Shadows Die Twice (Two-in-One, Seeking Monthly Tickets)

Birmingham, Lower District, Hound Bar.

--On the other side.

"Thump, thump, thump."

Inside the Blood Pool, the heart of Jim Belloc continued to beat on its own before slowly dissolving, passing away into the blood.

But a greater heartbeat resonated, echoing, trembling, growing clearer and clearer.

Until, it was right beside the ear.

"Splash—"

Viscous liquid splashed into ripples. Limbs, moist and amorphous like a slime, slowly stretched out from the Blood Pool, coiling around the still-warm corpse of Jim Belloc, greedily gnawing and burgeoning with growth.

"Crunch, crunch."

Teeth-grinding friction and sucking sounds echoed beside the Blood Pool. The Mark of [Blade] within Belloc, not yet fully precipitated, followed this connection of the same origin and smoothly fused into the amorphous limbs, blending on the surface into more complex patterns.

It was like the maw of a hound dripping with saliva, sharp and hideous.

[Strife] and [Devour], two paths bit into each other uglily, creating the blasphemous creature before the eyes.

The reward once promised to Jim Belloc by the Blood Cup Cult was delivered in a less-than-pleasant manner. The newborn Abomination couldn't wait to tear open the sticky membrane of its mouth, letting out the first cry since its birth.

"Hungry—"

The Second Seal, [Blood-Thirsty Hound], was born!

"Boss, the police are about to... aieeeeeee! There's a monster! Monster, why is there a monster?"

A member of the Hound Gang, who had been walking down the stairs intending to ask Belloc how to handle the scene, slipped. Amidst terrified screams, he collapsed at the feet of the newborn monster, losing all sense of direction.

Beside the now-rightfully-named Bloodhound, the newly born "Belloc," a pale red mist like miasma permeated the air. In his panic, the unlucky Hound Gang member inhaled the mist deeply, and his reason was crushed by fear born of instinct. He wanted to run, but he couldn't move; even his fingertips were twitching, leaving only frantic screams echoing in the warehouse.

Discordant and grating, hard to listen to.

Shaking a head that appeared somewhat underdeveloped, "Belloc," who barely had a shape under the constraints of the Seal, sniffed. One of his five arms grabbed the man's feet casually, lifting him up like a chick, and curiously took a bite at the throat that was still screaming.

The screaming stopped abruptly. Blood sprayed like a fountain, the tense body straightened, and the feet, having lost a shoe, dangled helplessly.

With a "pfft," he spat out half of a chewed-up skull. "Belloc" tossed the headless corpse aside in disgust, his moist, canine-like nose sniffing the air.

The scent lingering in the wind drifted in, bringing fresh instructions.

--There is something delicious there.

Sticking out a tongue covered in layers of barbs, "Belloc" frolicked, using all six legs to take steps with slight unfamiliarity.

Leaving a crooked trail on the stairs and walls, he charged at full speed toward the upper level—no, toward Horn.

The massive and twisted body possessed unimaginable speed. Numerous limbs pushed against the floor of the passage, crawling in rapid alternation and making a hair-raising rustling sound.

The saliva that couldn't stop dripping from his mouth trailed in the wind, held high. When it was flung onto the rough wall, it made a faint hissing sound.

Ugly, like a premature baby crawled out of someone's nightmare.

Perhaps, it truly was "premature."

[The First Seal is temptation, the Second Seal is pursuit.]

Back in the Roman era, the mentors of the Limia Cult taught new Apprentices this way by the rivers of Gallaecia.

The sun was brighter then than it is now—though not warmer—but even today, these words retain their power.

When an Apprentice practicing the Formless Secret Arts obtains the First Seal amidst temptation and steps onto the transcendent path, they will involuntarily seek deeper, more heterogeneous power.

This is pursuit; like a moth to a flame, there is no return.

And at the stage of the Second Seal, surging desires will cause parts of the body to alienate, transforming into a brand-new form. Uncontrolled alienation often means the loss of power and the madness of the spirit. Power will conversely dominate reason, and the Seal will devour the body.

Thus, one falls into becoming an "Abomination," a beast wandering the borderlands.

Combining the sharp soul of a [Thug] with the mutated life force of [Blood], what was presented was such a pathetic, such an ugly form.

The newborn [Blood-Thirsty Hound] waved its numerous limbs, thirsting with all its heart and soul for a gluttonous feast.

Six eyes of different colors stared together at the heavy iron door at the end of the corridor. Between the rotation of the eyeballs, there was endless yearning.

Even though his chaotic brain was filled with gluttony and bloodlust, Belloc could instinctively perceive the clear, rhythmic heartbeat behind that large iron door. It was so calm, without fear, without defense.

--It is the perfect prey!

Thus, muscles bulged; thus, claws and fangs were bared; thus, the mouth opened wide.

Slamming into it!

"Boom!"

A loud noise came. The walls trembled, dust fell from the ceiling in a flurry. The cast-iron door protecting the smuggled goods faithfully performed its original function; it was only slightly distorted, but still dutifully fixed to the door frame.

If one ignored the cracked and precarious door frame, it was truly a gratifying result.

Borrowing the momentum of the charge, "Belloc" had almost broken the door frame securing the large door in one strike!

Sensing with keen hearing that the originally steady heartbeat on the other side of the door had suddenly paused for an instant, "Belloc's" restless hunting instinct surged.

"Roar—"

Accompanied by an intimidating roar, a pale red mist seeped into the warehouse through the cracks ahead of its physical form, deepening the prey's fear with every breath...

Deepening what?

The colorless, yet brilliant flame existed, and its mere presence caused the approaching pale red mist to churn and dissipate. At the center of the flame, something had already been forged into existence.

"Creeeak—"

The iron door, violently clawed, twisted and emitted a teeth-grinding, sharp friction sound. Looking at the narrow space within the smuggling warehouse and the only path ahead, Horn wore a troubled expression.

And so, a blade was raised.

"Thud, thud, thud!"

Outside the door, the blood-thirsty monster slammed into the gate again and again. Seeing the gap widening, its stomach, filled with acid and hunger, churned.

So fragrant, so fragrant, so fragrant, so fragrant—

Retreating a few steps, then transforming into a blur as it charged forward again, Belloc, certain of its victory, did not collide with the expected cold metal, but instead lunged straight into the warehouse. Unexpectedly, it was not the trembling prey that greeted it at the door, but a makeshift speed bump constructed from piles of shelves.

Its limbs slid clumsily across the floor, sharp claws leaving deep gouges, but the Blood-Thirsty Hound could not stop its momentum and crashed into the trap Horn had hastily set. Its torso was pinned by the shelves, leaving it unable to move for a moment.

But even the heavy shelves swayed unsteadily under the monstrous strength of Belloc, threatening to topple at any moment. It could not hold it for long; the obstruction it caused was decaying with every passing breath.

However, this was enough.

Seizing this opportunity, a figure flashed out from behind the opened iron door, sprinting downward in a twisted posture as if about to slip.

Running away is shameful, but it really works.jpg

While running, with his sleeve concealing it, Horn's left hand hung limply. A winding trail of blood flowed down his wrist, scattering a fragrance that was lethal to the Blood-Thirsty Hound.

Following this scent, Belloc's attention was drawn to the storage room floor. Exactly at the limit of its reach lay a blood-stained, solid object, lying there defenseless.

After thinking for a fleeting moment with a brain no larger than a walnut, and with a delicacy before it, Belloc—its reason completely blown away—struggled to drag its deformed body out from under the toppled shelves. It bit into the solid object, greedily licking the blood trails extending from it, its tough tongue whipping about in a blur.

Delicious, eat it up, fragrant, this has a kick, and it even glows...

Wait, glowing?

A strange, scorching sensation came from Belloc's lips and teeth. A mischievous wisp of flame danced joyfully along the blood on the floor, rushing toward the Blood-Thirsty Hound, which was eager to devour it, sharing the joy of the meal within its warm, moist mouth.

You are happy, I am happy too. When two happinesses are added together, then it must...

Explode with happiness!

Having already reached the Blood Pool and used the Flame of Destiny to cauterize his bleeding wound, Horn finally had the energy to look at the simple light screen before him, where a card flickered with unstable white light.

Unlike its predecessor, which was as dark as dust, the new card featured an illustration of a milky-white solid block, with glowing pure white text appearing beside it.

[Apprentice's Explosive: A newly emerged contraband that has not yet been added to the customs blacklist.]

[Aspect—Material: Limited, just like life. [Consumed upon use]]

[Aspect—Ember 4: ALITUR PROPRIIS IGNIS CINERIBUS (The fire is nourished by its own ashes)]

"A brighter possibility, indeed..."

Whether it was bright or not, Horn didn't know, but it was definitely—

Wind, wind, light, light!

The storage room.

At this moment, under the prodding of Belloc's barbed tongue, the scorching wind and blinding light cheered as they escaped from its gaping maw. A blinding sun rose from within Belloc's mouth!

"BOOM!"

The walls trembled violently, dust fell in sheets, and the sound was like thunder, as bright as a sunrise. Staggering, Horn simply sat down on his backside beside the nearly dried-up Blood Pool, staring at the light screen with a grave expression.

Please, big brother, stop living, I'm scared.

Fortunately, even after living a second life, Belloc still could not exceed the limitations of a mortal body. After a long ten seconds, a line of text popped up smoothly.

[Fate Deflection—]

[Ember, blazing!]

Feeling the Flame of Destiny grow stronger by a fraction, Horn let out a sigh of relief. He patted the dust off his shoulders, forced his sore and aching legs to move, and stood up by leaning against the wall.

As long as it was a creature made of flesh and blood, it could not withstand thermal weapons. Perhaps if it grew a bit more, it could ignore a fatal wound like a shattered head, but clearly, the newborn Blood-Thirsty Hound was not yet that strong.

After lingering for a while on sheer tenacity, Belloc finally kicked its legs and croaked on the spot.

—Shadows Die Twice.

Happy, happy, happy.

He estimated that no matter how much the Hound Gang tried to cover it up, they couldn't hide such a conspicuous explosion. Even if they played dumb, the police would have to come and take a look. Taking steps toward the upper levels again, Horn prayed sincerely that there would still be a path to take after the explosion.

He brushed off his sleeves nonchalantly, clearing away a small patch of dust shaken down by his footsteps. There was still a lingering warmth in front of him, but the wind blowing from behind was a bit cold, making Horn shiver involuntarily.

Shivering, shivering, his steady footsteps suddenly stopped.

In the basement, how could there be wind?

"Thud, thud."

The death of a key node brought about the activation of the final function. In the nearly dried-up Blood Pool, invisible rain fell, creating ripples. The ripples connected into one, and then waves surged one after another, rushing toward the hanging emblem.

Stiffly turning his head, the crimson pupils of Horn were like a mirror; upon the glass-like surface, eyes were reflected—eyes, eyes, and more eyes... countless eyes.

Human, beast, fish, bird, insect...

Vertical pupils, horizontal pupils, compound eyes, photoreceptors...

Countless eyes scrambled to hatch from the emblem of the Cup of Insatiable, all staring at Horn.

Filled with curiosity and wonder.

As if they were saying.

At last, we have found you!

It wasn't as if Horn had never had absurd dreams before.

For instance, the alchemy level of everyone in the world dropping by ten thousand times.

During the alchemy examination, while the venerable mentor was still teaching students the correct way to hold a test tube, only he would rise with flair, strike a match with ease, and ignite the wick of an alcohol lamp with the orange-red outer flame, causing an uproar in the hall.

"What, he actually knows the long-lost technique of lighting an alcohol lamp?!"

Even the white-haired grandmaster of alchemy would vigorously pat him on the shoulder, his face full of kindness, praising him endlessly:

"Good, good, good! You are truly an unparalleled talent in alchemy! I shall do everything in my power to cultivate you!"

From then on, he would receive promotions and raises, achieving fame and fortune. He would pioneer a new era, ignite the technology of the future, reshape the world single-handedly, and leave a legacy that would last for eternity...

Even a thousand years after his death, clear-eyed college students would still be staring at textbooks, analyzing his offhand remarks with pained expressions, struggling with all their might to perform reading comprehension just to scrape together a few extra points.

And now, something even more absurd had arrived.

On the light screen, countless scarlet warning texts flashed by, layers of windows squeezing against one another, their edges blurred by the friction.

[Analyzing...]

[Warning! Warning!]

[Aberrant "Blood" spirituality detected gathering externally; boundary formation initiated.]

[Activity of "Blood" spirituality detected rising; critical threshold reached!]

[Final warning! Source of contamination approaching; presumed to be Fifth Rank!]

[Divinity source detected; analyzing...]

[Analysis complete; all failed!]

Then what use are you?!

Closing the light screen that was popping up with windows like an avalanche, Horn truly couldn't keep his composure anymore.

On the Blood Tide, countless eyes blinked in unison, shifting from dull to exceptionally lively. Without the prompts from the light screen, Horn knew that something filthy had arrived.

And, it was filthy indeed!