Blanc's footsteps echoed through the halls of the hospital. Everyone here looked sick, but who wouldn't under the ugly hospital lighting?
Fifteen years ago, the incident had happened. In all that time, nothing had ever been leaked to the press. He was the rising star of the Player community, and the world treated him like a prince.
He slightly chuckled to himself as he once again thought of how the world would turn on him if the truth of that incident had been leaked to the public.
His thoughts turned from flashbacks and what-ifs to the door in front of him: room 777. As he pushed the door open, a strange nervousness filled him, the kind of nervousness he hadn't felt in years. He quickly shook the feeling away. Astor Blanc had no reason to be nervous; he was the first Archbishop and humanity's strongest warrior against the monsters.
The lights in the room weren't on, but the sunlight was still making its way through the windows, illuminating the figure lying in the bed of white sheets. On it was lying a pale figure with white hair that blended in with the bedsheets, almost camouflaging the frail creature against its surroundings.
This was the last survivor of that incident, and he was dying before Blanc's eyes.
Blanc took a moment to find his voice and then spoke loudly, "I came to visit you."
The figure's eyelids snapped open, revealing eyeballs completely colored bright pink. He couldn't tell where the eyes were looking due to the solid color, but they were a dreadful sight to behold wherever the gaze might have been falling.
He was about to speak again when the figure sat up and turned to face him. He knew the man before he was twenty-six, but he still looked to be in his mid-teens. Aside from looking young, though, he didn't look healthy.
A smile appeared on the white lips of the seemingly ageless human, "Oh! Thanks for coming to visit! My eyes aren't working very well, so… sorry to ask, but who's visiting me right now?"
"I am Astor Blanc," he replied without hesitation, waiting to see how the pink-eyed ghoul would respond.
"Okay." The pale figure nodded with a slight smile, "I'm Wilt."
"Wilt… like a dying flower?" Blanc asked, slightly perplexed.
"Yeah…" Chuckled the pale boy, "It's not my real name, but it caught on pretty fast after my hair went white."
They both sat in silence for a few seconds.
"Fifteen years ago…" Blanc began, "I stopped the Bloodfiend dungeon outbreak."
"Okay?" Wilt coughed with a smile and a nod.
"The dungeon's boss made a shield from the highest level of mana poison, and without a second thought, I pierced right through it, killing him in one strike."
Wilt didn't respond this time; he just nodded for Blanc to continue.
This somewhat annoyed Blanc, as he expected some kind of outburst already and hadn't planned to tell this story through its entirety but continued nonetheless.
"Even rookies know that you don't hit mana poison with light magic. It created a deadly pink gas that poisoned a few nearby citizens on the spot. While the outbreak was contained, and no one died immediately, six out of seven died within the next year from the pink poison…"
"And fifteen years later, the seventh is about to." Wilt responded with a nod.
The silence persisted for a few more seconds.
"I'm not here to apologize or ask for forgiveness," Blanc said calmly.
"Well, I forgive you whether you're asking or not." The dying boy responded.
"I caused your terminal illness. You were too weak to keep up with training which got you kicked out of the player academy, and now you can't even live a proper life as a civilian."
"And my lifespan isn't long enough for grudges." Wilt smiled back as his voice became increasingly hoarse.
"I saved lives that day regardless of the incident. There was collateral damage which was my fault, but if I hadn't stepped up that day, worse things would have happened. Grudges or no grudges, either way, it doesn't matter to me. We both know I ruined your life, but I did what had to be done."
Wilt raised a white eyebrow and mustered up the strength to speak again, "First of all… if you "didn't care" so much, then you wouldn't have shown up here. And second of all, just because you gave me a terminal medical condition doesn't mean you can decide that my life is ruined."
Blanc was caught off guard and couldn't think of a response, but Wilt continued anyway, "Yeah, I got kicked out of the Player Academy for being too weak. Yeah, I can't live as a normal human now. And yeah, I'm going to die soon, but I liked my life! Just because you would've considered it torture doesn't mean I can't say I love living! Even if it meant going through all this crap again, I'd do it a second time. I just loved playing the game."
"Whatever," Blanc said, turning around to leave the room. After fifteen anxious years of wondering if the secret would get out, this seemed ridiculous and anticlimactic. This psycho's brain had obviously been poisoned too. He was just glad that after all this time, it was finally over. He turned to make a snide remark to the boy, but the boy was completely lifeless, slumped over the bed's railing.
Everything around Wilt was white. It took him a moment to realize what had happened, but then it all came back.
"Oh, crap! I died in the middle of that conversation! Well, technically, Blanc was the one who killed me anyways, so I guess he can't hold it against me."
A rectangular pink screen floated in front of him, displaying a message.
[You have activated the Gambling System]
[Remaining Tokens: 1]
[Play Again = 1 Token]
"Play again?" Wilt laughed as he poked the "play again" text, "God, if you're giving me another go, then I'll live life to the fullest!"