I Want to Die, But I Am Immortal-Chapter 67: Friends 2

He was aware that someone was observing him. He was aware that a group of information brokers called The Byrd was following him everywhere.

This train ride would be known to them. They would be aware of his friends. He needed to give the impression that he was not with them.

Then a desperate appear of hope started in his mind. He was carrying a phone. The phone he was given by the system. The one he would forgotten and brushed aside. He shut his eyes. In the hopes that his idea would succeed, he silently prayed into space. Let this be it, please.

With a mental command, he opened his system window, revealing a translucent blue screen that was visible only to him. He called up his inventory.

In his hand, the button phone materialized. He shielded his actions from any onlookers by keeping his hand inside his school bag.

Under his fingertips, he could feel the phone’s cheap material. It was an old-fashioned keypad device.

He located the app. Just as it had been on the assassin’s phone, it was present. A small icon of a black bird. His heart thumped in his chest. This was the crucial moment.

He opened it by pressing the button. He anticipated seeing the password screen once more. However, the message was different this time.

Kindly create a password.

He felt a rush of relief so strong it nearly made him light headed. It was this. He got in this way. He quickly entered a random string of letters and numbers as a password. The application launched.

He was in. There were numerous options on the screen. A menu of knowledge that is prohibited. However, the one at the very bottom caught his attention. Just one word.

forum.

He gave it a click. The screen was updated. Adam’s world also shook on its axis. His eyes went wide with surprise. It was a real-time feed with an endless flow of information in the form of text and images. And he was the main focus.

A photo of his school caught his eye. The caption read, "This is where he is." His home’s address was displayed for everyone to see. As a voyeur in his own life, he looked through the messages. He saw his name, age, and academic schedule. They were fully aware of him.

Then he saw her name. Sophia. There was also her name. They had her photo, address, and family information. He felt an unease creep into his bones. Sweat trickled down his temple like a bead.

This was incorrect. It was a nightmare. They had it all. They had stripped him without clothes, revealing all of his flaws and vulnerabilities.

Something caught his attention. Information about what was going on inside the school was not being posted. They refused to cross what seemed to be an unwritten rule. It supported his theory. The school was a neutral, safe place. However, he became a target as soon as he left those gates.

With each new post, his heart sank as he continued to scroll. He was a boy. One seventeen-year-old child.

Additionally, he faced a whole organization—a worldwide network of spies and hunters—who were committed to destroying him. How was he going to win? How could he keep Sophia safe? When his adversaries were everywhere and were fully aware of him, how could he defend anyone?

He was filled with a deep sense of despair. He was the only one surpassing and outmanoeuvred. He had no resources, no allies, and no one to turn to. He was a solitary combatant engaged in combat with an unseen army.

His predicament weighed heavily on him. The forum served as a window into his adversary’s thoughts, and what he saw there horrifyingly mirrored his own helplessness.

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Adam’s eyes moved frantically in a dance of understanding and fear across the phone’s screen. On the forum, he noticed another new message.

In a sea of hunters, it came from a different user with an anonymous name. At the train station, a target was observed. A few minutes ago, the message was time-stamped.

Adam was suddenly aware that the updates were not yet live. A delay occurred. A minor one, but still a delay. It was a flaw, a chink in their armor of apparent omniscience.

However, the subsequent post destroyed his brief moment of strategic analysis. It was an image. An image of him sitting on the train with his cap’s shadow partially hiding his face.

From a few rows away, the image was incredibly clear. His ribs were pounded by his heart. They were watching him now. He had an enemy on this very train.

He examined the photograph’s angle. He determined the lens’s trajectory. His movements were barely noticeable as he slowly raised his head.

He did not want the photographer to know. He looked around the train car. Then he caught sight of him. A man was standing close to the door.

He was a completely unknown figure, dressed in the mundane uniform of an office worker. His thumb was hovering over the phone’s screen as he held it up. It was him. The spy was him.

Adam’s thoughts were racing. He needed to neutralize him. He could not let an army of murderers hear every action he took. However, another message surfaced on the forum before he could come up with a strategy.

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We are so grateful to each and every one of you for joining the adventure! Your assistance is greatly appreciated. I appreciate each and every one of your Power Stones, which are like mana potions that keep me writing if you are enjoying the story.

Let us have some fun now! I want YOU in this world. The new signature technique is about to be named by our hero. What ought it to be called?

Leave your most inventive suggestions in the comments section! I will choose my favorite, and it will be included in the story’s canon with a special mention for you.

I am eager to read your insightful recommendations!

Alphaboss

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