Chapter 44: The Night of Whispers

Chapter 44: Chapter 44: The Night of Whispers

Despite everything, Victor didn’t feel entirely safe venturing into the darker side of the scenario.

First of all, he knew the Wendigo would be waiting for him to begin its macabre game of hide-and-seek. On the other hand, there was the darkness itself, along with the fact that his sense of smell didn’t work properly in that area.

One of his most useful abilities was disabled in that part of the scenario, and it was downright unfair. However, when it came to gods who took pleasure in the suffering of their humble creations, this was nothing new.

’Brika’s flashlight and my knife... They’re the only things that can save me in this place.’

So, what was he going to do next? Right, of course. First, he had to stop wasting time overthinking things and get ready to hunt. With a balance of zero coins in the system, he had to go out and fight.

After organizing his supplies, which mostly consisted of food obtained from the gacha, he was ready to open the door and go kill those damn things. But there was one tiny little problem: the dust storm raging across the scenario.

If he opened the door, his boots would be buried under the dust, and one of those white lightning bolts might strike him right in the head. In other words, with his luck being practically nonexistent, Victor wouldn’t be surprised if a bolt hit him the moment he stepped outside.

That was why he waited beside the door. He checked the System window: the quest was still active, Brika was still alive, and if she lived, Victor would live too. Their lives were now connected.

What a way to form a bond.

[The god "Serpent That Bites Its Own Tail" supports your determination to fight despite everything.]

[The god "Fisher of Opportunities" respects your decision to take risks in order to win.]

[A nameless god silently nods at your determined stance.]

[Other gods have begun to take an interest in your story.]

Victor let out a short laugh as he read those messages. In his attempt to piss the gods off, all he had done was entertain them with his performance as a born survivor.

"You really are a bunch of pieces of trash."

He opened the door in the middle of the storm and ventured into the darkness. Gripping his knife and flashlight, he advanced through the dust, wind, and powerful bolts of lightning and thunder that constantly flashed and roared around him.

His hooded figure, preparing to face the monstrosities lurking in the shadows of the Kingdom of the Black Veil, thrilled the gods, who cheered on the legendary "hero" seeking to grow stronger so he could face the infamous Wendigo.

It was a classic trope in stories: the damsel gets kidnapped, the hero embarks on a journey to grow stronger, and along the way, he saves his beloved. Except that Victor’s heart held no love, only pure survival instinct.

Minutes passed like that. It was nighttime, perhaps, and whispers could be heard behind the dust scraping against the walls of the houses. Held captive by his own weakness, Victor followed the faint sounds to begin the slaughter.

His nose wasn’t working this time, so he would have to rely solely on what his eyes could see by the light of his flashlight and on his combat skills.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck in the distance, illuminating the mist for a brief instant. Victor’s eyes widened in disbelief as the flash revealed a large group of Penitents of the Mist watching him, floating above him like tormented souls.

Their flame-like eyes ignited when darkness returned, and the whispers grew louder, merging with the symphony of the storm. Victor reacted quickly, raising his knife and pointing his flashlight around as he scanned his surroundings.

’I’m right here. Come and get me,’ he thought. Then, he heard a Penitent shriek behind him. He swung his flashlight toward it and, without hesitation, lunged forward like a wild beast.

He roared like a beast gone berserk, stabbing and slashing as the creature tried to sink its claws into his face. Victor, however, didn’t take much damage, as he used Ironclad Defense and Against All Odds to avoid suffering any deep cuts.

Even so, tiny drops of blood trickled down his forehead. The System window informed him that he had obtained fifty coins, and the next Penitent attacked him.

Victor wasn’t particularly good at fighting, but he wasn’t hopeless either. After all, he had been trained by the strictest teacher of all time: life itself. He couldn’t say he was prepared to fight monsters, but he was prepared to survive.

That was why, even as cuts covered his body, he kept killing more and more Penitents as the storm grew wilder. This time, it was more difficult, of course, since the storm was his greatest disadvantage, unlike before.

The Penitents ambushed Victor from four different directions. He could hear them moving, but he couldn’t react in time. After taking a brutal blow from one of them, he stumbled backward, his feet scraping against the ground.

"So that’s how they gave Brika that wound..."

Claw marks appeared across his abdomen, but Victor had his bulletproof vest to protect him from them. He then ran backward through the alleyways, where the storm couldn’t strike with the same force, and stabbed the first Penitent that crossed his path.

The hunt was going smoothly, but a chill ran through his entire body, accompanied by a dangerous sensation that warned him something far more powerful was about to appear. When he pointed his flashlight toward the entrance of the alley, he found himself facing a Penitent larger than the others.

Its ghostly black robes were thicker, and its hands were golden, as if its bones had been coated in gold. The eyes of this big bastard glowed in shades of purple and white. It brought its hands together as a deep whisper echoed in the distance, and a dark sphere formed between its palms, as if it were pure, lightless plasma.