Defeat Addiction (3)

"Huaak!!"

I screamed awake at the horrifying sensation of my once-pierced throat being torn out.

"I'm... I'm alive."

The sensation of Eileen's dagger driving through my neck was still vivid. The cold temperature of the metal sinking into my throat, and then, a moment later, the searing, convulsive agony that followed.

"...Ugh."

My stomach was completely empty, so nothing came up, but I still dry-heaved at the memory of that sensation, which clung to me with unbearable clarity.

Being murdered and then resurrected was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠truly hideous experience. I had come back to life here at what they called a Checkpoint, but that changed nothing about the fact that I had, in every sense, died.

If there was one silver lining, it was that I had become immortal—unable to truly die no matter how many times I was killed.

"..."

But of course, that meant people like Eileen, who had already killed me once, could very well slaughter me over and over again. All the more so given the grotesque perk I carried—one that raised the level of whoever killed me.

On top of everything, no fewer than five NPCs had come back to life carrying memories of being murdered by me. Eileen and the rest of them would surely be burning with a single-minded obsession to take revenge on me in this world.

I dragged my palm down my face and gave myself a half-hearted wash.

I truly despised whatever god had transmigrated me into this world saddled with such a godawful perk.

First things first—I need to figure out where I am.

I pushed aside the fury that threatened to consume me and the plans for revenge that came crawling with it, and instead looked around to get my bearings.

A plush bed. A room that had been tidied up, but only halfway. Judging by the occasional books wedged into the closet, it seemed to be my personal bedroom.

The dormitory...?

They'd said I would revive at a Checkpoint after dying, and apparently that Checkpoint was this very bed in the academy dormitory. Relieved, at least, to have respawned somewhere safe, I hauled myself up and started moving.

Thinking a glass of water might help, I took out a cup and filled it from the tap.

"Gulp... gulp."

Even after wetting my parched throat, the uneasiness wouldn't settle, so I headed into the bathroom and washed my face.

"..."

Only when the cold water hit my skin did the tangled mess in my chest finally begin to calm. When I lifted my head, my eyes met those of the man in the mirror.

Black eyes. Black hair. A strikingly handsome man with sharp, predatory eyes was staring back at me with an expression full of turmoil.

The moment our gazes locked, I understood. This was the face of a villain through and through—the kind of beautiful, menacing face that looked like it would treat human beings like livestock.

Even I, the owner of this body, flinched and shuddered at how unnerving it was. It would have been nice to be born with a gentler sort of good ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looks. Instead, this threatening appearance left a foul taste in my mouth all on its own.

Imagining how I must have rampaged through the NPCs in the 1st Playthrough wearing a face like this made my head spin. Even if I earnestly apologized to my victims, insisting I hadn't meant it, no one would ever believe me with a face like this. They'd sneer instead—are you mocking me?—and despise me all the more.

I had, as a child, dreamed of becoming a cool, stylish villain... but this was not what I'd had in mind. I'd wanted to be a villain with a little more depth and nuance. Not a mass murderer who cut people down at the slightest provocation.

Sighing, I ran my fingers over the spot on my throat where Eileen had stabbed me. There hadn't been a single flicker of hesitation in the way she froze my legs solid and drove her blade in.

Of course there wasn't. The world of Desperado Reunion had stood on the brink of annihilation. She was someone who had clawed her way to survival in that kind of world—only to be murdered without reason the moment she crossed paths with the me of the 1st Playthrough. Of course she'd be ablaze with vengeance.

"..."

And yet, the terror of being killed intertwined with the creeping venom of my own rising urge for revenge left me with no way to describe what I felt. Eileen's actions had a perfectly valid justification—but whether that justification was truly valid was a murkier question. Honestly, I thought it would be more righteous to kill the developers who designed the NPC-murder system than to kill me.

"Haa..."

The longer I thought, the more vividly my death replayed itself, and eventually I shuffled out of the bathroom.

Back in the bedroom, I sat quietly on the edge of the bed and wiggled my fingers.

What was I supposed to do now? I'd been transmigrated to a point further in the past than the main story's starting line, so the goal was too hazy to just play this like a game. I didn't even know how to get back to Earth. The stress came crashing down, and I raked my fingers wildly through my hair.

Knock knock—.

Just then, someone rapped on the door.

"One moment..."

Answering the noise on pure instinct, I clambered off the bed and reached to unlock the door—

"..."

My hand froze on the latch.

Nobody should know I'm here.

I had been murdered by Eileen. And she hadn't discovered that I'd respawned here. If resurrection were something the people of this world could do as a matter of course, the Professor never would have warned us to handle our blades carefully during sparring.

Which meant the person standing outside this door was—

"Not going to open up?"

CRUNCH—! A dagger blade punched straight through the door and ripped the handle clean off.

"Shit...!"

Eileen had caught on to my resurrection and come for me. I bolted for the opposite side of the room and flung the window wide open.

Whoooo—. A sharp wind whipped across my cheek, but I paid it no mind and looked down. A sheer drop yawned below. Jumping meant certain death, and there was nothing to grab onto for a leap to the neighboring room.

Creeeak.

The door opened with an unpleasant groan, and the moment of decision was upon me. If I threw myself out the window, I would undoubtedly return here—to this Checkpoint. But leaping to the next room was impossible anyway.

"...Please spare my life!"

In the end, what I chose was begging for my life.

"I didn't kill you on purpose...! Please forgive me!!"

Praying that the old proverb—one word repays a thousand ounces of debt—would somehow hold true, I smashed my forehead against the floor and shouted my apology at the top of my lungs.

Then the approaching footsteps stopped dead. Hoping against hope that Eileen had felt the sincerity in my apology, I raised my head—

"...Ha. Hahahahaha!!"

And Eileen, unlike the wind, began to cackle.

Her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pale sky-blue bob fluttered, and a chilling kind of beauty radiated off her.

"You didn't kill me on purpose? Haha...! Ahaha!!"

Panic had mangled my apology into something absurd, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and Eileen found it so ridiculous she let out an open laugh.

"That's right... You're exactly that kind of person, Dean. The moment you saw me, after just a few words of exchange, you killed me."

"..."

"There wasn't a shred of emotion in it."

Having said her piece, she walked up to me and made me lift my head. My face was smeared with tears and snot, pathetic beyond words.

"So I'm going to kill you for no reason, too."

With that, Eileen gently pressed her dagger to my throat.

"Oh, right. Killing you just now raised my level by ten, didn't it?"

"...!!"

She had seen straight through my perk—Defeat Addiction—the one thing I'd prayed she'd never notice. And then, slowly applying pressure until the blade sank into my skin, she let a skin-crawling smile spread across her face.

"Be my level-up shuttle, Dean. For my sake."

"Gahk...!"

With a rasping scrape, my skin split, muscle sheared away layer by layer, and the blade drove toward my carotid artery. I thrashed against the icy jolt of agony—but my body had already been frozen rock-solid by the cold Eileen radiated. Escape was impossible.

That was my second death.

"...Huaak. Huaak...!"

"Hello, Dean."

Since my bedroom itself was designated as the Checkpoint, the moment I revived and opened my eyes, I found myself face-to-face with Eileen, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"...Fuck...! Ugh!"

The instant I moved to run, my limbs froze solid and I was subdued in seconds.

"The corpse vanished right out from under me, so I was a little rattled. So this is where you come back, huh?"

"Fuck—let go of me!!"

I shrieked and jerked my hips, the only part of me still free, and Eileen shot a contemptuous glance at the vulgar, wriggling display.

"I...! I didn't fucking do anything wrong!!"

"Ha..."

Terrified after being murdered twice, I hurled profanity at her and strained my limbs, trying to shatter the ice—

"Shut that mouth."

"Nngghhhhh!!!!"

Eileen froze my lips shut, then smashed my frozen legs to pieces, cutting off any possibility of escape at the source. My head snapped back against the horrific agony of my legs shattering to splinters, and I screamed myself hoarse through my sealed mouth.

Apparently my continued shrieking grew too noisy for her, because Eileen simply cranked up the output of the frost covering my body.

Once again, I revived from death.

"...Please. Please spare me..."

I never wanted to feel the sensation of dying with my body frozen solid ever again, so the moment I opened my eyes I threw myself flat on the ground before Eileen and begged for all I was worth.

If I'd had even a sliver of power, I would have attacked her outright. But—

At a measly Level 10, I couldn't offer her so much as a token resistance.

"Sorry, but no."

"Please...! Please!! No! I don't want this!!"

Eileen sat on the edge of the bed, brandished her dagger, and came at me.

"You can beg all you want—I have no intention of going easy on you. You didn't go easy on me, did you?"

"Spare me...!! I don't want to die...!"

"Besides, if I'm going to survive the Ruin that's coming, my level needs to climb even higher."

"Kehk...!"

With those words, she drove the dagger into my throat, then let out a small, snickering smile.

Hearing her say it, I was swallowed whole by a terror I couldn't put into words. Defeat Addiction. Eileen had caught on to this grotesque perk of mine—the one that granted her killer a full ten levels—and now there was no escaping her. The more times I died, the stronger she would grow. And I would keep reviving here at Level 10, over and over, exactly as I was.

Tears spilled down my face at the vision of the hellish inferno that lay ahead. And at the same time, blood came gurgling and surging up from the dagger buried in my throat—

And so I met my fourth death.