Demon Hunter (Teramachi Akeho) - Chapter 47

The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else.

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me.

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death.

My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

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“The Second Cult Leader and the Prophet of the Voodooists died during the Holy War seven years ago.”

Florence Academy was a prestigious clergy academy.

“Now that the Voodooists are considered as a cult, who is the Third Cult Leader, where are they now, and what are they up to?”

Only I knew the answer to this question.

The Third Cult Leader was a freshman at Florence Academy. He was here, standing amongst the others in the auditorium.

How do I know this, you ask?

Because I’m the Cult Leader.

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In a romance novel called “The Secret Lovers of the Academy” the male lead would often torment his fiancée–but wait, why did she cross into this world to become his fiancée, the villainess, instead of the heroine?

When Yohan woke up in the morning, he had a beauty in his lap and in his bedroom. It was like a dream come true for him until reality struck him.

It was then he remembered that he had been cursed by a goddess in the game he had been playing before sleeping. In his sleep-deprived state, he had offended the goddess and as a result, he had been cursed to become a 'no-good' man who could only provide 'support' to the 'heroines' of this world.

Thinking nothing of that curse beforehand, Yohan went to sleep, only to find his world-changing from that day onwards. His normal and mundane life was no longer going to be as such as more and more fantasy creatures began to show up.

And a female voice awoke him with a notification

*Ding dong ding.

Congrats on unlocking the fiction system. From here on, the user will experience the full scope of the logic of the fiction world. May the user use his PP and conquer everyone.*

And it was then Yohan realized - he was no longer in a world governed by science but one that followed the laws of magic. And the only way to survive was to utilize these so-called 'laws of fiction' to his advantage.

And the best and worst part of it all? The more he let his desire go, the stronger he became.