Demon's day after the duel against Luke was even worse than the night, if that was even possible. After eating, he returned to his room to rest, and since he couldn't sleep, he did the only thing he had to do here — he read the book about the Roman Empire that Giovanni had given him.
Even though he was extremely tired and couldn't absorb much of the content, reading the book helped him pass the time. But unfortunately, after a while, an uncomfortable sensation in his wounds prevented him from focusing on the reading.
Demon felt a growing sharp pain in his wounds, a burning sensation, as if something were tearing through his skin. This pain made it impossible for him to concentrate on reading, and over time, it grew to an unbearable level, making him break out in a cold sweat.
Soon after, swelling began to spread across his stomach and left forearm, adding a feeling of heat and pressure to the already unbearable pain. Demon had no idea what the hell was happening, and since he wasn't a doctor, he could only come to one conclusion — his wounds had become infected.
Well, even though they had already been stitched up and properly taken care of, Demon couldn't find any other reason for the pain besides an infection. Because of this, he went straight to the bathroom to clean his wounds with alcohol.
As soon as he poured alcohol over his wounds, that infernal sensation of being burned alive consumed him. But strangely enough, a few seconds later, he felt relieved. Even though the swelling hadn't disappeared, the pain had stopped, as if the alcohol had numbed it.
Demon let out a relieved sigh. For a moment, he had thought he was in serious trouble. If the pain had continued, he knew it would be impossible to fight against anyone in the next event. And even though he knew nothing about an upcoming event, he was certain it would happen soon.
That was how the company operated, after all. It was normal to have two or three events a week, and on special occasions, it was possible to have events every day of the week. The reason for this? Money. Every event filled the coliseum to maximum capacity, and that meant only one thing to the owner of the company — rivers of money flowing into his pockets.
Besides, the company never cared whether you were injured or not. If you were summoned for an event, the only way to avoid entering the arena was to die beforehand. That's why Demon was so relieved that the pain had stopped — he knew very well that he could only rely on himself to survive in this hell.
But even though he felt relieved, he didn't let his guard down. After drying his wounds, he grabbed the jar of medicinal ointment from his sink and applied it over his injuries. He wanted to make sure that strange pain wouldn't return and that the swelling would go away.
He then used some bandages to wrap his wounds and left the bathroom. Since the pain had stopped, Demon decided to go back to reading his book. However, just as he sat down, he heard two knocks on the door, making him stand up again.
"Come outside now!"
Demon heard the voice from behind the door. From the authoritative tone, he knew it was a guard, which made him think for a moment about the situation. It was rare for a guard to knock on his door out of nowhere, so for this to be happening now...
'Oh God, you've got to be kidding me!'
Demon internally complained before walking to the door and opening it. As he expected, there was a guard on the other side. Without thinking too much about it, Demon looked down at the ground in front of the guard, and just as he had predicted, there it was — the package in which the company delivered their uniforms.
Demon sighed. He didn't even need to hear the guard to know what was happening... but since the guard didn't know that, he announced in a strict, cold tone:
"Demon, you have been selected to fight in tomorrow's event. Your opponent is number seven."
The guard didn't wait for a response from Demon; he simply turned and walked away, leaving Demon lost in his thoughts...
'Fuck!'
Demon cursed internally. For a brief moment, he just stared ahead while countless thoughts ran through his mind. To sum them up... He was screwed. Oh yeah, he was absolutely screwed.
To begin with, he simply wasn't in any condition for a duel tomorrow. He was all stitched up, and his wounds were far from healed. On top of that... he hadn't slept in two days! And the worst part? Tomorrow's duel wouldn't be an easy, standard fight... No, tomorrow's duel would be against an employee ranked in the company's top 9!
Number seven, to be exact! Even though Demon was the company's number one, he acknowledged the strength of a top 9-ranked employee. They were his neighbors, after all — only those ranked in the top 9 were allowed to live on the third floor of the tower. And even though Demon believed none of them were a real threat to him, that only applied when he was in normal condition!
To be honest, he had probably never been in worse shape than he was now — both physically and mentally. And to face a top 9 member in this state... I mean, the minimum requirement to be in the top 9 was winning one hundred duels! That's a hundred kills! And that was just the damn minimum requirement!
But don't get me wrong... Demon still didn't believe he was going to lose. It was just that this duel was going to be a real pain in the ass...
'Looks like I'll have to put in a little effort...'
Demon sighed before accepting his situation. He then used his right foot to drag the package on the floor into his room and shut the door. But as soon as he closed it, an infernal pain made him drop to his knees, and at the same time, he had to fight the urge to let out a desperate scream...
That sharp, tearing sensation on his skin — the one he thought he had gotten rid of — overwhelmed his wounds again. His abdomen and left forearm burned as if they were being seared by molten metal, and the pain rapidly spread throughout his entire body.
In the midst of so much pain, a true sense of despair filled Demon's heart. For a few moments, he gave in to the pain, lost that little hope he had left, and accepted that he was going to die here in such a pathetic way. But... after those brief moments, Luke's face flashed in Demon's mind, and along with it, that damned desire he had been trying so hard to ignore also surfaced, taking the place of despair in his heart.
Gathering all the strength he still had, Demon forced himself to stand. In his mind, he could only think of one thing. Alcohol! He needed alcohol! The pain had disappeared after he had cleaned his wounds with alcohol last time, so naturally, he believed that this method would work again.
He walked with some difficulty toward the bathroom, and as he did, he tore off his shirt and the bandages he had just put on his wounds. As soon as he reached the bathroom, he desperately searched for the bottle of alcohol on the sink, knocking some things over in the process.
Without caring whether anything had broken, Demon grabbed the bottle of alcohol and opened it, spilling a little on the floor before pouring it onto his forearm, his abdomen, and the rest of his body.
Almost instantly, Demon felt the burning sting of alcohol seeping into his wounds. However, unlike last time, the sharp, hellish pain continued coursing through his body, not diminishing in the slightest. In fact, along with the pain caused by the alcohol, the agony Demon was feeling had only intensified.
Nearly losing consciousness due to the pain, Demon gritted his teeth tightly as he struggled to stay awake and thinking. Since the alcohol had not worked, he could only think of one solution to avoid dying — the infirmary. He needed a doctor. Without hesitation, he stumbled out of the bathroom, trying to reach his room's door to call for help from the guards.
However, midway through, Demon felt his vision blur more and more... He felt the pain overtaking his mind as his legs gave out from weakness, sending him crashing to the floor. He looked up toward the door and stretched out his right hand, trying to reach it... but he was too far away.
He tried crawling toward the door, but he had no more strength left. As the pain consumed his entire body, Demon felt his eyes forcibly closing... The last thing he saw was his right hand reaching for the door before his eyes shut completely, and his consciousness faded into the depths of his mind.
As if he had entered a deep sleep, Demon collapsed onto the floor of his room, not knowing if he would ever wake up again. His final emotions? Despair, guilt, resentment... and regret.
***
"Wake up! Wake up! We leave in two hours!"
Demon awoke to the shouting and pounding on his door. He opened his eyes with difficulty, feeling a little dizzy and groggy. However, he quickly noticed something. Or rather, the absence of something. That hellish pain was gone!
It took Demon a moment to process this detail. Last night, when he had been losing consciousness from the pain, he had truly thought he was dying. But there he was, alive, without feeling even a hint of pain.
For a moment, he thought it had all been a terrible nightmare, but upon noticing that he was lying on the floor, shirtless, he dismissed the thought. But the fact that it had all been real only made things more confusing... Why the hell had he felt that infernal pain? And also, why the hell wasn't he feeling anything now?
Demon had no idea what the answers to these questions were, but in the end, he had to admit that the pain hadn't been all bad. I mean, the pain itself had been horrible, but thanks to it, he had managed to sleep through the entire night without being tormented by his mind! This must have been what people called a blessing in disguise!
He was lucky! And with that thought, Demon's mood improved considerably as he got up. But well... Demon quickly realized that life was no bed of roses because, as he was getting up from the floor, his eyes happened to land on his left arm. Well, what he thought was his left arm.
His left forearm was completely covered in what looked like a thick, dark, hardened layer of skin, and that layer was spreading to his hand and the rest of his arm as well. The moment Demon saw it, he recognized what it was immediately, but that didn't help him keep calm.
His arm was necrotizing! That meant it was dying, little by little! Demon tried his best not to panic, but that was incredibly difficult! He knew full well that he could lose his left arm because of this — after all, he could no longer feel anything besides a strange numbness in it!
But then, a terrifying thought crossed Demon's mind. He remembered that his left arm wasn't the only place where he had felt that sharp pain last night. As a chill ran down his spine, Demon looked down at his abdomen, only to see that the wound Luke had inflicted on him was also completely covered by that blackened crust. Even the whip mark he had received from that spoiled brat was starting to turn black as well.
He was screwed! Completely screwed! A necrotized arm could mean he'd have to amputate it. But a necrotized chest and abdomen? Oh yeah, he was really screwed!
On top of all that, Demon knew he couldn't go to the infirmary until after his duel at today's event. He wasn't even sure if he could be cured in his current state — much less in a few hours, when things would be even worse!
To be honest, analyzing the situation as a whole, Demon was having a hard time imagining any scenario where he survived today — even if he won his duel! But...
'At least I got some sleep...'
Demon had to hold back from laughing at himself and his utterly desperate situation. But luckily, something else happened that caught his attention... The sound of several people talking echoed from the other side of his door, and Demon knew very well that this was not normal around here...
Curious, Demon threw on a long-sleeved shirt to hide his necrotized wounds from the others, shoved his left hand into his pants pocket, and opened his door — only to see a crowd of people gathered in the hallway, all staring at the same scene.
"What the fuck?!"
Demon let a small phrase slip out in surprise. He really hadn't expected to see this kind of scene right now...