Dual Personality? (2)

Calming Magic.

A second-circle spell that did exactly what it said on the tin — it settled emotions down.

I'd heard it was commonly used to subdue rampaging monsters, especially orcs that started showing up from the fifth floor onward. Apparently the results were surprisingly solid. Of course, it didn't wipe out bloodlust entirely — more like dumping a bucket of ice water over someone who'd worked themselves into a frenzy.

If it had actually manipulated emotions outright, it would've been classified as hypnosis magic ages ago, and the circle rating would've climbed with it.

All good, except for one thing.

There was exactly one detail that stuck in my craw.

Was it actually safe to cast on a person?

The spell had been designed to rein in monsters gone berserk with no sense of self-preservation. Even if it was only second-circle, its potency was nothing to sneeze at.

Way too good? What exactly was the standard for "too good" here?

"You've got to be kidding me."

Suddenly depressed mid-fight?

Getting too worked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up was a problem, sure — but swinging all the way to excessive calm was poison in its own right. A healthy dose of dopamine in combat was what let you forget fear in the first place.

So in short, the choice was either get so hyped I died, or take a Calming Magic to the face and die depressed. One or the other.

Technically I'm not really "hyped," though.

My thought process just twisted a little, that was all.

Yeah. The moment I entered the Tower — no, the moment I even got near it — my personality just flipped into a girl who loved killing monsters. That was all.

It wasn't some mindless, feral state where I lost all reason and went berserk. That was the important distinction.

The reply came instantly. Clearly he had no idea what I was even talking about.

"No choice, then."

If I wanted these guys' help, I was going to have to explain my situation more specifically — even if it meant getting treated like a weirdo.

I wrote down the feeling I'd had just earlier, as honestly as I could. Of course I filtered a little. Petty details like "the monsters were weaker than I expected so I only used one hand to enjoy it longer" got cut. No matter how I spun it, that one made me sound like a genuine lunatic who'd get locked in a psych ward.

The reactions detonated.

"Ah."

I'd thought I'd stripped out the worst of it. Turns out even this was plenty insane. My time in the Tower had clearly warped my thinking more than I'd realized.

"Alright, damage control first — just say I misspoke…"

I refreshed the gallery to start cleaning up the mess.

And in that exact moment, new posts started pouring in at a blistering pace.

In real time, my image was freefalling into "psychopath who gets off on murdering monsters." At this rate, every post I made in the gallery would just get "MAKIIIIYAAAA!" scream-replies forever.

I scrambled out a new comment.

Too late. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Every single reply was either a scream or a screaming emote.

For the sake of my peaceful gallery browsing, I had to set the record straight before it got any worse. I hammered at my phone screen in a panic.

"I'm serious."

My personality did a hard flip the second I set foot in the Tower — what the hell was I supposed to do about that?

I didn't even get a chance to stew in the injustice before another comment dropped.

MagicLover. True to form as a professional gallery addict, at least this one was asking a halfway normal question. I answered with full sincerity.

Yeah. Completely cooked.

In a way, I'd just personally escorted my last remaining ally out the door. The day my image recovered in the Magic Gallery looked infinitely far away.

"Ah, I'm screwed."

Whatever. I tossed my phone aside and flopped onto the bed. By morning it'd probably die down on its own. Galleries swapped out their main topics every other day anyway.

But contrary to my expectations, those idiots were still blooming conversation after conversation ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠about me the next day.

These guys really had nothing better to do.

Same as always, I made breakfast, snapped a photo, and uploaded it to the gallery.

"Hmm."

Not a single normal comment, as expected.

"Ugh. I give up."

Fine. Knock yourselves out.

I shoveled down breakfast and geared up.

Whoosh!

"Body feels good."

If I had to name one upside to becoming this body, it was the tireless stamina and recovery. One night of sleep and the day's fatigue vanished like it'd never been there. Made me understand why people said kids had infinite energy.

"Might as well climb the Tower right now."

Originally I'd planned a productive day — gathering info through the gallery, selling the mana stones I'd earned. But with the gallery in that state, I couldn't get anything done. The first button was already fastened wrong.

In that case, climbing the Tower to test Calming Magic's effects wasn't a bad idea either.

"Test Calming Magic, put the blade through its paces, and grab some proof shots."

A chance to repair my ruined image and raise the prestige of the "Heavenly Demon" username another notch. A plan so airtight you couldn't find a single hole in it.

"Taxi!"

I headed straight outside and flagged one down.

Third floor of the Tower. Nightmare.

"Calm."

The instant I entered, I cast Calming Magic on myself. I did feel a little more settled, maybe.

Then the light faded, and familiar shapes stepped into view.

Goblins. Ten of them again. Was Nightmare difficulty always locked at exactly ten goblins?

There was one difference from last time, though.

"The colors are a bit different this round."

Scattered through the pack were a few with red skin. Those were hobgoblins, if I remembered right — variants, same category as the goblin shaman.

"Well. At least I can enjoy this a little longer."

Snap!

I flicked my fingers lightly.

Shiiing!

The blade strapped to my back rose of its own accord, sliced through the air, and came to a stop in front of my hand.

"I've decided to use this one today, so do me a favor and last a good long while."

I clenched the floating hilt tight.

Alright then. Let's see how well today's toys hold up.

Slash!

"Kerrk!"

I took the last fleeing hobgoblin's head clean off in a single stroke.

"Hmm."

I flicked the Ink Blade once, casually, and shook the blood off. The goblin shaman had been more fun to fight — more variety in its tactics than these ones.

"You can stop listing that whenever you like. It's Heavenly Demon."

The usual window floated up in the air.

Light wrapped around me, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and my body transferred to another space. Same cramped room with the same crude black chest.

"Tsk."

At this point, couldn't the room décor change already?

I was about to fling the chest open on pure reflex when a thought stopped my hand.

"Ah. Almost forgot this."

Click!

I made sure to photograph the reward chest first.

"Hm?"

Inside the chest: 1 kg of B-class mana stone, and one unidentified badge.

"What is this?"

I'd cleared a higher floor, and the mana stone amount had actually gone down. And what was with this random badge?

This Tower's item descriptions were uniformly useless. Still, it said holding it was good, so I shoved it into my pocket for now.

"Exit…"

I'd finished what I came for, so I was about to leave the Tower when—

"Ah."

My sanity came back earlier than usual today.

"Damn it."

Today's conclusion: Calming Magic was not particularly helpful for me.