Cannon Fodder NPCs Don't Have Split Personalities

Rainy night.

Thunder and lightning.

The wooden hut in the darkness was like a small boat in the storm, now on the verge of collapse.

The gale cut through the gaps, sweeping across the pitch-black interior, bitingly cold, while rainwater dripped and spread along the old beams inside the house, growing fiercer by the moment.

On the straw mat bed in the wooden hut's bedroom, amid the clamor of the rain, if one listened closely, there was a faint sound of shivering.

"Big sis... I'm... cold."

Two children, one older and one younger, whose combined ages might not even reach double digits, were huddled tightly together, curled up in a corner of the bed.

That was the only spot where the rain didn't leak through.

Yet despite that, the blanket covering them grew damper by the minute. The two could dodge the rain dripping from the roof, but they couldn't escape the raindrops carried in by the wind through the cracks.

The temperature inside the room kept dropping, and the damp bedding only made things worse.

The older sister tried to hold her younger brother tighter, using their shared body heat to warm each other, but it wasn't much help. She could feel her brother trembling more violently.

Or maybe it was her own body shaking just as much.

They couldn't go on like this.

Biting her lip, the older sister steeled herself, grabbed her brother, and quickly scrambled off the bed, the two of them running toward the other bedroom in the house.

After quietly pulling the door open, she breathed a sigh of relief.

No one was inside.

Their gambling, drinking father hadn't come back after all.

The reason they'd come here was that this room held the family's only brazier. The older sister found matches in a drawer, but they were damp and hard to light, and her fingers were stiff with cold.

After several attempts, she finally managed to ignite the brazier.

In an instant.

A crimson flame flickered to life in the dark room, swaying.

"Get warm now, little brother."

"It's fire... Did the God of Fire come to help us?"

"I'm so sleepy, big sis."

The younger brother, pressed against her chest, had already drifted off, his breathing turning into a soft snore. The older sister began to doze off too. The steady warmth from the brazier drove away the cold, and this precious heat soon lulled her into sleep.

But unfortunately.

That peace didn't last long.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A frantic knocking jolted the older sister awake.

"Open up! Open the door! Vivian!" Her father's panicked shouts from outside drowned out even the rain, his voice laced with desperation, as if someone was chasing him.

Oh no.

Not as if.

Thud!

Vivian had just gotten off the bed and reached the door, ready to open it, when the small wooden door was kicked straight in.

Right behind it came her father's battered, bruised body, also sent flying inside.

"Run, run! If you don't pay up tonight, I'll burn this whole house down! Money, hand over the money!" A villager in a raincoat stood at the doorway, his face twisted in fury, craning his neck to roar at the fallen father.

Through the heavy rain, Vivian could still vaguely make out his face.

It was the village bully, Gibber.

Maybe it was Vivian's gaze that tipped Gibber off that there were others inside, or maybe it was her little brother, woken by the noise and coming to find his sister. Either way, seeing these two children, one big and one small, the burly villager flashed a vicious grin.

"Can't come up with the money, huh? Then let your kids pay the debt instead!"

Gibber sneered as he strode into the house with one big step, grabbing the still half-asleep little brother, who had no idea what was happening.

"Let go! Let Andy go!" Vivian screamed, clawing at Gibber's clothes when she saw her brother taken.

But how could her frail, skinny little girl's body match up to a grown man? Not only did she fail to pull her brother back, but she was nearly dragged out of the house by Gibber as well.

In the chaos and darkness, desperate, the girl's hand brushed against something sharp hanging by the door.

It was something she used for cutting grass every day.

A sickle.

The blade was long rusted and dull, no longer sharp, but it was still more than enough to cut through human skin.

After all, the human body was so fragile.

With a weapon, even a little girl just over ten years old could kill an adult.

Drip.

Drip, drip, drip.

The chaos ceased, leaving only the sound of rain in the dark night, but this time, the rain soaking Vivian had turned crimson.

"Sis... Sis..."

"Vivian, you, you!"

Crack!

Lightning split the night sky. In that instant of daylight, the frozen image was of a dazed younger brother, a terrified father, and a silent girl.

And the bloodstained scythe in the girl's hand, along with Gibber lying in a wide pool of blood at her feet.

"Heh."

"Heh heh heh."

"What a useless old waste."

The girl lifted her head. Though the face and voice were familiarly the same, Anlu—Vivian's father—scrambled backward into a corner like he'd seen a monster.

"Vi-Vivian, what's wrong with you?! No, that's not right, you're not Vivian, who the hell are you?!"

Anlu stared at his daughter in terror.

A completely unfamiliar daughter.

"Dog, you looking to die?" The scythe, still dripping with blood, rested against Anlu's neck. Vivian, her face smeared with gore, stared coldly at "her" father.

"If you don't want to die, carry Gibber's corpse to the hilltop, push it off the cliff, then forget tonight ever happened. Tell no one. Understand?"

"Remember: Gibber slipped and fell from the cliff in the heavy rain, died without a whole body. By morning, the beasts will have torn him apart. And that gambling debt you owe—the one hanging over your head—you'll be lucky enough to escape it, with no one coming after you."

"Fine, fine! I'll move him right now!" Anlu's body trembled—whether from fear or excitement at having his debt wiped clean, who could say.

After Anlu left with Gibber's corpse, the little wooden cabin returned to its former state, with only the siblings left.

Vivian tossed the scythe aside, letting the rain wash away the bloodstains. Then she looked at Andy, who stood frozen as if he hadn't yet snapped out of it. The girl frowned.

"Hmph. Another little waste."

"What are you standing there for, Andy? Come here!"

"You—" Facing his completely unfamiliar sister, young Andy instinctively stepped back, but his foot caught on a brazier on the floor. He was about to fall straight into it.

"Idiot!" Vivian's expression shifted. Though her mouth cursed without mercy, her body burst forth with strength that didn't match her frail frame.

She lunged at Andy, and the two rolled across the ground, narrowly dodging the brazier.

"Does it hurt?" Half-crouching, Vivian lifted her brother's clothes and quickly tended to the wounds from Gibber's earlier grabbing and the fresh fall.

"Waaah... Sis... I'm so scared..." At that moment, Andy seemed to find the familiar sister in Vivian again. The little boy threw himself into her arms and sobbed loudly.

"Cry! All you know is cry! Andy, remember this: you're a man. You can't wait for others to protect you. You have to protect others—especially your sister. Got it?!"

"Waaah... I... I know, Sis... Waaah waaah!"

"Enough! Stop crying. Help me up quick. Your other sister is about to come back. Remember to carry her to the bed!"

Just as Andy looked confused, not understanding what his sister meant—

The girl, who had been standing firm moments ago, suddenly went dark and collapsed to the ground.

"Sis!"

"Sis, what's wrong?!"

"Sis..."

"Vivian?"

"Vivian, what's wrong?"

"Vivian!"

Claw Forest.

A strange call came from beside her ear—no, it wasn't sound, but some kind of sensation from deep within her heart.

Consciousness stirred.

Vivian opened her eyes.

What she saw was a wide splatter of blood and a headless corpse kneeling not far ahead of her.

"Heh."

"Heh heh heh."

"This coward—she's calling me out to clean up her mess again, isn't she?"