"I'm such a letdown to the reincarnator group. I died just two days after coming back! Sorry, everyone," Andrea mumbled as he drifted through the endless void. All around him was darkness, offering no comfort and leaving him in despair.
Out of nowhere, a bunch of notifications popped up:
[Error] [Error]
[The host is under a curse]
[The curse has changed the warning message.]
[Warning: Dying in this scene will trigger a system-selected reward.]
[Check your status for the reward.]
Andrea's eyes went wide as he read the messages. "Wait, a curse? Seriously?" he muttered, confusion flooding his voice. How did this even happen?
Before he could process it further, the void around him shifted. In an instant, Andrea opened his eyes and discovered he was back in the room just as he was about to leave for his mission.
"Status," Andrea mused as he reflected on the curse and the reward.
[SYSTEM STATUS PANEL]
Name: Andrea Rein
Age: 19 years
Race: ??? | $#@# Human
Attributes:Strength: 18 (+10)
Agility: 18 (+9)
Defense: 8
Constitution: 22 (+10)
Perception: 10 (+5)
Skills:
Active Skills:
One with Darkness: Allows the host to seamlessly blend into shadows, becoming nearly invisible in dimly lit or dark environments. This ability also temporarily enhances stealth and evasion skills, making the user an ideal assassin.
Passive Skills:
Fear Devourer: Absorbs the fear of nearby enemies, increasing the host's strength and agility with each instance of absorption. This ability becomes more op in the presence of terrified foes.
Adaptive Fighting: Quickly learns and counters enemy combat styles, allowing the host to adapt and gain an edge in prolonged or complex battles.
Scythe Mastery: Grants exceptional skill in wielding scythes, enhancing damage and accuracy with this weapon.
Slow Healing: Gradually regenerates injuries at a rate faster than humans but slower than most supernatural beings.
Inventory: Military-grade guns loaded with bullets.
Remarks:
Curse of Immortality: Anyone born from this bloodline bears the curse of eternal life. They cannot succumb to death, bound to live endlessly against their will.
Status:Rank: Low-Level Supernatural
Condition: Healthy
[End of Status]
Andrea smirked as he reviewed his system panel. "I knew this world wasn't normal, and now I'm part of it! So incredible. I just fought a scarecrow, and now I can hunt vampires, wrestle werewolves, ride dragons, and even go toe-to-toe with gods. Who wouldn't think this is awesome?"
He chuckled to himself, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "And let's not forget—I'm immortal. All I need now is to figure out how to make others immortal."
As his gaze shifted to his skills, Andrea's thoughts raced. Fear Devourer... He frowned slightly. "I didn't even know the monster had abilities like this. It explains why it was stronger before the fight."
Adaptive Fighting, His lips curved into a smirk. "So that's why the scarecrow became harder to handle the longer it dragged on."
One with Darkness, His expression turned sharper. "This makes me practically unstoppable in battle. I'm like an assassin in the shadows."
Grrrrrr! Damn, all this fighting makes me so hungry. I need to get a nighttime snack, said Andrea as he left his room.
Dashing to the kitchen, Andrea saw her mom busy with paperwork, relieving stress with coffee.
"Let me test the skill 'One with Darkness' to scare Mom and absorb her fear with the Fear Devourer," thought Andrea as he activated the skill and blended into the shadows, moving stealthily toward his mother.
Just as Andrea was about to scare his mom, Laura said, "Andrea, stop playing behind my back and go to bed. You have school tomorrow." She was unbothered by what her son was doing and continued to work.
Andrea, confused, wondered if his skill had activated. "I just wanted to grab a midnight snack before bed. How did you know I was behind you?"
"Mother instinct, take what you want and go to bed. I am busy, and I need no disturbances," said Laura, frustrated by her son's playful nature.
"Okay, I am going," said Andrea as he walked to the refrigerator. He picked up some biscuits but paused when he noticed a knife beside it, took the knife, and hid it before closing the fridge. Then, he went straight to his room, wishing his mom goodnight.
"Andrea has changed, hasn't he? That bastard awakened him without my consent. Foolish. That skill—" she paused, her gaze darkening, "—should have been invisible to anything less than a high-tier being. Too bad for Andrea—he'll soon realize I'm far beyond such trivial power," Laura mused, her eyes narrowing as her son's silhouette dissolved into the shadows.
Andrea entered his room, his steps slow but deliberate. He grabbed the biscuit he'd taken earlier, biting it mechanically as his mind raced. The sweetness lingered on his tongue, but his thoughts were far from it. Finishing the last bite, he turned and headed for the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft, almost ominous click.
He stepped into the bathtub, the cold porcelain pressing against his feet. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a knife, the blade catching the harsh light and glinting menacingly.
"If I'm truly immortal… just like the system claims…" His voice wavered, but his grip on the knife did not. "Then this… this will prove it."
Then, without warning, he drove the blade across his throat.
Pain exploded through him, and for a split second, doubt clawed at his mind. Blood erupted from the gash, hot and thick, spilling onto the pristine tub and cascading onto the tiled floor like a macabre waterfall. The world spun as his legs gave way, his body slumping into the growing pool of crimson.
The metallic tang of blood filled the air, and the light in his eyes began to fade.
(A/N: And there it was. The moment our reckless protagonist gambled his life away. Stupid, wasn't it?)
[You are dead]
In the Kitchen
"Ah, the idiot killed himself. Just because you find out you're immortal doesn't mean you immediately try to prove it by committing suicide," Laura murmured, her tone laced with annoyance as she glanced at the bloody mess. "Now I have to clean this up. Like father, like son.
She focused on the ancient script in front of her—the incantation she had been trying to decode before Andrea's foolish stunt interrupted her. "I'll have to let Dad know he's awake," she thought, a faint smile curling her lips. "The stronger Andrea becomes, the closer we'll be to being a complete family."
For a moment, her gaze drifted, thoughts lingering on the shadow of something she refused to think about.
(A/N: Laura's patience might be running thin, but she has her own plans brewing. What could she be hiding?)
Unknown
"Haha, I didn't expect him to go through with it," said ##$###$, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he lounged in the chair. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest while Andrea's death replayed on the glowing screen before him.
Yahweh, seated across the room, raised an eyebrow as he sipped from a delicate teacup. The liquid inside shimmered and shifted, almost alive, its true nature impossible to discern. "What do you expect? He's as reckless as you," he said dryly, swirling the strange liquid before taking another sip. Then, after a pause, he muttered to himself, "What even is this stuff?"
##$###$ smirked, leaning forward. "Reckless, maybe. But at least I know when to stop," he replied, his laughter fading into a thin smile as his gaze lingered on the screen.
Yahweh set his cup down, his expression unreadable. "Do you miss them?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant. The question hung in the air like a weight, heavy and unshakable.
##$###$ stiffened slightly, his smirk vanishing as his shoulders slumped. His eyes stayed glued to the screen, watching Andrea's blood-soaked form over and over again. Finally, he spoke, his voice carrying a rare vulnerability. "Of course, I miss them. Every moment of every day."
Yahweh studied his friend carefully. "Then why wait? Why not—"
"Because it's not time yet," ##$###$ interrupted, his tone sharp, yet filled with pain. "Rushing won't change anything. They need to grow. To struggle. To fight. Only then will they be ready."
Silence filled the room, save for the faint hum of the screen. Yahweh leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "And what if they don't make it?"
##$###$ turned to him, his eyes hard but glistening with an unspoken sorrow. "Then I will carry that burden for eternity," he said, his voice resolute.
The screen flickered, showing Andrea's bloodied silhouette fading into the void. ##$###$ sighed, leaning back with a weary expression. "They'll make it, though. They have to. For all of us."
Yahweh picked up his cup again, his lips curling into a faint smile. "You always did put too much faith in people. But… I suppose that's what makes you different."
##$###$ let out a faint chuckle, though it lacked his earlier amusement. "Different, huh? Let's hope it's enough this time."