He fell face up, looking at a silhouette as his face was shadowed by the same figure. His worries disappeared and his mind was renewed.


    "Oh, Dad! Never thought--"


    "What''s the matter with you?... Why can''t you behave?"


    His father''s intolerant remark took the child by surprise. He tried to get to his feet as his father left him behind, but another hand caught him roughly by the shoulder.


    Ignoring the child''s feeble "Ouch", "How hard is it to listen to your elders? Huh?" Dan uttered in a low but irritated tone as he pushed him away.


    Hitting his back to the wall, the child plopped down and stared at an empty plate.


    "Is it fun to hear the sound of us wailing?" she asks in a stern tone, her voice tinged with apathy.


    The child was about to raise a question in a low voice, but was forced to remain silent at the sight of displeasure on his mother''s face.


    "Who do you like more?" she continued, "I like my husband more. So you better not be a nuisance to him too..."


    "I''m not doing it because I want to..." the child spoke in a fragile tone.


    "Do you mean to tell me that you''re doing this to make me remember how pathetic I am?!" Glenn inquired with a serious expression.


    Perplexed, the child quickly turned to the old man, but was again forced into silence.


    "Are you bragging that you are alive and my son is dead? Are you implying that you are better than him?...... You are not my son... Go... go away! Right now!"


    The anxious child withdrew slowly as he saw the old man about to throw the bread at him.


    But the stone aimed at his head veered off course, striking the child''s hand instead as he stood helplessly with his back to the wall. Disregarding the cries of pain, the boy with the bobbed haircut seized the child, who was nearly his age, by the hair and savagely drove his head back against the wall.


    "How many times do I have to smash your head before you understand ''Stay away from Jerome''?" he pressed on, battering the child''s head, "Do you really think we need your sympathy?! Always flaunting your mother''s cooking! Always feeling superior because you have parents! Is that it?! Huuuh?!"


    The resentful boy tightened his grip on the hair and yanked it with such force that it sent the child tumbling to the ground.


    Gradually, the child dragged himself to a haphazard corner as his weak legs refused to support him... or perhaps due to his shattered kneecap and protruding shinbone.


    Once again, his entire being seemed to be urging him to recall the agony, but a flutter of a modest—far from extravagant—cloth captured his attention, as if the world had cast a spotlight on the spoiled, solid black mantle cape.


    The figure of a person confronting the bizarre creatures racing toward him went unnoticed, but regretfully, his words did not.


    "Yes, just sit there and cry. Nothing you do will bring change."


    As the rampaging creatures engulfed the mysterious figure, the heinous devil bent down from behind the child, and muttered, "Tch, tch... More... a little more..."


    The impatient demon raked up the child, forcing him to stand upright as it shoved him through the hanging dried stag hides.


    Standing in the scorching heat, the last thing he needed were his father''s lethargic remarks, which dismissed a child''s natural curiosity and impulsiveness.


    "It must be nice for you to be so carefree. My life is hard enough, and you... Tch"


    Bound tight with a bristly rope and on the verge of being tossed into the well, his ineffable soul was wounded by his relative''s strict words, which ignored the child''s earnest effort.


    "I don''t expect anything from you, other than to act as you''ve been taught! Right?!"


    Standing at the partially opened door, blocking the intruding sunlight, he bit his lower lips, unable to find the motherly love he desperately sought.


    "If only I knew you were going to be like this, I wouldn''t have bothered having you..."


    Soiled by the dirt from his fall, he steadied himself, ready to flee, unable to confront the old man''s words, which he had deliberately evaded all this time.


    "You took away my son! You! He was such a brilliant young man! Give him back!"


    Standing in front of the towering wall, he felt so little, even with his head high, seeking solace from his only now-silent friend as others relentlessly pushed him back.


    "You know... Our lives would be so much better without you..."


    That was the only thing echoing in his mind.


    Even though the person in front of him has been replaced, the words reverberated the same. Even as he stumbled back from the hanging hides, as he fell into the well, as the door shut on his face, as he landed on the gnarl of filthy roots, as he got beaten down...


    ...and as he plummeted into the abyss, his teary eyes watching them, not even extending a helping hand. Ultimately, crashing into the cupped hands of the devil, as he lay there staring at the broken roof that shone no light.


    Yet, the child did not let a single tear fall.


    It is true that all this time the child was burdened with ugly realities, but they were merely an imitation of self-doubt. But the projection of the child''s mind, lying in the palms of the devil, truly has yet to shed a tear.


    Perdant De La Porte Divisée; a blessing that allows the user to pry open the doors of the mind construct... However, it is mostly limited to that. Even if he can arrange the doors to his liking, they are not the truth, nor will they become the truth.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The perverted devil knew of this, yet he believed that in itself would be enough to break a child''s peace...... Disregarding the doors that he thought were of no value... the doors that taught the child the values.


    The ignorant demon clasped his palms, letting the harsh realities flow again.


    ——————————


    But the scary part is that even if this brat clings to life, his sanity is already a lost cause. Ew, did that just send chills down my spine?


    "I''m only adding this because I really want your full focus here."


    With a hand counting the points, I slowly start to move towards the severed hand.


    "One, they can''t move when he activates his power, so the child won''t be physically harmed. Two, any external force can easily break their trance, so I better hurry to enjoy the result. Three, take responsibility for what you have done to me."


    "......"


    Stopping at the souvenir he refused, "And four, I would like to make a throne out of your living corpse to sit on and watch the kid go crazy."


    "You really have bad hobbies–" he voice stopped at the sight of a hand flying towards him. Simply deflecting it with a casual flick of his wrist, he prepared to counter the demon charging at him with a black spike.


    "The mouth works from a dead man are no pleasure to me," I jumped, readying the black spike to stake.


    Yet again, with a mere redirection of my hand, he plunged the spike into my chest, causing an obscure black blood to seep out. As my red legs strained to push the immovable man away, he incessantly pressed the stake deeper, taunting, "You are the one mimicking a dead man, you pervert..."


    "Yeah..." leaning my left shoulder back, "But too bad for you this dead man is immortal!" I exclaimed, ensnaring him in my legs as the spinning hand reattached itself.


    With giving him no time to think, I protruded the red spike to stab him from behind. Yet, with his stubborn defense, he put down his right arm to intercept the strike. However...


    "Forgetting something?" his pupil dilated as my comment showed him what he had overlooked.


    Repositioning his arm and slamming me hard into the ground simultaneously, he made the rubbery hand to arch awkwardly above his head, causing the spike to drive into the ground due to the sudden shift in momentum.


    With my grip loosened on him for a second, he quickly created distance between us.


    Slowly rising to my feet, I pulled my hand out of my chest while the other hung limply below my waist. Despite my failed attempts, my shadowy face definitely had a satisfied grin on it.


    "Come on, give me a challenge. You''re making the moths drawn to the flame look like a high priest," I said, gradually retracting the spike.


    "Yes, father, but there are just too many conditions around that loincloth!" he exclaimed, stretching his right hand to the side.


    "You better work your brain rather than working on conjuring your weapon out of thin air."


    "It was worth a try. And as for you, a spike sticking out above the waist is black and fragile, while one below the waist is red and sturdy because the bone has broken through and turned into a spike! And that''s just the beginning! Ahhhh!!!"


    "And do you know why I chose this blessing?"


    "Because the name sounds as indecent as you?"


    -The partial translation of BENIfudasousakKOSHI is likely something red below waist-


    "Because it can put the man titled ''Domovoy'' to shame," I nonchalantly flicked a black spike at his chest, which he failed to catch, leaving a black stain on his breastplate.


    However, it wasn''t my intention to harm him, and he too understood it, evident in his dissatisfied face.


    "So the black spike turns into paint when you release it?"


    "Ohh... Looks like you have resolved yourself firmly. Not even flinching at the mention of that guilty title..."


    "And what''s the deal with the red spike? I''ve always heard a different story."


    Seems like a little explanation is in order.


    "Firstly, the whole interpretation is a bit off," stretching one of my hands out, "The spikes are not black and red. Everything about me above my waist appears black, while everything below appears red."


    "Secondly, once I extend a spike, I can''t shift it to a different color zone," gently lowering the black spike below my waist, "Else it disappears," which vanished like a shadow in the changing light.


    "Thirdly, once they''re released, they are not spikes anymore. They become [札(fuda)]—labels or tags. As you''ve seen, the black tag can''t harm you, and the red tag will make you wish that it should have never reached you!"


    【相】(Sou)


    Startled, the piece of iron stepped back instinctively. It was probably, no, it was obviously due to his perception of the world being altered.


    This blessing gives the user heightened senses, but robs them of their sight, or rather, everything they see is in varying shades of red with minimal detail. Paired with limited movement due to the nature of the spikes. Tch, tch.


    Some kind of fairy power with so many down sides, but one more chance to feel fair was this and different perks to the tags.


    "So, Domovoy. How''s the world looking? Or how''s half of the world looking?"


    "A trick that makes me perceive anything below your waist as a shadow—pitch black. Just the thought of moving my legs is unsettling, even though I can feel my legs, but it''s still creepy."


    "Slightly different for me. I''m blind to the world above my waist, and anything below it is a various shades of red."


    "Having information and actually experiencing it is totally different! Incredible..."


    "Just like sex, right? Ew, man! Ew! You are such a bad influence! Since when am I talking like this?"


    Indeed, as mentioned, he perceives the world half black. Like a man half submerged in the calm black lake.


    The black plane—the flat expanse of the black water—is perpendicular to the direction of gravity.


    So even with my unusual moments, the part of the loincloth farthest from the ground serves as the base of this black plane.


    And, of course, my world feels like being in the center of a street at midnight, illuminated solely by the red lights that shine beneath my waist.


    The man''s eyes were shut tight, lost in the direness of the situation as he pinched his chin thoughtfully.


    With a casual roll of his eyes, he asked, "You do know I can fight blind, right?"


    "This is not the world of [Karma] you know of, right?" I shot back wryly.


    He stepped closer, probably with a smirk on his face, "Thought so," he muttered, just before his legs disappeared with a soft whoosh.


    Sh*t! He noticed!


    At once, I extended the red spikes and crossed them overhead. But the thought pattern of my defense was neatly read, and his vanished legs suddenly appeared perilously close to me.


    And before the curses could escape my lips, a brutal strike to my plexus sent me hurtling backward, rolling before I crumpled to the ground.