Only I Am Human (3)
“Ailin, it doesn't seem good to stay here too long. Let's go.”
“Where to?”
“For now... to my house.”
The protagonist's house, our destination, sat on the village outskirts. Utterly ordinary, just like the home of any run-of-the-mill village boy.
He had no family. That had been the setup from the start, so it didn't really register with me.
If anything, it was a relief. Dealing with NPCs was exhausting enough as it was.
“Ailin, wait here a moment.”
The protagonist stepped away briefly, then returned and set something on the table. An old wooden box.
It looked heavy even at a glance, stirring curiosity about what lay inside.
“I... want to give this to you.”
Opening the box revealed a single dagger.
The handle bore a small emblem, and the blade gleamed razor-sharp, as if lovingly maintained for years.
“What's this?”
“My mother's keepsake. She carried it for self-defense.”
“Why give it to me...?”
“So it's yours now. I can't always be by your side... At least, I hope this protects you.”
I took the dagger and gripped it.
It seemed far more useful than I'd expected.
“Thanks.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. I'll carry it from now on.”
“It suits you.”
“Does it? Good.”
“Yeah. It looks even prettier in your hands. Um... Ailin?”
“What?”
“After this is over... Ah, never mind. Later.”
“...Yeah.”
I burst out laughing.
Mistaking it for delight, the protagonist blushed again.
By afternoon, he walked me home—the village still in chaos.
NPCs clustered in the square, murmuring endlessly.
“Ethan! Wait! Vigilante meeting!”
“Ah, yes! Be right there!”
Someone called out to the protagonist.
Vigilantes... not much of a threat. They'd just patrol at night, at best.
As I brushed it off, he turned to me apologetically.
“Sorry, gotta go. Lock the door, okay?”
“...Yeah.”
“If it ends quick, I'll come back.”
“It's fine, no need.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Bed early tonight.”
“Okay... Got it. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning. Sorry, Ailin. It's all for your sake... so understand?”
I watched his retreating figure as he ran off.
Ethan, huh. The protagonist had a name. Obvious, but it hit differently now.
I rolled it around in my mouth.
Might come in handy later, I thought, locking the door. I stashed the dagger deep in a drawer.
The sun dipped beyond the window, sky turning red.
Curfew hours away, but I planned to prep early.
Pulling out the black cloak brought the familiar metallic tang.
Humans adapt to anything. Yeah, human. Only I am human. Solely I.
An unchanging truth, no matter what. The sole truth in this world of lies.
Night fell once more.
Two moons rose; the village sank into silence.
Vigilantes began their patrols.
Torch-bearing NPCs roamed in threes. Their route was laughably simple: outskirts to central square and back. One loop took about an hour.
Soon, a group headed north. Gap before the next.
I leaped down. Target: bakery back alley.
A lone NPC wandered there—not a vigilante. Young man.
Glancing around, he leaned against the wall with a sigh. Faint booze on the air.
Insomnia? Too scared to sleep?
Didn't matter. Everyone knew better than to wander alone at night.
He didn't notice me sidling up. Just stared into nothing.
Shadows rippled. A thin line sliced his neck.
That was it. Head gone, no scream. Blood pooled.
“...”
Mana ticked up slightly.
As I grow stronger, it'll slow. Got a feel for the principle.
Tossed the corpse in a corner. No need to hide.
Heading back to the rooftops, vigilante presence rippled through the shadows.
“No incidents today. Scared of us?”
“Don't drop your guard.”
“Knights arrive tomorrow. Then it's done.”
Knights tomorrow? Ears perked.
Faster response than expected. Chaos must be bad.
Thought of rewarding their good news, but shook it off. Silently dropping three at once? Too much for now.
Moved on after they passed.
Night still young. Room for one more. Found a suitable NPC soon enough.
“...”
A vigilante off-route.
Pissing in an alley, apparently. Frowned at the unwelcome sight.
“...”
Back home, the girls in the shattered mirror greeted me.
Threw the cloak aside—reeking of blood.
Should wash it sometime, a fleeting thought, soon forgotten.
Lay on the floor, eyes shut.
No dreams. None since possession. Or is this all a dream?
Scary notion. Dismissed it.
Woke earlier than expected.
Killed time as usual; soon, protagonist knocked.
Followed him to the familiar scene.
Villagers around corpses.
But unlike before, the bodies weren't intact.
NPCs retched around the hacked-up meat chunks.
Watching, a question arose. How'll they dispose of that? Just leave it?
No guilt here—I'd straight-up witnessed a guy pissing like an animal.
Who forced him to go anywhere he pleased?
“This ain't human work. Demon! It's a demon!”
The old man's exaggeration grated. I lowered my eyes, feigning blankness.
Expecting emotion from a tragic amnesiac beauty? Tough ask.
Watching the crowd, a buzz rose from the village entrance.
“The knights are here!”
“Really?”
“Really!”
Heads snapped around.
A group approached, kicking up dust.
Man on black horse leading—knight captain? Battle lust surged.
They entered the square; villagers parted.
Fifteen total. All clad in proper knight armor, swords at hips.
The presumed captain dismounted fluidly.
Short black hair, sharp eyes, faint scar above the left brow.
He scanned the area.
“We come by the lord's order.”
Voice not loud, yet it drilled into every ear. The uncanny sensation nearly made me tilt my head.
Mana in the voice? Handy trick. Mentally thanked him for the intel.