Elian's blood trailed right behind him. His clothes had been completely shredded, the only piece of clothes on him were his third traded wrecked pants.
His shredded pants barely hung on his hips. Bare chest rising and falling. Every step rattled pain through his bones.
Later, glancing all around, he saw his stick on the cracked street, opposite his direction. The stick lay a few feet away, half-buried in dust and dried gore.
It had chipped on the tip, splinters on its edges. But he bent to pick up his stick anyways, dust coating his palms as his fingers curled around the splintered wood.
His knuckles flexed, gripping the dented pitiful weapon.
However, the pressure in his chest grew claws.
Hart pushed him.
Hart pushed him.
Is it even worth protecting the black pieces if he's always going to end up discarded all the time?
If it weren't for his system, he's sure as hell he'd be dead gone. Dying a pitiful pathetic death—getting mauled by a damn flower.
[Why thank you, you finally appreciate my effort. About damn time.]
[And stop sulking. It's stupid.]
[Also your clothes are completely torn, you're shirtless… and shoeless. And weapon-less. Go get some.]
Elian took a deep breath, sucking the tainted air into his lungs.
He spotted a burnt clothing shop, the red paint used had peeled off, replaced with the ashes of burnt wood.
He smashed through the cracked glass of the abandoned shop. Fabric lay in heaps, shredded by claws and teeth. He pulled a black button-up over his shoulders, the wool fabric covering his skin, and a pair of black suit trousers. Picking up a random pair of black shoes to wear.
He left the blood spatter on his skin, making no effort to clean it off.
Elian walked out of the building, but a flashy white glint of light caught his eye. He stepped back, looking over, only to see his own reflection looking back at him.
Oh, a mirror.
The mirror was partly broken, and painted gold on the rim. It was surely an asset to the clothing store he went to.
He stared longer at his own reflection, brushing off his black overgrown hair, his bangs almost covering his eyes.
As if being burned, he sharply looked away, gritting his teeth and walking past the mirror like nothing happened.
His system pinged again, a blue floating screen appeared.
[You were thinking of the doppelgänger, weren't you?]
Elian's hands clenched, he bit his lips till he could taste blood. Averting his gaze away from the screen, an attempt to ignore the pain biting through his heart.
However the system blocked his vision, popping up like a damn virus ad.
[You wish you could save your family? Didn't you?]
[Your anger is justified towards the white pieces.]
[After all, your dopplegänger, like the other doppelgängers are white pieces.]
[They killed your family. He killed you.]
[You should get revenge. You mustn't fail like last tim—]
Elian screamed, his voice cracked, bouncing back into his ears. He tried punching mindlessly at the system's message but his fist went through the screen.
His breathing became loud and shaky, eyes almost bulging out of its sockets. But then they softened, now glassy and shaky.
His legs gave up, hitting the ground with a soft thud.
His voice was softer now, almost pleading. "Stop. Please. Stop."
[But you should.]
"Don't remind me, suckerbot. Just stop."
[... System Error.]
[Of course.]
A minute passed, Elian's breathing returned to normal, stabilizing. He took in several deep breaths, before standing up and wiping his eyes with the hem of the shirt he wore.
The system flashed again, breaking into pixels before integrating back into a whole screen.
[New Title Unlocked: King Fool of the Pawns.]
[New Skill: Pawnstar Lv1 – Detect any pawns in 15-meter radius.]
[Wow. Nice skill. Named it myself.]
What? Pawnstar? Jeez, suckerbot stop. What the fuck is that? Elian scrunched his face in confusion, squinting his eyes.
[A new unlocked skill for reaching lvl 5.]
Elian blinked. He's in level 5?
That means he died five times already. And a dumb rat caused his three deaths.
By the way, where's that brat?
[Do you wish to use the skill: Pawnstar? Hahahahaha. I'm sorry. Not. Pawnstar.]
Elian flushed bright red, his hands raked his hair to the back, heat rising up to his neck. Why would his system name a skill like that?
Yes. Use that... skill.
[What skill?]
"…"
[Okay. Activating the skill; Pawnstar lv 1]
[One Black piece pawn detected.]
[30 feet away from you. Straight ahead.]
Elian quickened his pace, walking straight by following the system's direction. The crusty wind bit through his face, flaunting his hair.
Across the street, Elian saw more broken burnt down buildings, some still burning in flames and he couldn't help but wonder what really happened.
Was this just the after effect of him claiming a beast-infected territory? Or him starting the whole chessboard game by clicking 'yes'.
Why hasn't he seen anyone yet? Where is everyone?
Maybe a bunch of other guilds saved the citizens?
[Pawn detected. Hart Flounder.]
He turned swiftly, eyes scanning what used to be a jewelry store.
And that's when he saw Hart.
The rat-faced man was just ahead, back turned and stocking gem artifacts into his pockets without any care in the world.
"You." Elian called out.
Hart immediately froze, his shoulders stiffened as his breath caught. He turned slowly, facing Elian. His pupils instantly shrunk, body shaking from the terror.
Hart screamed as his legs buckled up, landing on the floor, he crawled back, murmuring a few jargons.
"Y-yo… you're a-alive?!"
Elian's mouth curled up, but the smile never reached his eyes. "Disappointed?"
Hart's throat worked. He crawled further back, trying his best to stand up but failing every time.
He spat, rage shaking his ruined voice. "Y-you piece of shit… you're a g-glitch!"
Elian's smile flickered. He stepped in, grabbed Hart by the throat and slammed him against the glass. His stick pressed under Hart's chin, wood grinding until cartilage cracked. His voice burst into a wheeze, no sound but air escaping like a punctured balloon.
Hart clawed weakly at the stick, but Elian only leaned harder, watching the man's panic drown out his hate. "You talk too damn much."
A wet snap echoed, it was the sound of Hart's voice box collapsing. His mouth opened wide in a scream, but nothing came out.
Elian let go of him, and Hart dropped to the floor.
He was a crying mess. Snort and fluid running down the holes in his face as his hands flew to his throat.
Hart tried cursing at him, and desperately shouting for help, but all that came out was a dry silent sound.
Elian stepped above him, "yeah. That's right. You can't talk anymore. It's satisfying, isn't it?"
He moved in closer.
"I'll kill you," he muttered, voice low.
"I'll kill you exactly the way you did to me. You must suffer like me. You must die like me."
Hart muffled notices filled the small space. He tried crawling away from Elian. Hands twitching, and bruised. His face widened in horror.
Suddenly, another bloom ruptured through the floorboards, white petals like slick knives, teeth lining the inside. It lunged for the struggling body on the floor. The flower clamped down, swallowing Hart's head whole with a crunch of bone.
Elian blankly stared at them. He then drove his stick into the blossom.
[Sucker Punch Lv1 – Activated.]
The impact burst the flower in a shower of red an white pulp. Hart's head ripped free, spinal cords snapping. His body flailed once, collapsing faceless to the floor, blood pooling thick and syrupy.
Elian crouched, tilting the twitching corpse by its collar. "A-rank Pawn, huh? This bastard killed me three times. This counts as Karma, right?"
[If you are karma, yes. But since you're not, no. Karma happens naturally. You played a part in this.]
[But I am proud of you.]
More pop up screens appeared, floating around his vision.
[EXP gained +900.]
[Headshot Bonus – Extra messy.]
[Achievement Unlocked: Rat Face No More.]
[You have successfully killed a Pawn.]
The store went silent, except for the dripping blood pooling near Elian's boots.
His eyes cold, staring at the dead body he'd massacred. But something felt weird.
Why is…
Why is he not…
Amidst his thoughts, he heard a little rustling sound echoing outside the store.
He tilted his head, eyes squinting to see whoever was tiptoeing around the corner.
Instead, Jupiter came out from a corner of the store, her bishop's staff clutched in one hand, clothes streaked with ash. "Thank goodness I found you. The children are safe," she began, but her eyes flickered, stopping mid sentence.
Jupiter's eyes narrowed, scanning the headless corpse at Elian's feet, then the way he was crouched low, unbothered, shoulders square, and breathing steady.
"You…" Her voice was calm, but her gaze cut through him. "You've done this before, haven't you? Usually, someone trembles after their first kill."
She took a step closer. "Not you. Why?"