Hearing that, the two Millelith soldiers exchange glances. They tilt their heads in unison.
They're quite shocked. Very shocked, actually.
In Liyue, people usually run away from monsters, not seek them out. Especially monsters recently reported to possess unnatural intelligence and military tactics. Normally, only mad adventurers from the Guild or clueless outsiders would ask such a thing. And this young man… he doesn't look like either.
He's dressed like an ordinary citizen. No armor, no glowing Vision at his waist. Just slightly worn clothes and shoes that… look odd? And clearly overdue for replacement.
"A researcher?" asks the younger Millelith, Chen, in a skeptical tone. He scans the young man from head to toe.
The young man nods firmly, his smile unwavering. "That's right. I'm interested in the behavioral evolution of Hilichurls in coastal environments."
The older Millelith, Sergeant Wu, lets out a long sigh. He's too tired to argue. To him, if some fool wants to go there and possibly thin out the monster population, let them handle it.
At that moment, Sergeant Wu jerks his rough chin toward the north. "Follow the coastline until you smell something foul. But be careful, kid. They're not the usual Hilichurls that just dance around."
The young man looks satisfied. His eyes sparkle, as if he's just been handed a treasure map.
"Thank you, sirs! Stay safe!"
He bows respectfully, then turns and walks away with bewildering enthusiasm. His steps are quick, as if he has a date with death.
The two nod lazily, returning the greeting with sluggish gestures. Then they lean back on the bench, watching the young man's figure grow smaller.
Silence falls between them, filled only by the city's bustle.
One of them, Chen, puts on a thoughtful expression. His thick brows furrow. He chews his lower lip, trying to recall something.
He stares blankly at the street, but his mind rewinds the memory reel in his head.
Then Sergeant Wu, who is opening his waterskin again, looks at him and says, "What's wrong, Chen? You look like you just swallowed a fly."
Chen turns to his companion, face still clouded with concentration. "Sergeant… I feel like I've seen his face before. That young man's face."
Sergeant Wu snorts, then takes a drink. "Isn't that normal? Even though Liyue is vast, the people are still the same ones coming and going. Especially Sumeru researchers—they all look alike with their notebooks."
"I even ran into a researcher near Wangshu Inn yesterday," Wu continues, wiping his mouth.
Chen wants to ask why he was at Wangshu Inn but swallows the urge, listening as Sergeant Wu goes on.
"He was struggling to climb a tree to collect leaf samples. Well, even though he was in trouble, at least he had a bodyguard."
Chen shakes his head firmly. "That's not what I mean, Sergeant."
He looks at Wu with a serious gaze that makes Wu stop chewing his dried meat.
"I can't remember exactly where or in what situation… but I know his face. It's familiar. And besides…" Chen lowers his voice, as if afraid of being overheard by spies. "He lied about being a researcher."
"Huh?" Wu nearly chokes. He thumps his chest, then stares at Chen wide-eyed. "Lied? You mean he's a con man?"
Chen nods slowly. He closes his eyes briefly, trying to summon the memory.
"He's not a biologist," Chen says confidently. "He's a merchant. A trinket seller. I've seen him helping an old man near the bridge."
"A merchant???"
Sergeant Wu stares silently at his companion's face. His mouth hangs slightly open.
A merchant. An ordinary civilian. No combat training. No weapon. No Vision.
"Then why is he heading there alone?" Wu asks, voice rising an octave in disbelief. "Why would a trinket merchant go looking for an organized monster nest? That's suicide!"
"That's exactly what makes me wonder," Chen replies, face growing paler. "Does he have debt problems? Is he heartbroken? Or…"
Chen looks at Wu in horror.
"Don't tell me… he wants to end his life?"
The atmosphere around the bench suddenly turns cold. The warm afternoon sun feels unable to pierce the sudden worry rising in the two soldiers' hearts.
They are Millelith. Their duty is to protect the people. Protect merchants, farmers, and researchers. Protect fools from their own foolishness.
"No way!" Sergeant Wu says loudly, almost shouting to cover his guilt. He just sent a civilian into the lion's den.
Chen nods quickly, hand already reaching for his leaning spear.
"We have to go get him, Sergeant. Before he reaches the forest."
Sergeant Wu stands too. The fatigue in his legs vanishes instantly. "You're right, Chen. To hell with rest." He looks north, toward where the young man disappeared.
"No life is worthless in Liyue."
…
You head to the place one of the Millelith pointed out—north. You walk along the winding coastline, shoes leaving prints in wet sand soon erased by waves. Sea wind slaps your face, carrying sharp salt and a faint fishy smell.
But even after walking quite far, until the sun begins tilting west, you see no dense mangrove forest as described. Instead, only barren coast and sharp coral rocks appear.
You narrow your eyes, shielding from the sun's glare with your hand.
"Did I go the wrong way?" you mutter. You pause, kicking a pebble into the sea. "Or were they trying to trick me? Sending me nowhere so I wouldn't bother them?"
You sigh roughly, annoyed. But you have no intention of turning back.
After coming this far, sweating, hoping—returning empty-handed feels like humiliating defeat. Your effort would be wasted. And you hate waste.
At least your pride won't accept it.
As you walk a bit farther, passing a rocky cape, your ears suddenly catch something. Instantly, your eyes widen.
It's singing. Hoarse singing, with a strangely captivating rhythm.
"Mita… dada… ya… ya…"
You slowly peek from behind a large moss-covered rock. And your eyes widen again.
You've finally found it!
In a sandy hollow surrounded by low cliffs, there's a group of Hilichurls. Not many—just five or six. They appear to be dancing around an unlit pile of wood.
You swallow, heart pounding.
You step out from hiding. Boldly revealing yourself atop the sand dune.
When they spot you, their dance stops instantly.
They turn in unison. Their creepy wooden masks stare at you. And in an instant, the atmosphere shifts. No more joy. They growl, picking up wooden clubs and stones from the ground.
They show clear hostility!
"As expected, they're monsters in this world… they hate humans," you nod to yourself, as if confirming a scientific theory. You've just learned common knowledge of this world firsthand.
You take a deep breath, then whisper to the empty air behind you.
"Sword, appear!"
At that moment, the air around you trembles. The massive black sword, The Blade of Insatiable Ego, manifests from nothing. It appears floating beside you, its black blade absorbing sunlight, the red eye on its hilt opening wide and glowing hungrily. Its transparent form slowly solidifies into a tangible nightmare.
The Hilichurls step back. They show signs of fear. They sense the evil aura radiating from the sword.
Predator aura!
But then their territorial instinct takes over. One shouts, and they charge you together. Brandishing primitive weapons.
You're not afraid. You're actually thrilled by the situation. "Come on!" you challenge.
One Hilichurl leaps high, swinging its club at your head.
Seeing this, you don't dodge. Instead you simply—no, shout—a command. "Protect me!"
Instantly, the sword moves. Fast. Too fast for ordinary human eyes. Clang! The sword shoots forward, blocking the Hilichurl's club with its flat side. The impact is hard. The wooden club stops dead, vibration traveling up the monster's arms.
Then, with a jerking motion, the sword pushes forward. The Hilichurl is flung backward, tumbling into the sand.
The same happens to another Hilichurl attacking from the side. The sword spins in the air, easily blocking a stone attack, then knocks the attacker back with its hilt.
As the Hilichurl flies far, you nod in satisfaction. A wide smile spreads across your face.
"It can be used for defense," you mutter proudly. "I'm untouchable."
You feel that's enough. The test succeeded.
You don't need to kill them—there's no benefit, only bad luck. You're here just to see if the sword is effective. You're about to turn and leave, abandoning the confused monsters.
But as you turn, your eyes suddenly catch another Hilichurl emerging from bushes behind you. A larger one with a wooden shield. It was already there, sneaking while you were busy with the others!
You're shocked. Your eyes widen seeing the club already swinging at your face.
"Protect m–"
Before you finish the command, before your sword can turn… WHAM! The Hilichurl's club smashes your face hard. Crashing into your cheekbone.
The world spins. Pain explodes in your head. You stagger back several steps. Your left foot trips on a rock, and you nearly fall. Your head reels, ears ringing loudly.
Fresh blood flows from your nose, dripping onto your clothes.
Instantly, the previously flung Hilichurls scramble up. They see a chance for counterattack!
They charge, about to brutally follow up.
"This is bad!" Panic floods you. Pain clouds clear thinking. Your sword hovers confused in the air, awaiting a command that doesn't come from your bleeding mouth.
At that moment, you instinctively prepare to flee. You turn, ready to run as fast as possible.
But before you can, a sharp whistling sound reaches your ears. Slice! Warm, sticky fluid suddenly splashes your face, spraying into your eyes and mouth.
You stop running. You freeze. Your hand touches your face. Red. Blood. Your eyes tremble, slowly focusing forward. "Huh?"
You see your sword, which had been protecting you, hovering in the air, blade coated in black blood. Below it lies the body of the Hilichurl that struck you. From shoulder to waist, cleaved in two. The cut clean, neat, and horrific.
At that moment, you suddenly shake violently. Your knees buckle. Instantly, unimaginable pain assaults you. Not on your face. But on your shoulder. Your chest. Your stomach. It feels as if a giant blade just split your own body!
You scream. But the scream catches in your throat, paralyzed by pain overwhelming your nervous system. This is the side effect of using the sword to kill.
Shared Agony!
The drawback makes you feel 100% of the physical pain and death terror experienced by the Hilichurl killed by the sword!
And the sword killed the Hilichurl by bisecting it!
You instantly feel the same pain. You feel your ribs snapping, lungs tearing, heart stopping from shock. You feel death's cold creeping up.
You fall silent, enduring the pain, doubled over clutching your intact yet shattered-feeling body. Of course there's no physical wound—it's phantom pain sent directly to your brain via the soul link. But the agony nearly drives you mad!
Your brain screams that you're dead. But your body still stands. This cognitive dissonance makes you want to vomit!
Meanwhile, the other Hilichurls, seeing their comrade die so brutally, grow enraged. They roar with vengeance, no longer caring for their lives. They charge you aggressively, swarming.
But in an instant, the sword shoots forward without waiting for orders. It becomes a deadly black flash. Slice! Crash! Stab! Your sword kills them one by one until none remain. It severs heads, pierces hearts, amputates legs.
As if… the sword is feasting.
And throughout, you experience hell. You feel your neck slashed. Your heart stabbed. Your legs severed.
The pain comes in waves, overlapping, never ceasing. Wave after wave of agony crashes over you, nearly driving you insane. You collapse to your knees in the sand, clutching your chest, clawing the ground.
At the same time, you hear the dying Hilichurls' cries. Their voices… sound like weeping. Not monster roars, but the cries of living beings terrified and in pain.
And you feel their fear too. The terror of seeing death approach.
At that moment, you suddenly look up at the darkening sky. Tears slowly fall, mixing with blood on your face. Tears of pain, and tears of regret.
You remain silent for a long time there, surrounded by monster corpses. The sword floats back to your side, its blade clean again, glowing with nauseating satisfaction.
Suddenly, wind blows—cold and judgmental.
You slowly stand in excruciating pain. Your body trembles violently and nearly collapses again, nerves still firing. But you force yourself upright, driven by remaining survival instinct.
At that moment, amid the post-massacre silence, your ears catch footsteps. Tap. Tap. Tap. Heavy adult steps. And tap-tap-tap-tap light small ones.
You slowly turn your stiff neck. Your face a mess—pale, bloody, eyes vacant. You force a smile, the smile of a madman who's just seen hell.
Then your eyes widen.
Ahead, emerging from the trees, stands a man. A muscular man with a fading dragon tattoo. A man who should be in Liyue Harbor, now standing before you.
It's the muscular man!
He seems to have just returned from the forest, shirtless, cradling wild fruit in his arms.
At that moment, the fruit suddenly falls from his grasp. Thud. Thud. Rolling in the sand. He surveys every dead Hilichurl around you. Their dismembered bodies scattered. Black blood soaking white sand. Then he slowly looks at you. His eyes tremble.
And beside the muscular man stands one creature. The small Hilichurl walking at his side. It stares at its dead friends. It lets out a heart-wrenching squeak.
Instantly, it drops the fruit it held. It picks up a small wooden club from the ground. And as if shouting in rage, it charges you in fury. Its small steps fast, driven by foolish courage and love for its tribe.
"Yaaaaa!" it cries.
You see it running. You want to shout, "NO!" But your sword reacts to its cry faster. It no longer needs orders. It sees a threat. It sees food. In the blink of an eye, the sword shoots forward. Slice. The sound is very soft.
The small Hilichurl suddenly stops mid-run, only meters from you. In an instant, its head is severed from its body. Its wooden mask splits in two. Its body stands briefly, momentum still carrying it toward you. Blood sprays into the air.
But after a few more steps, the small body falls. Thud. Its head rolls, stopping right at your shoe tip. The eyes behind the mask stare blankly at the sky.
You feel your own neck severed. Instant sharp pain, followed by momentary darkness. You collapse to your knees again, vomiting. Wind slaps your face, carrying the strong iron smell.
...
A/N: Here it is for chapter 24… I actually didn't intend to add action, but I was stuck on developing the feelings between these two if the story only focused on romance and slice of life. So… I had to. And anyway, I'm sticking to the principle that the protagonist won't fight—the 'pet' fights instead umu.