared, aghast. "Are you telling me... I need to go find someone who can kill me, and deliberately walk into harm's way?"
"It's called an experiment."
"And if the experiment fails when we're in danger?"
"Then I release the suppression."
He put a hand to his forehead. "By that point, we may already be dead."
"Which is why I came up with an alternative method. The self-preservation instinct is essentially a fear response — it's rooted in the terror of encountering danger. So if we can bypass the 'danger' and directly induce the fear..."
She paused. "Could we not create the same conditions and achieve the same synchronisation?"
"Can you be more specific?"
"Beyonder abilities can do it — hypnosis from the Visionary Pathway, or emotion manipulation from the Criminal Pathway, could both produce fear and terror directly."
"..."
A long silence.
"I feel like you're describing a very novel form of self-harm."
"It's called—"
"An experiment," Vincent answered for her.
Bernadette laughed. "Good. A little telepathy — that's actually the first step toward synchronising the four components."
"I just worry that if we botch this—"
He stopped.
Without warning, tears began sliding down his face. Two hot tracks, one on each cheek. And then from somewhere deep inside him, a powerful surge of grief rose up — grief with no identifiable source, born from nothing, for nothing he could name. He had no idea why he was grieving, and yet he had absolutely no control over it.
"Sob..."
At the same moment, he heard Bernadette weeping quietly, though she was clearly trying to hold it in.
The two of them went silent. Vincent kept shedding tears, heart-stricken and helpless. Bernadette let out an occasional suppressed sob.
After a little over a minute, the grief vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.
Vincent quickly wiped his face. "...The revolver's negative side effects seem to be considerably stronger than you thought. You couldn't hold it off either."
"Right now I'm experiencing what you experience. In reality, when I use it, I do fall into the emotions too — but not this severely."
"Ah," Vincent said, and then: "In that case..."
He extended a finger.
"Will the side effects of this ring affect you too?"
"What ring?"
"You've forgotten — its negative side effect is that it enhances your appeal to others..."
"..."
At his reminder, Bernadette felt something stir deep within her. Unbidden, a faint, involuntary warmth toward Vincent came rising to the surface.
She cut it off immediately. Her tone did not change.
"Unfortunately, I feel nothing whatsoever."
To be continued…
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