Trading oneself for power, unbalanced stakes, added weight for what one cherished, exchanges and swallowing flesh.
It all felt far too familiar to him.
The old man desperately stuffed the Flesh Chunks he had received in exchange into his mouth.
He had already been rather thin, and he looked utterly disproportionate beside the great slab of flesh Isaac had cut off.
Yet he wolfed it down, stuffing the entire slab into his stomach.
"I've grown stronger... stronger again... it really can give me power!!" He clenched his fists, savoring the sense of power filling him.
"Again!"
The blade sliced through air and flesh, carrying a hint of trembling and a hint of frenzy.
Each piece of flesh the old man cut off was larger than the last, and Isaac likewise smiled as he pushed over ever larger Flesh Chunks.
"Haha, power!"
"I've finally gained power!"
"Quillen, Sean, Sophia, nothing can hurt you this time!"
"This time, I can protect everyone!"
The old man shouted in near madness. Once again, he picked up the knife, preparing to cut off his flesh.
But...
His knife caught on something, cutting nothing off.
The old man looked down in bewilderment. His lower body had already been stripped to bare bone, without a shred of flesh remaining.
The tip of the knife was now lodged between his bones.
Elliot rose to his feet, his expression grim.
Understanding dawned on the old man's face, and without hesitation, he pointed the knife at his chest.
"Wait."
A hand suddenly stopped him.
The old man looked up. It was Isaac.
Still smiling, he held the old man's knife hand down.
"If you cut off your flesh again, you'll die."
"Die...?"
The word seemed to bring the old man a moment of clarity, and he looked down at himself.