Chapter 43.1
Chapter 43.1
“But your key only goes up to the second floor.”
His words cut off abruptly. A whoosh of flames erupted menacingly from the main hall on the first floor. The sight of the fire, a surging, crimson tide climbing the staircase, left no time for thought. Without hesitation, they turned towards the stairs leading to the third floor.
Crash! An invisible barrier shattered as they collided with it. They ran frantically, past other people, upwards, ever upwards. Simultaneously, a deafening alarm, like a monstrous wail, swept through the building.
“A suspected SSS-class humanoid monster has appeared. Employees below level 150 are advised to log out or teleport to safety… From this moment, the building entrance is…”
The booming announcement, echoing throughout the building, continued with instructions regarding the closure of the entrance and Damian’s physical description.
Adeline gritted her teeth. Bruja wasn’t a fool. She hadn’t been arrogant enough to think she could capture Damian alone, not when Shade had failed.
From the moment she’d stopped attacking to talk, she’d been buying time to contact other players. Her vacant stare had been part of the act. Now, Leon’s ranked players would be converging on their location.
Fighting Shade without killing him had been difficult enough. Now, they’d be facing multiple opponents? And experience told her each player would have unique abilities, as varied as the flames that seemed to writhe below.
Click, click. Whether due to the announcement or some other reason, the higher they climbed, the fewer people they encountered. With the entrance sealed, their only option was the roof.
Sixth floor. Their ascent halted.
A roar echoed from above, followed by the sound of descending lions—translucent beasts, each more than twice the size of a normal lion. Fire below, ferocious lions above.
There was no avoiding a fight now. They had to break through.
“Let go of my hand. I need to draw my weapon.”
But the intertwined hands remained locked. Damian, gazing down at her, frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
Adeline inhaled sharply and stepped back.
A black liquid bubbled and spread from beneath Damian’s feet. Fanning outwards, the liquid emitted white smoke as it engulfed the entire staircase, forming a wall of poison. The roar of the beasts faded, and the flames vanished behind the liquid barrier.
“Cough!”
Smoke billowed from the marble, forcing Adeline to cover her mouth and cough. Damian, his face hardening slightly, pulled her towards the corridor.
Even so, it would be difficult to penetrate that potent poison, which could melt even marble. And given the toxic fumes, a fire attack would be reckless.
The exertion of their frantic climb caught up with her. Now that they had a moment to breathe, Adeline’s legs weakened. Leaning against Damian for support, she exhaled the breath she’d been holding in against the smoke.
His words, his lack of understanding, made sense. He must have wondered why she wasn’t fighting. Of course, she could fight if necessary. But she lacked certainty, the absolute conviction that killing someone here wouldn’t actually kill them.
Shade’s mangled eye was a case in point. She’d assumed such injuries would heal quickly. Their technology had mended the gunshot wound on Luce’s shoulder in the blink of an eye.
“Where are we going now?”
The fairy, clinging to Damian’s shoulder, spoke.
“I don’t know. Anywhere but here, as long as we can escape. I have no idea where the friend I’m looking for is.”
He spoke with self-deprecating humor, reaching back to loosen his disheveled hair. In the stark white corridor, the fairy, eyes gleaming, whispered,
“Use the teleport.”
Looking back, perhaps this was where they took the wrong turn.
“Go to the fairy factory.”
***
Humanity conquered cities and castles, leaving countless lives extinguished in their wake. Friends who loved to read, friends who excelled at calculations, friends who were masters of marbles, friends who were eloquent and articulate – all dead.
Humanity’s criteria for judging the world were simple: useful or useless.
Unfortunately, not all fairies possessed the same talents. This uniform standard, which disregarded individual aptitudes, rendered the lives of all those who couldn’t enter the factory zones worthless.
Humans held an intensely anthropocentric worldview, as if the entire world existed solely for their benefit, as if the exploitation of other species was essential for their well-being.
Five silver. That was the price tag attached to Rune when he, a fairy deemed unproductive, was expelled from the factory and recycled into a pet shop.
“Hello. You can’t speak, but you understand me, right?”
The first human Rune met was named Riche. She wasn’t a bad person. Driven by curiosity, Riche bought Rune, clothed him well, and provided him with meals. They couldn’t communicate deeply, but a certain affection inevitably developed. Rune believed Riche felt it too.
But their bond went no further. He wasn’t sure whether to compare it to playing with an outdated doll or adopting an abandoned animal, but when District 9 was established and Riche made a new home there, she forgot about Rune.
One day, two days, three… Starving and waiting, Rune finally escaped on the fifth day, climbing out through the chimney. He’d gained his freedom, as natural to him as the wings he’d been born with.
But freedom outside the factory offered nowhere to go. Humans thronged every other place, making freedom synonymous with being prey.
Ah, yes.
Did freedom in death hold any meaning?
In the back alley of a beautiful street, gazing up at the ornate ceiling, Rune pondered this rather philosophical question.
There never was a sky, not for him. And even if there were, his fragile wings couldn’t carry him to such heights.
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