01:07:56.
The logbook is crashing.
At a speed that sends chills down your spine.
"I'm not trying to be mean... but do you have some kind of unusual fetish?"
Sergio stopped moving, and somewhat dazedly raised his hand to touch the thing that had suddenly appeared around his neck—a collar-like object.
The thing felt cold to the touch, and he didn't know what it was made of. It looked like animal skin and was pressed tightly against his neck. He felt like he was some kind of animal being chained up. It was decorated with dark patterns, and the bottom was deep red, like grooves of blood—there must be a ghost inside—he stared, looking like he was about to vomit.
Just as I was about to crush it in my hand.
Before him, Carlos's body began to disintegrate.
At the same time, another loud crash was heard, and the entire Dolphin Hotel seemed to shake. Something was rising in the dark sky, giving people a momentary illusion of dawn.
"Are you trying to scam me? I didn't do anything."
Sergio was shocked. Damn it, he hadn't even had a chance to use his special ability yet, and this guy was already acting like he was about to die. He was the one who was just talking tough earlier, so what is he up to now, buddy?
Carlos didn't say anything more, but staggered and knelt on the ground, his body curling up uncontrollably, as if he was being tortured in the most extreme way, with all sorts of random sharp objects being stuffed into his body just to fill the inside and beautify the outside, making him look as if he were intact, maintaining the appearance of a fine consumer product under the holy style lighting.
"All I can say is, your class level has dropped a lot overnight, my friend. It's hard for me to accept this..."
Before Sergio could finish speaking, the world went completely black and turned upside down. He felt himself falling towards something—
His whole body began to ache, as if he had been taken apart and barely pieced back together, and even then, the pieces were completely misaligned. The feeling was all too familiar, both inexplicably and utterly absurd, as if he were about to lose something extremely important, making him instinctively reach out to grab it—
Then his vision cleared again, and he saw Carlos, realizing what had happened.
Grotesque cracks appeared on the two people's bodies, yet they were so coordinated and in perfect harmony.
The dead inside were wailing desperately.
Amidst the churning sea of blood, faces emerged—those who had died at his hands, Chris, Stanford, his parents, his colleagues, and many, many more strangers.
At this moment, several knuckles grew out of their foreheads, more like claws. They reached out to touch the blood plasma, tasted it, and grinned maliciously.
"We will not disappear."
"That's it! These two people! Their lives are bound together!"
"We can smell... this intoxicating scent! Everyone will be doomed!"
"You ultimately chose another shortcut! Thank goodness! Thank goodness!"
"And now... does anyone still think they can escape?"
after.
Countless faces that grew out of the skin opened their mouths wide at the same time, each repeating the same phrase, creating a scene like a frenzied chorus.
"Share share share share share share share share share share share share share."
The frantic shouts, like a death knell, echoed throughout the entire space.
It felt like an instant, yet several years had passed.
Sergio didn't know if this was his own hallucination, a side effect of manipulating the butterfly effect, or a backlash from his mother's taboo. At that moment, those rambling madmen uttered new words.
"This is something you did willingly."
“D02, Mr. Carlos.”
"You've made the best decision so far, even though to outsiders it's as complicated as a pile of dog poop mixed with fresh juice."
"You know... since you don't have the guts to use that trump card, that's understandable."
"After all, my existence is..."
"In order to share suffering."
"Bear the consequences."
"It's wonderful."
"What could be greater than empathy?"
The millions of condensed human faces began to separate, and in just a few breaths, they coalesced into a huge head, which emerged from Carlos's body, leaving behind a large pool of blood.
"As for you... you self-righteous rat who has gone through cycles of reincarnation."
"You asked for this."
Having said that, it attacked Sergio directly.
The latter had absolutely no control over his body. Damn it, this ring was like a ghost, probably some kind of restrictive taboo, and it had a huge backlash against the user.
But now, he could only try to dodge with his stiff legs, but the thing pierced right through his body, like a phantom.
The binding process then ended.
Carlos finally mustered some strength and tried to open his palm, then quickly clenched it again. He wasn't sure if he was trying to control what he wanted to take out, but the action looked like a death struggle.
Soon, Sergio found himself almost unharmed.
Aside from the initial pain and the strange feeling of not being able to control my limbs, as well as the broken and cracked skin, there was nothing else. This injury was something that could heal in the time it takes to take Eoubs oral medication.
Carlos's body was shattered to an absurd degree, yet it was stubbornly held together, a mere patchwork to maintain his life force, as he relentlessly vomited blood clots and bits of flesh.
He... could be said to have nothing left, only a tiny bit of life force from the deepest part of hell, and it was still festering, seemingly trying to hide it, but being forcibly exposed.
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