Itsuki stared at the system's message with a blank, almost hollow expression. The fear he had barely managed to suppress earlier was crawling back up his spine.
I only killed one… out of fifty-two?
And if I don't kill them all, I get punished?
He exhaled slowly and looked down again at the abbysal's corpse.
If there are actually fifty-one more things like that in here, scattered across this place…
There's no way I'd survive fighting them under these shitty conditions.
He dragged a hand through his hair, eyes fixed on the abbysal's lifeless skin.
Not to mention, I didn't kill it because I was stronger—I just got lucky.
Its attacks were slower than they should've been, Which means it must've underestimated me and held back from the start.
Maybe because I wasn't wearing armor?
If that's even slightly true then it must have some sort of intelligence.
He clenched his fists.
And if that's true, then fighting fifty-one more of its kind is nothing short of suicide.
He slowly crouched again, placing his fingers on its skin, feeling the faint heat still lingering there.
Why are monsters this dangerous even out here… at this part of the cavern?
It doesn't make sense.
Especially since that armored unit must've come through first to clear things like this out.
Then, another thought—more colder and presumptious—followed.
Unless this was intentional.
But why…?
His mind flashed back to the man he assumed was the leader of the armored unit—
To what gain…?
The worst that could happen is all fifty two of them managed to make it to where the workers where and it would've been a massacre...
But why kill innocent people?..
Itsuki rose slowly, letting out a tired breath as he stared up at the system's window still floating before him.
There are too many unknowns.
Too many ways this could be some sort of setup.
"Guess you'll have to do your worst, True Light."
He bent down and picked up the long shard the demon had nearly stabbed him with.
To carve crystal to a blade this sharp…
A full retreat is definitely the best option.
He tightened his grip on the shard. His jaw tensed and his breath hitched for a moment.
Then—without giving himself a chance to hesitate—
He lifted the crystal.
And drove it straight into his own arm.
****
Outside the rift, the workers who had already come out were scattered across the wide interior of the warehouse. Some sat slumped in corners, sweat still drying on their skin; others huddled in tight groups, murmuring over shared frustrations. Farther off, a few ate whatever scraps they could afford, tearing quietly into stale bread or soup wrapped in crumpled paper bags and plates.
Beyond the warehouse, the sun had fully risen—
its harsh, white-gold rays flooding through the enormous open entrance. The light spilled across the dusty floorboards, stretching long shapes across the walls and illuminating the shifting haze of dirt suspended in the air. Outside, the street was alive in its usual chaos:
Merchants shouting their prices, vendors waving cloth fans at their stalls, horses pulling heavy carts that creaked under the load they carried, and cars rattling over the cobblestone roads—each tire strike sending a sharp clatter echoing through the narrow alleys of the district.
In the middle of all this bustle, Dupont and Adrien's friend sat side by side with their backs pressed against the warehouse's wooden wall. Their legs were sprawled out before them, and beside them lay flattened, wrinkled paper bags from the food they had finished moments ago.
"Do you think he's actually okay?"
Dupont asked, her voice low, her question directed at the lanky man beside her—someone who chose his words like a revolver chose bullets, careful of each shot.
"A little," he murmured. "But the best thing we can do for him right now is give him some space. He's probably working this hard for his family… maybe even for us, so we won't worry about him so much. No need to force ourselves in until he's ready to open up."
As his last word left his mouth, both of them instinctively turned toward the rift.
A figure stumbled out—then collapsed.
Blood dripped steadily from his arm as he fell face-first onto the floor, wheezing.
"…Adrien?"
Dupont shot to her feet instantly, Adrien's friend right behind her as they rushed toward him. Around them, workers began to rise in ones and twos, forming a tightening circle.
"What the fuck happened to you?" Dupont barked as she pressed both hands over the wound in his arm.
Adrien's friend yanked off his shirt and wrapped it tightly around the bleeding flesh.
Itsuki blinked slowly, breath trembling before he forced himself to speak.
"There… was an abyssal in there," he wheezed. "It attacked me while I was working. I managed to kill it, but… this is what I got in return."
Murmurs rippled through the gathering crowd.
"An abbysal…?"
"I thought the Awakeners were supposed to handle those…"
" What the hell is happening in there?"
The supervisor shoved through the commotion, crouching beside Itsuki. He glanced at Dupont.
"Is he okay?"
She nodded, though worry still clouded her face. "Yes. Seems like this is the only wound."
The supervisor released a breath of relief, rose to his feet, and addressed the room.
"Work's done for today. If there are actually abbysals still inside, then you all know we can't keep sending people in. Safety comes first. Make a line—I'll hand out today's pay."
He walked toward the corner of the warehouse. The crowd gradually dispersed, following him.
Adrien's friend adjusted Itsuki against his back, lifting him upright.
"You idiot… we leave you alone for a couple minutes and this happens. You got some sort of deathwish?"
Itsuki managed a weak chuckle, exhaling. His eyes drifted to Dupont—she looked far more worried than she was trying to seem, still keeping pressure on his arm.
Perfect. It all worked out. Now I just have to cross my fingers for whatever punishment the system decides to give me…
"Can you walk?" Adrien's friend asked.
"I think so. It's a bit of a hassle though. The demon really got me all over." Itsuki shifted, managing to sit up on his own.
"You two should go collect your pay—and help me get mine. I'll be fine. The bleeding's stopped anyway."
"There you go again, idiot," Dupont snapped, hooking his arm over her shoulder as Adrien's friend crouched to lift him by the waist.
"We're getting you to a hospital first. Money can wait."
Together, they hoisted him up, supporting him as they slowly made their way toward the warehouse exit.
A faint smirk tugged at Itsuki's lips—too small for either of them to notice.
At that moment, a familiar chime resonated in his mind as the system's dashboard popped up.
[System Notice — Objective Failed]
[Punishment commencing in 3, 2, 1....]