Chapter 3: Suicide (Merciless)
“Shadow Sequence.”
Hiltina bit her lip tightly.
A silvery glow gathered at her waist, and in an instant, the glowing points coalesced into a slender silver sword with a crystal-like transparency.
As the sword came into her hand, the hilt provided Hiltina with a reassuring touch, but her mood remained quite heavy.
She had thought her exploration of the Night World was completely confidential, only to find out she was being followed in the shadows.
Moreover, her opponent had used intelligence disparity to launch a surprise attack, turning Rast into a puppet who would obey their commands and could give up his life at any moment.
Even though reason told Hiltina that Rast was merely a projection in the Night World, their earlier conversation had made her quite concerned about the cyclical matter the boy had mentioned.
“What’s wrong, Miss Hiltina? Unable to part with this projection you found in the Night World?”
“Don’t worry, as long as you actively lift your Emblem Armor, I’ll let him go… I could even rewrite his memories and brainwash him into being your obedient slave if that’s what you want.”
The Masked Woman’s charming laughter echoed from afar, which only deepened Hiltina’s feeling of heaviness.
There was no doubt that her opponent drew power from the “Shadow” sequence, and judging by her performance, she had likely reached the Third Tier.
In the Shadow Sequence, the most basic “Whisperer” could only guide and suggest with words, while someone like the earlier conversation showed that only the Third Tier “Dancer” could simplify and brutally achieve mental control in a hostile state with just a single line.
Hiltina took a deep breath, and the distractions and ripples in her heart calmed instantly.
Her opponent had clearly come prepared, and the Dancer’s ability to seduce could easily entrap even Hiltina herself if her mind were to slip.
“Tsk, boring little girl.”
When the Masked Woman found that Hiltina was ignoring her, she shook her head in disinterest.
She continued to watch Hiltina, never glancing at Rast, and merely snapped her fingers.
“Just commit suicide.”
The Masked Woman certainly did not believe she could genuinely threaten Hiltina into surrendering with just a projection from the Night World, even if this native of the Night World was indeed quite attractive.
However, as long as Hiltina showed even the slightest mental wavering due to this native’s suicide, her goal would be achieved.
On the other side.
With the order given, Rast’s fingers also squeezed the trigger of his gun.
Yet, perhaps due to an illusion.
At the moment the trigger was squeezed.
Hiltina caught a glimpse of Rast, now fully hypnotized by the Dancer’s abilities, resembling a puppet—
Beneath that drooping face, a clear hint of madness was outlined.
…
In the next moment.
Click.
The trigger was pulled.
The hammer was released, the chamber rotated, and a white light suddenly burst from the gun’s muzzle.
However, what followed was not the horrific scene of white and red splattering as Hiltina had imagined.
The silver left revolver did not fire a bullet.
But with the pull of the trigger, Rast’s temple seemed to have genuinely been pierced by something.
In his eyes, an ice-blue radiance suddenly brightened.
Bang—
Behind Rast, a vague shadow materialized, obscuring the sky outside the window.
It was a tower standing on a lonely island, surrounded by rain pouring in torrents and giant waves crashing in the vast ocean.
And in the background stood a vague figure in a black raincoat.
He stood beside the cliff of the lonely island, with the blurred tower behind him amidst the wind and rain, holding a lamp-like oil lantern in his right hand.
The figure’s face was obscured beneath the hood of the raincoat, making it difficult to see, but the lantern he held shone ever brighter.
No matter how the surrounding winds and rains swayed, the flickering flame in the lamp remained bright and unwavering.
The distant voice of the Masked Woman reached their ears.
No longer the charming laughter from before, but a painful and horrific scream.
The light of the lantern not only mirrored the sky above but also shone directly into the depths of the Masked Woman’s psyche.
Crack.
A sound of shattering resounded.
A crack suddenly appeared on the black iron mask.
Correspondingly, the mesmerizing pink in the woman’s eyes shattered in an instant.
Her gaze became vacant, and, accompanied by painful screams, crimson blood flowed out from her facial features through the black iron mask.
The ability to directly manipulate another’s mind was indeed bizarre and powerful, but once facing backlash, it meant dealing a heavy blow directly to the soul.
The shadow behind Rast did not materialize for long, fleeting away quickly.
However, the slightly diminished painful screams from the Masked Woman abruptly ceased.
The silver piercing flashed through the air and disappeared.
There was no scene of flesh and blood flying.
But when the flickering blade of the sword vanished, the Masked Woman’s twisted and snarling face had completely frozen, devoid of color.
A hideous hollow was clearly pierced through her heart.
Then.
Bang—
The lifeless body fell to the ground.
Hiltina’s wrist moved slightly, and the silver sword elegantly returned to its sheath.
Under normal circumstances, battling against an enemy of the same tier within the Shadow Sequence would be extremely perilous, where the slightest chink in one’s mental armor could lead to being exploited, slowly devoured by the opponent’s words and suggestions and turned into a puppet for slaughter.
However, conversely, when the opponent suffers such severe mental backlash due to carelessness and misjudgment, the outcome of the battle becomes predetermined.
Logically, examining the body of this Dancer who had secretly followed her into the Night World to confirm its true identity and origin should be Hiltina’s top priority at that moment.
However, at this moment, she was more concerned about the instigator that had reversed this dangerous situation in front of her, rather than the deceased enemy.
Hiltina turned her head, glaring intently into Rast’s eyes.
Those eyes initially appeared clear and pure, but upon closer inspection, they resembled two depths of water, swallowing light and only leaving behind darkness at the very bottom.
” ‘Tower’ sequence?”
“Are you also a Night Traveler?”
…
Not far away, Rast was also observing the serious-faced sword-wielding girl before him.
After a moment, he put away the silver gun and shrugged, “To be honest, I don’t really understand your words.”
“But if you say so, then it must be that.”
“More than these—”
Rast looked towards the body on the ground, already cold and stiff.
“I’m more interested in what you referred to earlier as the ‘Night World,’ and what you call ‘historical projections’ and ‘natives’…”
“What exactly does it mean?”
(End of Chapter)
