"Ugh, seriously?! Why do you always have to screw everything up?!" a frustrated voice growled, sounding almost hateful.


    The blast has split us into two groups, me with the red demon and the brat with the black one. It was the worst development imaginable. Without wasting a moment, I was on my feet, ready to rush over to Kiddo.


    "Can''t you even protect a little rat?!" he continued, directing his frustration at me.


    "I don''t know anything about you, yet you''re already getting under my skin, red devil."


    "And I know everything about you, yet you still fail to impress me, you rusty tin can. Why are you even bothering with that pinkie?"


    "I would like to debate whether it is a human instinct to protect."


    "So, should I kick things off by asking: Is it related to the ''Death of Lazarus''?..."


    —————————


    The shrill of my hand intercepting the metal knuckle filled the air, marking the end of the debate with a single question.


    "Don''t tell me now you hate debates too?"


    "Who are you all? What the hell are you doing here?"


    "No, what the hell are you doing here?!" I grunted as I pushed him away.


    Repositioning myself by taking a step back, I glanced at the troublemaker, who was panting in sheer terror. He was so frightened that even the thought of bawling or bellowing was a luxury for him.


    "Looks like the kid needs help. So I will be brief," I uttered as I turned back to the man whose eyes were fixed on the boy crawling backwards from the imposing devil.


    Raising my index fingers to eye level, "The right is the world you think you are in, and the left is the world we, the demons(?), are in. Two separate instances that were never meant to collide, nor to exist at the same time," I explained to the worried man.


    Bringing the right finger close to the base of the left, "I don''t know what kind of Goldilocks Zone magic you have done, but you''ve both been unceremoniously pulled into our realm," I said, driving the right finger into the left as it gushed out a steady stream of red fluid.


    I swiftly pulled back the finger and extended four others, "And as if that is not enough, you not only brought us here but practically dragged us into this mess!" I shouted as I proceeded to stab my hand repeatedly.


    The man strode past me, dismissing my explanation with a crude comment.


    "You sure sound like a heretic of abuse, despite looking like someone who''s been drinking mother''s milk for the last 20 years..."


    The arrogant man halted abruptly as he felt a tug, and looked behind him to find the furious red devil, steaming from his forehead, gripping his veil tightly.


    "Then let me show you what a heretic to my beliefs truly looks like."


    I yanked him back with enough force to make him stumble. However, he was quick enough to use the momentum to launch a kick at my face, which I caught with my other hand before hurling him away from the brat.


    I would be lying if I said the last thread snapped again. Because I feel like I am being introduced to a new me, a me that really wants to go against my ideals.


    "You swine of the mammoths! What are you still waiting for?! Weren''t you eager to hug him, even if you had to use that?!"


    "Huh... I don'' really get it, but I will giv'' it a try''!"


    "Let''s give the audience what they came for."


    The metal armor ran quickly at the sight of me unsheathing the blade. But before he could react, I sprang forward, using my scabbard to deflect his hand while bringing my face dangerously close to his.


    I quickly repositioned my sword ready for a stab, and the criminal too swung his broadsword and gripped it tight by the hilt.


    【Lifeline Codex】【Lifeline Codex】


    Just as he braced himself for an attack, confusion washed over his face when he noticed the blade impaling my head instead. And as for the other one, when the vibrations of his sketched skin passed through the broadsword, rust began to flake off, and soon he drove it into his skull, starting from the jaw.


    【: Base Limited】【: Base Limited】


    As my eyes fell from their sockets, blood trickled down onto the man''s face and slowly flowed into his mouth. And the black devil''s black blood rained down, staining the grieving child who still refuses to let the horror within him out.


    The katana I plunged into my head began to change into deep shades of red and black, dripping over me like shaved ice on a sweltering summer afternoon. Meanwhile, the threatening demon did a 180 on his grip on the almost full rusted broadsword, twisting it with such force that it cleaved him in two before completely oxidizing.


    The frightened man quickly gained distance and tried to lunge at the child again, but a hand so dark—so dark that it won''t even let a ray of light escape—grabs and pulls him back to where he was.


    His eyes reflected a figure half black and half red, "Thank you for turning me into something I didn''t expect, and in return, I''ll show you that you can''t protect anyone this time either..." and as soon as the small talk was over, his focus shifted completely to me.


    Before him stood a demon of 6.1 feet, no, it might now be closer to 6.10 feet. This bald demon, that is I, was wearing nothing but a loincloth. The eyes had been replaced by long, thick, and menacing horns, and the only attraction was the hem of the loincloth at the waist, which precisely shows the dividend of the only two colors I''m clad in; with the torso being pitch black and the rest being vibrant red.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    【紅札相察腰】(Benifudasousakkoshi)


    Unlike me, the one in front of the brat was still the same demon, at least on the surface. To the victim, however, it might seem as if the new variant colors were quivering alongside the pencil sketches, making it to be perceived more menacing.


    【Perdant De La Porte Divisée】


    "You''ve been acting like someone who is so much closer to me. Even closer than the nosy neighbors."


    He said, tugging at the troublesome cloth while keeping a close eye on me, ready to slip away if I dropped my guard. Yet, a deeper worry flickered in his gaze as he noticed the left crimson fist below my waist, gradually extending a sharp red spike from the dorsal plane of the hand.


    He didn''t remark anything, even after looking at the dark side of my appearance which was so devoid of detail that it could only be considered a shadow—a marvelous sight that could spark a conversation.


    But his murmurs about the situation and my body behavior made it clear that he grasped what was happening.


    "Don''t assume that all explanations come easily. You have some idea of why this is happening. So I''ll let your imagination run wild."


    "Those words..."


    "But as a bonus, let me clarify... Yes, this is the appearance of–"


    My head whipped around with violent twists and froze in an instant. The head looked at itself in bewilderment, asking, "我は...ここはどこじゃ？" (I... Where am I?)


    I punctured the head and extracted the fragments of the corrupted brain.


    "Man... Your world certainly has some annoying conditions. Just remembering his name caused a casualty. As a freak fanatic you are, you already know what I''m–"


    "Tadakura no Hidesato. The bottom feeder."


    Continuing his vain attempts, the man tried to blind me—an entity without eyes—with his cloth, but still ended up in the clutches of my dark fist. Did he really believe that an abrupt response would give him a chance?


    "Abwa...wa..."


    Huh? My jaw?


    This man, he isn''t quite as mediocre as I made him out to be. In a split second, did he deliberately force me to stretch out my hand, only to seize it and wrench it away with sheer force, while delivering a powerful kick that left my jaw hanging?!


    So, it wasn''t me who had him in my grasp... it was the other way around.


    Giving him the souvenir he wished for, I distanced myself from him. In an attempt to recover from the damage, I used my other hand to reattach the dangling jaw.


    "I will assume that you hated my words for you to gift me this unnecessary damage."


    "My bad. My intention was to tear off the head, but my foot slipped."


    After seeing my abnormal recovery rate, he threw the limb back and continued.


    "I can''t be more careful. You bear the figure of the one whose name has reached these far lands."


    "Yet they titled him according to his social status. Tch, ugly world..."


    He began to walk with the idea of changing positions, while his eyes locked onto mine, clearly intent on crushing me as he pressed on with his questions about his concerns.


    "Wh–"


    "Why am I doing this?


    Let''s just say I''m one of the hurdles in your race called life.


    A minor obstacle in your early 30s that you need to leap over.


    A shadow from your past that never quite fades away.


    Trying to remind you of how bleak and pointless it all feels."


    "No, I don''t care if you want to sacrifice yourself for my glory. Just tell me what''s happening over there," he inquired, pointing to the child.


    I didn''t even turn around because of these blessed heightened senses. There, even if neither is moving, it is a scene of cruelty, because what is happening may not be physically demanding, but mentally.


    The child didn''t even get up and is still staring at the towering demon, no, to be accurate he''s staring at himself... his past, his worries, his fears, his world as a whole new nightmare.


    Perdant De La Porte Divisée; a blessing with which the user forces his opponents to look at their world in a frightening way. Showing them every nook and cranny, turning them into his victims as he opens up every unnamed door.


    Simply talking about it is making me nauseous and fills me with disgust. I can hardly fathom what that child must be going through.


    ——————————?


    Just as we effortlessly accept the fact that the number ''0'' is called zero.


    Just as we effortlessly ignore its different names in other languages.


    The child standing in the bustling marketplace, far from his hometown, accepted the scene before him without question, and ignored the reason for his presence there.


    The scorching heat failed to deter him.


    The quirky, roofless, picturesque shops didn''t faze him.


    The strange accents around didn''t intimidate him.


    Despite the brutal din of various sounds, despite the situation that portrays the scenery as a maze, it seemed to radiate as nothing more than a sense of adventure to the lost child.


    Even in the midst of clamor, a sound almost like the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze caught his attention, prompting him to run through the hanging, newly dried stag hides before tumbling forward, his nose nearly touching the inexpensive leather sandals.


    "Hello there, dear lost son..."


    The child lifts his head slowly, with a troubled face, as he pushes himself up from the ground. He pays no mind to the man burdened by a load of items on his shoulder and hanging from his grasp. Instead, the child inspects his dirty clothes, brushes off the dust, and then glances back at the man.


    "Oh, Dad. Never thought I would see you here. How''s life?"


    The sharp gaze of the man, drenched in sweat and his muscles throbbing, made the anxious child take a defensive stance and swallow nervously.


    The man took a deep breath and muttered, "Thank Teressa, nothing bad happened," as he let out a sigh of relief.