In the dimly lit inn room, Philippe pulled a wooden chair, its legs scraping across the floor with a creak.
He sat down, then turned his face toward the window.
Outside, the sun was setting, painting the city sky with strokes of orange and indigo.
The shadows of buildings stretched long and sharp, while the street bustle below gradually faded into a faint hum.
Philippe gazed at the scene, but his mind was elsewhere, trapped in the silence Emilie had left behind.
Regret is a slow-acting poison.
He replayed their conversation, every word, every pause, every glance. The image of Emilie's painful smile, her trembling back as she held back tears, and the soft 'click' of the closing door echoed eternally in his head.
His first impulse, a wild and desperate instinct, was to jump up, chase after her, and beg her to listen. But an invisible pair of feet seemed to hold him back.
He knew approaching Emilie now would only tear the wound wider.
She said she needs time… so I shouldn't try to apologize right now.
Forcing an apology would only show how selfish he was.
Philippe shook his head vigorously, forcing Emilie's image away.
The pain was too dense, too raw.
At that moment, he compelled himself to return to the moments before the teleportation. To the narrow alley, facing the stalker.
Who was that hooded person, what was their purpose, why was he targeted, and who sent them to follow him?
He tried to think of other problems unrelated to Emilie!
Why did the stalker explode?
Philippe closed his eyes, trying to recall every detail.
The creature writhed… then he pulled back the hood.
Instantly, the creature's body began convulsing.
A horrifying idea began forming in his mind.
His eyes flew open wide, his lips trembling. "Could it be…" he whispered into the room's silence. "Because I… removed the hood?"
Was the hood some kind of seal? A trigger for a self-destruct mechanism?
There was no proof, but the assumption felt right.
He began tapping his finger on the wooden table beside him.
Tap… tap… tap… The sound was the only noise in the room.
Besides… that stalker… was clearly not human. They were more like a monster in human form. After all, they had no eyes, nose, or ears. Just a mouth…
Philippe had spent many nights reading books about monsters and supernatural creatures in this world.
I've read so much about the monsters here—Rifthounds, Slimes, Hilichurls, even Abyss Heralds… but I haven't found any description matching a human-like monster like that. At best, only something like Hilichurls…
Tap… tap… tap… tap… tap…
His fingers stopped.
Silence gripped him again.
His eyes widened as another, more terrifying possibility hacked into his mind.
Why didn't I consider other possibilities?
After all, why have I been the target from the start?
What's special about me?
First, I'm not a native. I'm from another world… a planet called Earth.
Second, I have a… system that helps me. Like a player in an RPG game. I just need to follow the objectives given by this system… Right, this world feels like a game to me.
Third, I have skills.
So then…
What if… that creature wasn't from this world?
Another world… Earth… notification screen… system… skills…
Skills…
Philippe's breath caught.
A skill!
Could someone be using an ability to summon creatures from another world? Was the stalker from another world? An entity whose sole task was to follow him, psychologically terrorize him, then self-destruct when its identity was revealed?
This made far more sense than a local monster coincidentally targeting him without reason!
At least assuming is better than nothing!
I just need to find evidence to confirm my assumption.
At that moment, his eyes widened again. Terror suddenly flooded his mind.
The air in the room seemed to thin. The room became utterly silent.
If that was a System ability, then there must be a user. But as far as he knew, no one in this world could see or even know how to use the System. Only him.
That means…
The hairs on his neck stood up.
There's someone else. Someone from my world. Someone who can also use the System.
The thought made him rise from the chair with stiff movements.
He began pacing the room, his long, restless shadow dancing on the walls.
They're somewhere in this world. They might have seen my System notifications for who knows how long.
They know I'm like them. A player, also from Earth.
But for some reason… they want me dead.
Philippe stopped. He stared at his blurred reflection in the dark window glass.
"But why? What's the benefit of killing me? We're both stranded in this world."
The question hung in the cold air, unanswered.
That was when a familiar blue light appeared before him.
A screen displaying a quest.
Quest!
Philippe's eyes read the words, his pupils shaking violently.
At that moment, laughter bubbled from his throat. It started soft, a hoarse chuckle. Then grew louder, freer, turning into wild laughter echoing through the room.
He knew the reason now.
He knew why 'the other person' wanted to kill him.
***
A/N: I wonder if this story is so boring that no one has commented on it. I don't even know when this story started to become boring and deviate from what you guys thought. If you guys don't comment on it, I probably wouldn't know.
I myself hope this story will end soon... but it's already over 100 chapters, and if I stop now, it feels like a waste. So my goal now is to finish it and move on to something else. But... still, I need support from the readers. As a writer, creating a story that only I enjoy is boring... don't you agree?
If you want to read the 7 advanced chapters with a faster update frequency than the webnovel, you can read it on my patreon whose link is below:
https://www.pâtreon.com/Junxt
Replace "â" with "a" and search for it in your browser.
By the way, don't forget to throw a power stone and leave a review to motivate me :)