After knocking out the last kidnappers within the forest, he finally paid attention to me. Scrutinizing each inch of my body, determining whether I am an enemy.
Without hesitation, I dropped my hands in surrender, "I mean you no harm."
My words didn't seem convincing enough for him. He must have smelled the blood staining my body. "Why did you kill them?" he asked, his voice seething.
Even though he brutally beats evildoers, like any hero, he scrutinizes killers. A man of faith, after all, every life is sacred. I could only blame myself for my luck in encountering him. Other heroes might listen to reason. Not Daredevil. He has a great moral stance against murder, and even when the actions were for the greater good, he would prefer justice over death for his enemies.
Still, I would try to reason with him. Nevertheless, it was highly unlikely I would get out of this situation without engaging in combat. "It was do or die. They wanted me dead, and I returned the favor," I answered, genuinely, knowing full well he could detect lies with his super senses.
Daredevil's jaw tightened as he processed my words. He took a step closer, his presence imposing and unyielding. "There's always another way," he replied, his voice low but intense. "Killing isn't justice. It's vengeance. And vengeance only leads to more bloodshed."
His words carried the weight of his convictions, his unwavering belief that every life, even those of criminals, held value. "You think this ends here?" he continued, his tone a mixture of frustration and determination. "Their deaths won't bring you peace. It'll just pull you deeper into the darkness."
I could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his desire to stop me and his hope to reach me with his words. But I knew, in this moment, words alone might not suffice. The tension between us crackled like electricity, and I braced myself for what was to come.
Strangely, my fear wasn't rooted in the belief that Daredevil would attack. Despite his stringent morality, I still held onto the hope that he might let me go. What truly frightened me was myself. I wished to remain cold and emotionless as I had been when the Perk was active. But perhaps it was the absence of immediate danger—the calmness began to fade, making way for a rising anger that threatened to overwhelm me with regret.
How dare he! How dare he speak of all that noble shit! Those men! They wanted to kill me! Why should I give them mercy? They are kidnappers, murderers, criminals of the lowest kind! And he expected mercy from me! I've made my decision. Fuck this idealist piece of shit! If I don't punch him in the face today, I will not be satisfied!
Maybe it was the neutral demeanor I exuded, or the constantly relaxing movements. Daredevil did not expect a single thing when I threw a punch in his face. He reacted, but too slow to do anything about it. A great satisfaction surged through my body once my fist landed squarely on his face. It was powerful, fueled by rage, and like a ragdoll, he was sent tumbling down to the ground.
"How would you know?" I shouted, angrily.
No word was uttered. He stands there looking at me, with a soften expression, putting his baton back into his weapon holder.
I was tempted to express my anger at his hypocrisy but faltered at the very end. His actions cooled down my unbridled rage. Instead of subduing me for punching him, he simply walked past me.
As he walked by, a realization hit me like a lightning bolt. He had let me punch him—guilty, perhaps, for his initial judgment. Reflecting on what had just happened, I recognized the hypocrisy and irony in my thoughts. He was trying to help me, but instead of accepting it, I had judged him based on my limited knowledge, as if he were just a character in a story. But he wasn't. He was a living, breathing human being. Judging him based on a media portrayal was no different from assuming he would detain me just because he's a hero.
The weight of my own hypocrisy settled heavily on me. I had condemned him for holding to his ideals, yet I had been blind to the complexities of his humanity.
Before he walked into the warehouse, I grabbed his shoulder and said, "Sorry."
He paused, giving me a brief nod of acknowledgment, before continuing on his way.
Feeling a mix of embarrassment and newfound understanding, I made my way to rescue Adam, sprinting with all my might to escape from the awkwardness.
It didn't take long for me to find Adam. His annoying groan, and vigorous thrashing around like a wild animal can be seen from afar. "Will you stop trashing!" I shouted.
"Richard! Is that you? Are you alright?!" He screamed, his voice lace with worries. Typical Adam even when he's kidnap, restricted, and blindfolded. He cares about others more than himself.
"Yes, I am alright. Now will you just calm down. It is hard when you are moving and shouting like a caged animal." I started, while making easy work on his restrain.
"Fine." He said, tilting his head away from me. While acting angry at my rude remark. Though I can see from his expression that he was happy.
"By the way how did you escape Richard." Adam asked while stretching his sore arms.
I didn't respond, pointing instead at the red suited devil walking around the room rescuing people one by one.
"Is that Daredevil!" He shouted excitedly.
"The legend himself." I replied, walking toward the exit.
Adam followed, with lots of rambling about his somewhat idol, Daredevil. "Where are you going? Daredevil right there. Let go talk too him."
I didn't respond, choosing to walk further and further away. Adam seemed to read the atmosphere even though it was too late, walking alongside me silently.
We walk for miles following a dirt road pave by the kidnappers for their vehicles. During the long trek I also explored the system function.
**Terraria System**
**Terraria System**
[Health]: 20/20
[Mana]: 20/20
[Inventory]: Life Crystal Shard
[Perks]: (Terrarian Mind)
[Money]: 5 Gold Coins, 95 Copper Coins
[Quest]: [Current Quest Details]
[Shop]
[Crafting]
First of notice is the Life Crystal Shard.
(Life Crystal Shard)
Description: A fragment imbued with the essence of life, part of the miraculous Life Crystal. Collecting enough shards will allow an individual to forge a complete Life Crystal.
Condition: Collect 1 out of 4 shards to form a complete Life Crystal. (1/4)
Interesting, the changes are more than just the perk features. The items are also different, Life Crystal are obtaining through Life Crystal Shard, make sense since I cannot obtain by mining. That being said, is this the only way to obtain Life Crystal or are can it be bought from the shop. Who knows, only time will tell.
Moving on from what's inside my inventory. I asked the reasoning behind giving me the Terrarian Mind as replacement.
[Due to Host being in danger from the beginning. Survival Protocol and Compensation was activated to readily save Host and compensate putting Host in a terrible body.]
"Danger? What danger?" I questioned.
[Quest: The Hidden Blade]
Description:
Peril whispers on every breath, trust a fleeting, fragile breath.
Eyes deceive, hearts betray, in shadows, truth may lay.
Look closely, never stray, the secret hides where you stay.
In shadow's embrace or daylight's gleam, the killer weaves a deadly dream.
Seek the truth, unmask the guise, or face your end beneath cold skies.
Unveil the foe, or meet your doom—death waits within this silent room.
Reward: 10 Gold Coins, Merchant Shop
After reading the description, my eyes drifted from the floating blue screen to the person standing in front of me. A sudden chill ran down my spine, goosebumps rising on my skin.
"What's wrong?" Adam asked, confused by my sudden stare.
I quickly recovered from whatever it was that had gripped me. "I just felt really scared… and sorry for you," I said, pointing at his face. "I mean, look at what they did to you. Your face—it's all bruised up. Makes you even uglier than usual."
"Goddamn asshole! You know, for a moment there, I thought you actually felt sorry for me," Adam shot back, feigning anger as he swung a punch at my shoulder.
With a swift motion, I caught his arm, halting his momentum. "Nice try," I smirked, pushing his arm back to him.
He snorted, pretending to be mad as he distanced himself from me. Normally, I would've found this silly. But now, I'm conflicted. Voices in my head insist it's just paranoia from all the danger I've faced recently. Yet, beneath that, a whisper of truth guides me to the opposite conclusion.
Whatever the case, I'll need to keep my guard up. Adam may not be the only one coming for me after today.
The walk back was oddly calming, with an underlying edge of danger. I can't believe such thoughts are coming from my own head. Yet here they are, growing stronger with every step. The more I think, the less I recognize myself. And yet, despite this unsettling shift, I find myself grateful for the Perk. It may be pulling me away from who I used to be, but it's also keeping me alive, shielding me from whatever horror lies in wait.
Finally, home, I head straight to my small bedroom. It's a cramped, claustrophobic space that barely accommodates me. No windows, just four vanilla walls enclosing a bed, a table, a couple of chairs, and a small cabinet. It's not much, but it's better than sleeping on the cold, hard streets of New York.
I lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, desperately searching for something—anything—to prove me wrong. I want to be wrong. I want to see hope, to believe that my suspicions are just paranoia. But there's nothing. Every piece of evidence points to him—his actions, his mannerisms, and most damning of all, the quest.
I want to confront him, to force the truth out and confirm whether he really is the hidden killer. But reason holds me back. If he truly is the danger that's been lurking all along, the last thing I should do is confront him head-on. Who knows what kind of weapons he has hidden in this house? And right now, I have the element of surprise on my side. Losing that would put me at a massive disadvantage.
I clenched my fists, struggling to make my final resolve. Never would I have thought that the moment I stepped into this world, danger was already lying in wait, embedded deep in my life.
Fuck! I screamed within my subconscious, slamming my fist into the bed.
Why does it have to be him? Two months of friendship. Two months! I lamented, hating myself for being so indecisive. Attachments aren't supposed to be this strong in such a short time. So why am I struggling to make the choice to kill him?
Chaotic emotions swirled frantically in my mind, leaving me lost and unsure. In moments like this, I wished the Perk would just erase all my emotions. But it didn't work.
Fuck the stupid conditions of this Perk! Just overwrite my feelings. Please, I'm not strong enough to kill him, I shouted inwardly, my thoughts spiraling as I continued to punch the soft bed.
Hours go by as I struggle in the whirlwind of conflict. All those hours, however, weren't in vain. I have steeled my resolve, knowing what must be done for my own survival. I will kill him and rid myself of the danger that plagues me.
I stood in the dim light of my cramped bedroom, my breaths shaky as I gripped the knife in my hand. The longer I looked at it, the more I realized that my resolve was as fragile as glass. The weight of what I was about to do felt like an anchor, dragging me down into an endless abyss. This wasn't just a decision; it was a leap into the unknown, a betrayal of a friend, and the consequences that would follow.
Stepping out of my room, I made my way toward Adam's door. Thankfully, it was close by, making the journey less torturous. I inched closer and closer, opening the door gently, without a sound. There he lay, unsuspecting, in his bed. Each step felt like a trial of will. The closer I got, the heavier the knife fell in my hand. My heart pounded in my chest, the sound of it filling my ears like a relentless drumbeat. As I raised the knife, I hesitated—just for a moment, but long enough. That split second of doubt, that crack in my resolve, was all it took.
It seemed I was careless, too caught up in my own emotions to remember that Adam might have measures in place for intruders. I paid for it dearly as a knife came rushing directly toward my heart.
Fear overwhelmed me—I was going to die. But just as quickly as the fear came, it vanished. It was unnatural; my once chaotic mind suddenly became tranquil. My eyes sharpened, my breathing steadied, and my arm moved with precision, clashing my blade against his, shifting its trajectory. I had saved myself from a fatal blow, but as a harsh lesson in my own incompetence, I still felt the sting of his blade cutting into my left chest, spilling a geyser of blood.
The pain was agonizing, but I didn't flinch or react to it. Everything other than killing was ignored. Nothing would distract my mind from eliminating my foe. This is the mentality of the Terrarian.
Without pausing, I flipped the grip of my knife and struck back, aiming directly at his chest. He was quick, shoving me away, saving himself from death—but not his arm. I was out for blood, and if I couldn't kill him, I would at least cripple him. With a precise slash, I managed to wound his knife arm, leaving it useless and limp.
I thought it was a good trade, but irritation still gnawed at me. The action was effective, but it wasn't enough. There was so much more I could have done—not just now, but before. If I were stronger, I wouldn't have had to clash with the knife; I could have gripped his hand and changed its trajectory more precisely, preventing the injury entirely. But because I'm physically weaker than him, I stand to lose more than I gain.
These reflections flood my mind, giving me ideas for future development. They also highlight the power of a sharp mental state. With a calm and cold mind, any battle can be analyzed and won with enough time and preparation.
Simultaneous to those thoughts, my body moved with ruthless precision, capitalizing on the opportunity of a pained opponent. I slid my left hand under the handle of the knife, using it to increase the force behind my next stab.
Despite his anguish, Adam was experienced enough to suppress the pain for the sake of survival. He twisted to the left, narrowly dodging my all-in strike, suffering only a graze. But he wasn't done. Using his crippled arm, he elbowed me hard in the stomach, sending me tumbling off the bed. In a fluid motion, he switched his weapon to his left hand and charged toward me.
This is good. Although I don't know much about Adam's mastery over knife combat, I'm confident in the Terrarian's mastery of every weapon. I stand before his attack without a hint of fear—only excitement—knowing that victory is within my grasp.
He initiated with a stab. I countered with a downward slash, using the remaining force to quickly raise my knife upward, aiming it directly at his chest. Although the movement appeared lethal, the intent was not. In a fight between skilled individuals, a straightforward attack rarely lands.
My judgment corrected. Without hesitation, Adam used his limp arm to smack my thrust aside while tilting his body just enough to evade the fatal blow. But his maneuver left him fully exposed, both hands down, and unable to protect himself from the fist driving straight toward his face.
He was aware, but there was little he could do to avoid the devastating blow to his head. Still, he was skilled enough to ensure my fist didn't hit his chin, preventing a knockout.
The damage, though reduced, still left him dazed for a few moments—just long enough for me to slice deeper into his wounded arm, nearly severing it. Pain surged through his body, and it showed. His movements became shaky, his skin paler, his body slower from the blood loss.
He was nearing death, becoming more and more vulnerable. I could kill him now and end it all. However, as the battle progressed, I found myself questioning his intent. What was his reason for befriending me? So, my strategy shifted—from killing to subduing. I needed answers before I ended him.
I threw my knife at his legs, an unexpected attack that caught him off guard. A fighter's intent doesn't usually shift midway; no one goes from killing to subduing on a whim. Nonetheless, he reacted quickly, moving his leg just in time to avoid a fatal injury. However, this maneuver left him in a precarious position, off-balance and exposed. I seized this opportunity for a final attack, one that would knock him out cold.
Without hesitation, I rushed at him, aiming a low kick at his legs with my shin. The kick, though not powerful, nearly toppled him. In that moment, I wound up the greatest punch I've ever delivered, channeling my full body weight into a single, devastating blow. Of course, an all-in attack left me vulnerable. He noticed this and attempted to stab me, likely thinking I'd hesitate at the last moment. But how wrong he was—I had anticipated his move. I knew he would counterattack, so I limited his range of motion. No matter what he did, his knife would only dig deep into my shoulder. It would be a severe wound, but he would be knocked out. As for the consequences of the injury, I already had a plan to deal with it.
Everything was perfectly aligned for the inevitable punch. Two loud thuds echoed through the room—the first from my fist impacting his skull, the second from his head smashing against the floor. He was out cold.
Immediately after, I searched the house for cloth and alcohol to temporarily close my wound. I knew that once Adam was dead, I would gain access to the Merchant shop and the miracle healing potion it offered. After everything was settled, I returned to the room and tied him up with ropes, preparing for the interrogation.
It didn't take long for him to regain consciousness. Albeit disoriented and dazed, he struggled to process his surroundings, weakly looking around, trying to make sense of the situation. I didn't give him any more time—partly because I was losing strength myself, and partly because he might die before answering my questions.
I splashed water on his face, then grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head up to begin the interrogation. "Who are you?" I demanded.
"Adam," he replied weakly. My response was immediate—I slapped his wounded arm hard. "I don't care about your name! Tell me your identity! Which organization are you from?" I shouted, my voice shaking with desperation.
He groaned but said nothing, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Frustration flared within me, and I applied more pressure, trying to force a response. He whimpered in pain, but still, not a single word escaped his lips.
As my frustration grew, I noticed something alarming—he was trying to kill himself, biting down on his tongue to end his life before he could be forced to talk. I quickly pried his mouth open, trying to stop him, but my lack of strength made it impossible to prevent the inevitable. I had to pull my fingers out before he could bite them off and reverse the situation. Just like that, my friend of two months in this world was gone.
[Congratulations, Quest Complete]
Reward: 10 Gold Coins, Merchant Shop
As I looked at the notification, tears trickled from my eyes. What have I truly become?