It was suicidal for a man who certainly didn't have Artes Lines or a Gift to fight against an Awakened.
And yet, Simon didn't seem that bothered.
The old geezer so naturally took another swig of alcohol and gulped down its contents like a fish.
Not seeing Pal as much of a threat.
It was a laughable scene. After all, the self-named hitman called 'Pal' was only ever one man's friend.
To others besides that friend, he was a demon.
In a modern world where one couldn't go guns blazing or bombing streets everyday, Pal had made himself feared as someone with genius levels of intellect when it came to taking people's lives.
Now that he had Mana, it was like giving a tiger some wings. Giving him a flexible tool to use.
It made the former hitman look at his target again.
Becoming even more annoyed.
In the in the garden turned training ground, Simon held a branch in one hand and booze in the other.
Wobbling around like he had no sense of balance.
"You're still not going to let go of that bottle?" Pal felt livid that Simon was still holding onto that.
Did he think the person in front of him was weak?
Just a little rabbit?
"Don't worry. You don't be able to touch it." The drunkard spoke while taking another swig of it.
The already dark expression on Pal's face became even more fiery. Competitiveness of a professional.
"Don't blame me for making you a 'target'." Pal no longer cared if this man was supposedly his mentor.
He'd so graciously saved the man from a destiny of death, and this was his repayment? Insulting him?
No matter how strong an NPC was, how could they beat a 'Player'? He was the one who'd created him.
The one who formed this power system.
Despite that. Despite Simon being a mere martial arts instructor with little use, he dared do that?
Pretend he could beat a true Awakener?
It was time to wake him up to reality...
"No booze for you!" Pal didn't need any tactics to beat this guy. He was already under the influence.
Alcohol wasn't something that created a drunken martial master. It was simply a poison to the body.
Therefore, he had just one word for him.
"Intoxicate." Pal used his 'Word Enchanter' to make that disorientation from the bottle become stronger.
He saw the effects work really quickly. Simon had a face that looked like it'd fallen into intoxication.
A blush on his cheeks from the physical change.
Burping. Looking like he was going to fall over into unconsciousness. Eyes dilated. Mouth hard to speak.
Only able to make some messy grunts.
Pal threw his upper body back and loaded all his strength into a single fist. Ready to knock him out.
"Dat ish sho nishe~!" (That is so nice!)
Simon roared as a fist was coming into contact with his face. However, the result wasn't as expected.
'What?' Pal thought while feeling nothing struck.
His fist gently brushing past the old geezer's face from a single sidestep. Nowhere near close enough.
Then he was struck.
SMACK.
A familiar ringing sensation was heard in his ear. He felt a bump on the back of his head at that point.
Pal was so shocked that he stopped for a moment to check if he really was struck. That he really did lose.
That couldn't be possible, right?
Pal grit his teeth, thinking: 'It was just a fluke.'
He hadn't been taking this seriously enough. That's why someone so clearly drunk could hit like this.
His experience analysing people as a hitman made him absolutely sure the geezer was wasted right now.
So how did he dodge?
How did he strike back?
No, even before all that. How was it that he and Simon could interact with each other like this?
Wasn't the geezer already wasted back then?
It didn't make sense, so he had to treat it as if he was sober. Pretend his opponent was actually cunning.
"Blind. Burn." Pal tapped into his Artes Lines and used his E Rank Magical Talent to double cast.
Inflicting two debuffs on Simon.
He once again charged at the old man, but this time he purposefully hid the sound of his own footsteps.
A trick he learnt back in his own world.
He clenched and balled his fingers into a fist, then aimed directly at the old man's chin to incapacitate.
To knock him out cold. This time-
SMACK.
Another crisp sound of Pal being beaten resounded in the air. He touched his cheek and felt pain.
SMACK.
The second strike threw him. Making Pal roll on the ground as his 'target' wobbled around unbalanced.
"Shorry. Thash wash an accshident." It looked like he'd accidentally beaten him out of reflex right then.
Showing zero signs of affliction.
"How are you still fine? You should be blind!" Pal almost lost control of his voice at asking him this.
He had become confident because he thought of himself as a master of the rules of this world.
But was that a lie?
Was that his delusion?
How could someone without a hint of magical power. Someone with that sort of low setting.
How could they beat him?
The intoxication boost from earlier had definitely affected him. This couldn't be a magical immunity.
So what just happened?
Why?
"Ah, that?" Simon tilted his head while still not making eye-contact with him. Looking confused.
He continued his answer: "I just didn't like it."
"...You what?" That didn't make any sense. Was he fucking with him? Was this a damn game to him?
After making such painstaking effort to create a balanced system that had clear 'rules', how could Pal simply accept that his magic was resisted because Simon didn't want it? Was resisting magic that easy?
Of course it wasn't!
'Resistances' could only be innately inherited by monsters and Mystics. You couldn't simply train it.
A dedicated martial artist could boost their control and ability to ward magic; not resist it upon touch.
That was in the realm of SSS Rank entities.
"I just didn't like it." Simon crossed his arms.
His actions no different than denying the only source of confidence Pal had in this world. Crumbling it.
Pal could not dare admit his ignorance.
If he did that, then fear of death in him might emerge. Not knowing if he could control death.
That he'd manage to return upon dying again.
Sweat started to unconsciously drip despite it not being too hot in the garden. The first time ever...
...he actually feared dying in this fictional world.
This madness couldn't be true.
There was no way he couldn't overcome death.
Wasn't this HIS fantasy world?
All these thoughts slowly infiltrated his weak heart and made his eyes red. He threw out all pretences.
The only thing left in front of Simon was a Beast.
One who didn't want to accept his fate.
"You're fucking with me!" Pal's face twisted when he threw himself at the old drunk master once more.
His efforts all in vain.
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.
For a little while, the sound of an animal being abused with a stick was heard in the garden.
Pal fought relentless and shamelessly.
Throwing out all techniques and even rolling on the ground if it meant getting an upper hand in battle.
When their battle finally ended, it was Pal who knelt.
All his efforts couldn't even tip the bottle in Simon's hand. He felt like his Skills were all worthless.
'Why am I even alive?' He was fine with losing in terms of martial arts, but this was entirely different.
He lost on all fronts.
"How?" Pal asked the old man once again.
Unable to accept this outcome.
There was no way he could possibly comprehend it.
Simon looked at his empty bottle and had lost interest in training him again. Looking around.
His eyes falling upon a plant-like alcohol fountain.
The geezer gleefully hummed while prancing all the way there, then put his dirty bottle in the fountain.
Filling it back up.
Pal was wordlessly watching this scene without changing a shade. A scary look for any third party.
When Simon finally turned back to give him attention, he asked quite the obvious question:
"What do you think is 'Martial Arts'?"
Pal had an immediate answer: "Using physical strength to take down opponents in front of you."
SMACK.
"You daft piece of-!" (Pal)
"Why would martial arts be physical focused? Who told you that? You stupid. Big stupid." (Simon)
"Why wouldn't it be? It's just martial arts." (Pal)
"Stupid. What is this entire world made of?" Simon no longer slurred at some point and asked him.
"...Matter?" Pal thought of it scientifically.
"And what's matter made of?" Simon's follow up made Pal remember what he said not too long ago.
<"The iron in you is from the ground. Earth.">
If 'Earth' was the affinity to magic, then didn't that mean everything, including life, was part of 'that'…?
"Mana." (Pal)
"Right. The world is made of Mana. I'm made of Mana. You're made of Mana. So why would Martial Arts be purely physical related?" It was only after Simon said this did the hitman realise his prejudice.
His insistence in treating this world like a novel was what blinded him to reality. The truth of the world.
Even still.,,
"Then you can control other people's Mana?" Pal thought that was why his curses weren't working.
Was he controlling him?
"No way. Ignoring your Mana is just a matter of heart. I can do it, but others usually can't." (Simon)
"Can you train me to do it?" (Pal)
"How do you train someone to reject reality? They'd go mad before they can do what I did." (Simon)
"Then what's the point?" (Pal)
"Stop being a little wimp. You think you can call yourself a man just because you have a dick? I hope that girl turns your balls into an ice cube." Simon looked annoyed he was being asked such a thing.
"Then what will you teach me then?" (Pal)
"To not die easily. This place has a lot of healing herbs and ointments. Now come here so I can beat you to death." Simon became more violent. The little afro thug didn't know WHY he was being so angry.
Did he say something hurtful?
…Probably did.
"Wait. We can talk this-!" SMACK.
The branch felt like a steel bat that broke his bones.
From this day forth, Pal would always look at Simon holding a stick as something to be feared greatly.
Screaming as he ran away.
…..
….
…
..
,
"Ow…" I felt the fear of death through my body at this moment. The memories of that beating…
…it haunted me even now.
Simon was ruthless and harsh. He violently beat me down within an inch of my life without flinching.
If it wasn't for Talia, I would be dead.
"I'm glad you're training seriously. Keep this up for around twenty years before we set off." Her sense of time seemed completely broken. I didn't have that long until the end of the world, so it was on a timer.
Oh wait, the end of the world.
When I felt like the world was in the palm of my hand, it didn't seem that bad… but now?
I wanted to run away.
But there was nowhere in the world I could.
If I didn't do anything and left tackling it all to George, could I live in peace? What should I do?
My breath started to spike.
"What's wrong?" Talia held my hand. The twisted mindset I'd cultivated made me think uniquely.
Thinking up strange ideas.
"You said that you were going to summon a Succubus?" I asked just to make sure about this.
Talia's expression became cold when she saw me think of my personal needs. She moved away slowly.
"Yeah, I'll let you have your perverted reward now if you want. Until then: Train." She shook her head.
Before she left me here, I grabbed her wrist.
"Wait." I called out strongly.
"What are you playing at?" Her voice more frigid.
She looked on the verge of using the Dungeon's trap mechanisms to slice fingers off the rest of my palm.
I thought about contacting George again and asking for his help to infiltrate New Faustus, but I hated it.
I'd rather die than let him see my weakness.
We weren't brothers anymore. I'd rather discard any hope of meeting him again in our whole lifetime.
It would just make me feel pain…
But that wasn't the point.
"Why don't we use the portal to Hell to infiltrate New Faustus? Then keep them safe there." I spoke.
It was a completely out of the box idea that she made a look of shock over. Not knowing what I meant.
"You mean… You want us to go to Hell?" She glared.
"Pretty much." I spoke straightforwardly since she like it when I was aboveboard with these thoughts.
"That… might not be impossible. It's just…" Talia thought about it deeply. Run to another dimension.
Why go that far?
But she didn't know this world could end in ten years from now. I didn't want to be a part of it.
I didn't want to save this world whatsoever.
It was now time for me to convince her about the benefits of making ourselves known in Hell's realm.
I had no idea if that place even existed, but if she could summon a Succubus then she probably could.
Maybe I can live there in peace at that point.
I didn't know at the time that my crazy decision would cause the disaster to interfere with George.
Changing the story entirely as we both knew it.