The Schizophrenic Diablo and the Beautiful Statue

The Schizophrenic Diablo and the Beautiful Statue

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"You're Diablo?" Diya stared in astonishment at the red figure that had suddenly appeared in midair.

"That's right. Yours truly." Diablo drifted down and landed in front of Diya, standing about as tall as an ordinary person. He looked much like he did in the game, only with a stronger sense of realism. Simply put, he was a miniature version of Diya Polo.

After landing, the guy sat on a rock, casually draped his tail over it, and crossed his legs, swinging one foot lazily. Diya didn't know what to make of him.

This was Diablo, the terrifying destroyer whose name struck fear into everyone's hearts? Why did he look like some street punk wearing a Diablo costume for cosplay?

"Surprised? I'm not what you imagined, am I?" Diablo said with a knowing smile, as if he could sense Diya's thoughts. Then, in an anguished tone, he continued, "I really was what you imagined before. But people on Earth are too good at assimilating others. I've only been on Earth for fifteen years, and after spending time around a few people, my personality turned out like this."

"Uh..." Diya was at a loss for words. People on Earth—especially the Han Chinese—really were good at assimilating others. Poor Diablo.

"But I realized this is what I want to be." Before Diya could finish feeling sorry for him, Diablo cried out excitedly, "Among the people on Earth who've owned the Horadric Cube, there were students, workers, office employees, punks, gangsters, even terrorists. I learned all kinds of things I never knew before."

"You really are one of a kind," Diya muttered helplessly.

"Exactly. You know what?" Diablo suddenly jumped off the rock and leaned close to Diya, speaking mysteriously. "I used to spend time with a few people with severe dissociative identity disorder, and then... heh heh heh."

"Don't tell me you got assimilated too?"

"Correct! I developed dissociative identity disorder too." Diablo grinned smugly. His aura abruptly changed, and he returned to the rock, sitting ramrod straight. Diya was startled. Something seemed different. Diablo stared at him coldly, making him feel as if he were looking at a stranger.

Then the strange feeling vanished.

"What was that just now?" Diya asked, confused.

"My other self, Moge, who emerged after I split," Diablo explained. "He's different from me. That guy is a taciturn brooder, like a block of ice. I can use Hellfire, while the energy he can use is Nether Prison Thunder. Before I split, Hellfire and Nether Prison Thunder were fused together."

"Uh..." Diya nodded, somewhat dazed. Honestly, the whole thing was bizarre. He'd already been amazed to see Diablo, then he'd met a punk-like Diablo, and now there was a schizophrenic Diablo. Diya felt like the world had gone completely haywire.

"Usually, I'm the one in control. That brooding guy doesn't like talking or showing himself, so he tends to stay hidden," Diablo said at length.

"Fine. What should I call you two?"

"You already called me Diablo, didn't you? I like that. As for the other guy, come up with something yourself."

"Then I'll call him Radish. It's simple and easy to remember," Diya said offhandedly.

"Radish. That works. He agrees. Not that he'd object—he thinks names are all the same. He's an extremely rational guy," Diablo said without tiring.

"All right. I have some questions for you." Diya took a deep breath, then rattled them off like a machine gun. "Why are you in my soul? Does the Horadric Cube work the same way it does in the game? How did I get here? And why is this place called the Rogue Encampment?"

"Let's take them one at a time. First, the universe contains countless planes. Perhaps the world you saw in your game was an entire plane. As for why I'm in your soul, it's because you came into contact with the Horadric Cube and bound it to yourself. Why did it bind itself to you? In Earthling terms, fate decided it. You blew up your computer, so the world of that game blew up too."

"Second, I don't know what the Horadric Cube does. Different worlds have different rules. Perhaps its function changed somehow, but you'll have to find out for yourself."

"Third, the body you brought here is made from your mental energy. Your mental energy can take physical form here, but it has no combat ability. Only when your actual body enters will you have your original combat strength. How can your body enter? It's simple: your mental energy must be strong enough to support it. How strong is strong enough? You'll have to figure that out yourself."

"Fourth, you've played Diablo. The first place you visit when you start the game is the Rogue Encampment. The thirty-nine fragments left by Hell's destruction were formed according to the game's map, and the first one is naturally the Rogue Encampment."

Diablo finished in one breath. As Diya listened, he began to wonder whether he'd gotten any answers at all.

He looked around. This so-called Rogue Encampment really did look just like the one in the game, and it wasn't very large—about a kilometer long and a kilometer wide. The perimeter was enclosed by a fence made of sharpened logs as thick as a person's thigh. Beyond it lay nothing but darkness, an unfathomably deep black. Akara's tent, Charsi's smithy, and the wooden houses were all there, but the place was deserted.

"Hell exploded. Most of humanity died, and only a few things remained. In this Rogue Encampment, there's just one thing that's still intact," Diablo said.

"Where?" Diya asked eagerly.

"Over there." Diablo pointed, and Diya hurried over. Inside the building that had once housed the Mercenary Guild under Kashya's command stood a woman who looked like a statue. Her tight, dark-brown leather armor traced her curves beautifully, blending alluring femininity with athletic grace. She looked spirited and valiant.

The beautiful statue's eyes were closed. Her brown hair was tied into a ponytail that hung down her back, reaching to her rounded, lifted bottom. She stood perfectly straight, her feet set apart, one ahead of the other. Both hands were raised, gripping a wooden bow with an arrow nocked, poised to shoot. She radiated a fierce, murderous aura.

Overall, she looked just like a real human being, so lifelike it was uncanny.

"She really looks human," Diya said, reaching out to knead various parts of the beautiful statue. She wasn't hard like a statue at all; instead, she felt soft and firm, just like a real person. The sensation was wonderful—like he was touching a living woman.

"Gah ha ha! She is human," Diablo burst out laughing. "Look at your lecherous hands, groping all over her."

"She's a real human?" Diya's eyes widened in disbelief. His right hand happened to be resting on her ample chest, and he unconsciously gave it a few more squeezes.

"That's right. She's a human mercenary from the Rogue Encampment. She was lucky enough to survive, but she fell into a deep sleep," Diablo said. Diya murmured, "Oh," and withdrew his hand without changing his expression.

"You're the real brooder here," Diablo said when he saw Diya's face, squeezing his eyes into narrow slits. It made him look incredibly strange to Diya.

"What do I need to do to wake her up?" Diya ignored Diablo's remark.

"What, you want to take advantage of a real woman? You just need enough mental energy to bring your body here, and then you can wake her up," Diablo teased.

"Oh. Then I'll wait. By the way, how do you know about my past?"

"You're only thinking to ask that now? Sigh. It's because we're bound together. If you live, I live; if you die, my soul vanishes with you. You could say we're one, except that our consciousnesses and thoughts are different."

"Then why can you know about my past, while I don't know yours?"

"Because your soul is weaker than mine. If I don't want you to know, you won't." Diya was instantly dejected. His pride had completely evaporated.

"Come on, Xiao Li. Don't be pessimistic or lose hope. You're a promising young man..." Diablo rambled on, spittle flying, while Diya sank into his memories. Xiao Li—it sounded like a nickname for some palace eunuch, but Li had been his surname back on Earth.

"What's there to reminisce about? Look at yourself. On Earth, you just let each day pass, living a mediocre, useless life. And now that you're in this world, you're still being bullied. That's not the life you should be living. Our goal is to live a badass life! Hurry up and get stronger, then we'll build the biggest terrorist organization in this other world and carry out terrorist attacks in every country and region. We'll bring this world to ruin!" Diablo declared passionately, grandly laying out his plans.

Diya was utterly speechless. It was impossible to talk to this guy; his thoughts were all over the place. Had one of the previous owners of the Horadric Cube been Osama bin Laden?

Diya stopped paying attention to Diablo and let him go on talking by himself. Meanwhile, he wandered around the encampment, looking to see whether anything had been left behind—

"Don't go! The first thing we need to do is get revenge. We'll burn down the homes of the men who bullied you, and have our way with the women. Let's start with those two, Porter and Clarena!"