"Don't leave, I haven't finished talking."
Allen had been about to proudly reveal Silent Hill's secrets, but Bruce and Oliver had clearly assumed he was having another episode. They chatted as they walked toward the town, completely ignoring him.
"I'm proficient in twenty-three forms of close-quarters combat."
Bruce raised a hand, indicating Sharp Sword and the Wrist Blade Armor on his wrist.
"Impressive!"
Oliver said without the slightest modesty, "I specialize in archery. The range of my arrows is limited by the bow, not by my skill. I'm no weaker in close combat either."
"Much honored, much honored."
Allen caught up and chimed in, "Since everyone is being honest, I won't hide it either. I'm a transmigrator with a system template."
"..."
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm...
Say you're an alien and we'd believe you.
"I'll take the lead. You handle long-range support," Bruce suggested.
"No problem."
As the two talked, they showed no intention of including Allen. They only hoped he would not cause trouble when the time came.
Batman and Green Arrow were both heroes with tragic backstories. It was difficult for them to be cheerful and optimistic by nature, so they mostly chose to ignore Allen.
They walked through the deserted town.
"Was the intelligence wrong?"
Bruce could not help growing suspicious.
The buildings lining the streets had shattered windows and aged walls. One look was enough to tell they had been abandoned for many years.
How were they supposed to find the evil cult with no one around, much less retrieve The Blade of Redemption?
"Looks like we came here for nothing," Oliver agreed.
"Don't you really want to know Silent Hill's secrets?"
Allen deliberately quickened his pace and walked ahead of them, wearing an expression that said, Beg me, and I'll tell you.
"I don't."
Bruce refused without hesitation.
He had no desire to let a lunatic lead the conversation.
"Since you're asking so sincerely, I'll reluctantly tell you."
Allen cleared his throat, wearing an exceedingly solemn expression.
Actually, if he did not say it soon, Allen was going to explode from holding it in.
Suddenly, gray fog quietly rose around them, and ash like snowflakes slowly drifted down from the sky.
The sudden change made Bruce and Oliver stop, their eyes warily scanning the surroundings.
"Holy shit, could you wait until I finished talking before the Manifest World descended?"
Allen folded his arms across his chest in displeasure and grumbled, "We were in the real world just now. Now we're in the Manifest World. Once the Inner World descends, Silent Hill will be full of monsters and demons."
The buildings, which had merely looked old before, now appeared dilapidated and decrepit.
Clearly, this was no longer the original world.
The two of them could not help taking Allen's words seriously.
"Allen, could you explain in detail?" Oliver pressed.
"Beg me."
Allen proudly tilted his head up at a forty-five-degree angle and muttered, "You ignored me earlier. Now I'm beyond your reach."
"There's a monster!"
Bruce abruptly drew his sword and watched the road ahead warily.
At some point, a humanoid monster had appeared, its arms wrapped in skin as it twisted its way toward them.
"Don't be afraid. It's a Mannequin."
Allen looked the monster up and down and explained, "A Mannequin was a man who could never win a woman's favor in life. Over time, his mind twisted and he became a monster. He's full of hostility toward women, and the hole in his chest sprays black corrosive fluid. But don't worry, he definitely won't spray men."
Pfft...
The slap in the face came without warning.
The moment he finished speaking, the Mannequin sprayed black fluid at them.
All three nimbly dodged. One glance at the black liquid on the ground showed it was indeed corroding the pavement and releasing white smoke.
"Shit, this guy saw my beauty and had a physical reaction."
Allen flashed to the Mannequin's side, raised a leg, and kicked it repeatedly as he cursed, "I'll make you spray! I'll make you shoot! I'll make you react..."
The poor Mannequin lay face down. Every time it tried to roll over and counterattack, it was met with another savage kick.
"Should we lend him a hand?"
"Forget it. Let him enjoy himself."
They even suspected Allen was too worked up and might not spare them either.
After venting all his anger, he finished the monster with one sword strike.
Mannequin killed. Experience Points +200
Allen did not forget to warn the corpse, "Remember to show me some respect in your next life."
The monsters in Silent Hill were not particularly strong. Their main advantage was sheer numbers.
The Mannequins that could move around in the Manifest World had been killed by a policewoman's handgun in the movie. To Allen, the Inner World was an Experience Points dungeon.
"Allen, tell us about Silent Hill."
"Sure thing, Batsy."
Allen pushed up nonexistent glasses on the bridge of his nose and said seriously, "Silent Hill originated during the era of westward expansion. It was a town founded because of coal mines..."
"Can you make it shorter?" Bruce interrupted.
Knowing Allen's nature, there was an eighty percent chance he was about to recount half of America's founding history.
In an unfamiliar and dangerous environment, every extra second they stayed increased the danger.
"Damn, you're impatient."
Allen rolled his eyes and continued, "There was a female fan of the Fallen Angel Samael in Silent Hill. She had been obsessed with him since childhood, followed him all the way into old age, and even worked part-time as the president of his fan club. Then she found out her younger sister had given birth to her idol's child.
At the time, she was jealous beyond belief.
You scumbag. I called you big brother every night, day after day, decade after decade. I went from a young girl to an old woman, and you never even touched one finger of mine. I thought you were a decent man with pure thoughts.
Then you turned around and screwed my little sister, and even produced a bastard child.
She couldn't swallow that insult.
The old woman decided to kill her idol's child. She gathered some people, tied the little bastard to a rack, and barbecued her.
They had been about to brush her with oil, sprinkle cumin on her, and roast her for another hour until she was crispy outside and tender inside. Of course, if nothing went wrong, something had to go wrong. A group barged in halfway through, ruined the barbecue party, and took away the half-cooked little girl.
The medium-rare little girl was rescued, and as she lay in bed, the more she thought about it, the angrier she became.
What did the love-hate drama between you adults have to do with bullying a little kid like me? If you've got the guts, barbecue my dad, the Fallen Angel Samael.
Then she got depressed.
She thought, I'm a demigod no matter what. If I let an old woman dripping sour juice barbecue me, where would I put my pride?
If she did not avenge this grudge, she would lose face.
The more she thought about it, the angrier and more depressed she got. She successfully opened up her energy channels and awakened divine power.
Her power enveloped all of Silent Hill, transforming it into the Manifest World and the Inner World, trapping everyone who had bullied her inside.
Maybe the skill had a cooldown. The two worlds kept switching back and forth.
The Manifest World was relatively safe. Samael's fans came out to look for supplies, but whenever the Inner World descended, they immediately fled back to the church.
Over the years, the fan club president and her fans had tried to kill the little brat and end the nightmare.
Apparently, they had never succeeded."
Bruce and Oliver both fell silent.
It felt like they understood, yet they also did not quite understand.
Allen's ability to explain things was simply too abstract.
Inside the bathroom of a motel room.
An old television sat upside down on the toilet.
Suddenly, the screen lit up, accompanied by the crackle of electricity.
Thud!
The next moment, something seemed to fall out.
It was Sadako, who had come to claim lives. She kicked free from the television's restraints, braced both hands against the edge of the toilet, and slowly raised her soaking-wet head.
A large patch of yellowish feces was clearly visible on top of her head.
Her loose hair hid her face, making her emotions impossible to read. Yet strands of yin energy, like tangible flames of fury, showed that she was in a state of raging anger.
Damn it, she hated people who did not flush the toilet most of all.
Before you continue