บท 6: Chapter 5: The Book of Greed, Resentful Spirit
Wayne didn't speak; he swallowed his saliva to suppress his shock. He held his breath and focused on William's palm, where the light had flashed for an instant, so quickly that he almost thought it was a hallucination.
When he heard about the urban legends, a premonition rose in Wayne's heart that the world was not as simple as it seemed on the surface.
The scene he had just witnessed undoubtedly confirmed his suspicion.
It was bad; as an ordinary person, Wayne sensed malice from the world. He preferred that everyone was as ordinary as him, rather than dealing with the unknown whimsy of magic.
Unless, he was not ordinary either.
The Book of Greed!
At that moment, Wayne felt an unprecedented desire to open the book.
"Who left you with this mark?"
Confronted with William's interrogation, Abel's expression turned even more perplexed, and after a moment, something came to his mind. However, as soon as he began to speak, the mark of the Death cult follower on the back of his hand suddenly began to change.
A triangle with a bar extended four tentacles from each side, writhing like a simplified black spider.
The mark was not a mere tattoo on the surface; it was engraved deep into the bone marrow and even the soul. The venom-like spider legs spread up through his veins at a visible speed, rapidly taking over his entire arm.
Abel groaned in pain, seemingly struggling against something. His features twisted in agony, and the more he struggled, the more it hurt. At that moment, he found it difficult to speak, let alone breathe.
William's fingers tightened like a vise, gripping Abel's wrist. Warm light flared up once again, dispelling the darkness and driving the spider legs back.
Abel's groaning became more comfortable, and at the same time, The Book of Greed expressed its desire again, making Wayne yearn for it.
It was bad; the target was William.
Thanks to William's help, the pain Abel was experiencing lessened, and he returned to his idiotic state. Babbling, he started talking about a gathering in the warehouse district.
Abel didn't know much, as he was not familiar with the Death cult. To be precise, he wasn't even a peripheral member; he was a follower recruited by mistake.
Due to his year-round labor, he had a feeble gait and lifeless eyes. His skinny shell of a body seemed devoid of life and had been targeted by the nearby followers of the Goddess of Death, leading him astray into the stronghold in the warehouse district.
The cultists were numerous and strong. Abel dared not resist, and after a glass of black rum, the mark of the followers of the Goddess of Death appeared on the back of his hand.
The information Abel provided was inconsequential, with the exception of the warehouse district stronghold, which was worth investigating further. Under William's continued questioning, Abel named a few individuals.
Among them, the name of Bruto, a dockworker, caught everyone's attention.
Madam Laina, Abel, Bruto—their ties intertwined. The scent of a Death Walker on Madam Laina was very likely from Bruto. Even if he wasn't a real Death Walker, he would be an important clue.
"Let's go, to the warehouse district!"
Veronica made a decisive call, and with a black cat in her arms, she walked out of the house.
William knocked Abel unconscious, covered him with a blanket, and followed her out.
Wayne hesitated where he stood, intuition telling him that danger lay ahead and that he would regret going, but not going...
He would regret it even more!
Thinking of the dangerous world and The Book of Greed that he couldn't open, he gritted his teeth and followed suit.
"Are we going to the warehouse district now?"
On the street, Wayne glanced at his watch and agonized, "It's getting late. It will be dark by the time we get to the warehouse district."
Traveling from the docks to Abel's apartment and back to the warehouse district near the docks had taken quite a lot of time. Wayne didn't admit it aloud, but deep down, he was very averse to the nights in Lundan. If possible, he hoped to set out in the morning.
William saw through Wayne's reluctance and clapped a hand on his shoulder—a large hand, warm and strong, surprising him with its heat, and even gave a squeeze: "I suppose you've already figured it out. Yes, Veronica and I are mages, so although the night is terrifying, the moonlight will guide us. There will be no trouble."
Just speak—why the need to touch!
And besides, I can understand the beautiful Veronica being a mage, but how did you, a muscle-bound brute, become a mage? Are you running out of candidates?
Feeling William's strong and warm hand, Wayne's eyelids twitched, and he said dryly: "I've only read about mages in novels. I've heard it's very difficult and requires high aptitude. So... can I become a mage?"
"Sure, but first, you must have your own faith," William said sternly.
"Shut up, you talk too much. Don't drag ordinary people into this," Veronica interrupted coldly.
"I know, but Wayne has already been dragged into this. He's enveloped in such a heavy death aura, and the death-walkers have found him..." William retorted, his voice getting softer towards the end.
It was apparent that he was afraid of Veronica.
Wayne widened his eyes—what did it mean to be enveloped in a heavy death aura, and what did it mean that the death-walkers had set their sights on him? Discussing life and death, it would be nice to be clear.
"Don't be scared, once we eradicate the warehouse area's followers of death, you'll be safe," William said, patting Wayne's shoulder again. Taking advantage of Veronica's lack of attention, he infused a glimmer of light into Wayne's body.
Veronica glanced at William, but said nothing.
————
On the taxi ride, Wayne was silent as if resting with his eyes closed, flipping through The Book of Greed unnoticed by the others.
The book opened!
William had not taught Wayne what magic was, but he had set up a defensive spell on him. It was a simple application of magic power and faith, not complicated, meant to protect Wayne from the threat of death at critical moments.
Wayne was unaware of these details, and he didn't have time to learn, as the moment the light entered his body, The Book of Greed swallowed him whole. It was as if he had gained a key to unlock the contents of the book.
There wasn't much to see—all but a few pages were blank.
The good news was that Wayne's name was inscribed on the first page of The Book of Greed; the bad news was that the book felt alien, a far cry from the original intent of the code he had written.
Wayne, clueless, could only complain that Jose had mixed in personal elements or perhaps, a bunch of bugs had given rise to new features.
When writing The Book of Greed, Wayne added numerous settings: title bonuses, double attributes, immunity to all attributes, gods from other realms, and so on.
One setting called 'Sacrifice' allowed one to sacrifice a player and gain all the items in their bag, freezing their account for seven days.
It was simplistic and unreasonable, severely disrupting gameplay balance, but as a divine artifact exclusive to administrators, it was defensible to be a bit overpowered; otherwise, it couldn't command respect.
After all, as the fourth calamity, if administrators weren't filled with dignity, they'd just end up being played, turning into soft-hearted and virtuous beings.
Now, much of The Book of Greed's settings were greyed out, leaving it uncertain whether they were temporarily locked or permanently deleted. Even if there were some that slipped through, their effects couldn't match the original ones. Take 'Sacrifice,' for example; it went from offering a living being to now making a contract with a certain being.
Wayne tried it, first choosing Veronica, but the signing failed, and his plan to enslave a magical girl fell through.
Reluctantly, he switched to William, but still failed. Even trying with the black cat Monica was unsuccessful.
Unable to sign a contract with a mage or a mage's pet made sense to Wayne—he was too weak, not qualified—but what was the deal with not being able to sign with the taxi driver or random pedestrians on the street?
He had just activated his cheat, ready to make a big move, but it was as if he hadn't at all, and he'd also lost his magic!
Was the cheat too harshly nerfed, or was the user simply too feeble and incompetent?
The more Wayne thought about it, the more shortchanged he felt. Just then, The Book of Greed successfully captured a being capable of signing a contract.
No, it was a resentful spirit!
On the blank pages of the book, a series of blood-colored codes emerged, forming a contract, awaiting Wayne's signature for confirmation.
Without hesitation, Wayne signed his name on the contract with a thought.
[Lowly supplicant, wronged spirit filled with resentment, I have heard your wails…
Under the witness of the sacred contract, all that you have is mine. You may retain your past but will lose your future…
You have been granted a chance at rebirth. You shall become the Resentful Spirit, wielding the slaughtering knife for your master, for your goddess, for me.]
Wayne: (´_ゝ｀)
This thing, well, doesn't sound like a good guy!
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