“Hey, Moleman, there you are,” I say, entering his room. Or maybe it’s an office. We never did decide on that. Either way, it’s piled with stacks of paper and letters—most of them unread. It’s not like he had to sign off on too many, anyways. Funnily enough, now that I’m looking, there are no books in here. Ursula got plenty of books, and she read a fair few of them before she croaked. But Moleman hasn’t even asked for any. Too busy with work, I suppose. “I brought you something good.”
Holding up a little glass of fruit juice, I step closer to his bed.
Back when he was still whole, the bed looked a little small. We weren’t able to get a custom-made human-sized one into the room, and he insisted on the goblin variant being fine, so I let him go through with it.
Now that he’s nothing but a lump with a head, the bed doesn’t look too strange. I think he’s the first one we’ve amputated all four limbs on—successfully, at least. He looks a little funny, what with his head propped up and his body being nothing but a sheet-covered hump. All his curly, dark hair is tangled against his pillow, some of it matted to his forehead in sweaty lumps. His thick lips are cracked and pale, parted slightly to show a BLACKened tongue. And even though he’s never exactly been the slim type, his cheeks and eyes look sunken, as they do on most sick people.
His eyes turn to me.
I drop the glass of juice. Trembling, I feel a grin spread across my face.
There it is. Finally! Finally he’s looking at me like that!
“Ah—ah, I’m sorry, I…” I go down on my knees, pulling my little blue handkerchief from my inventory to dab up the juice. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I was…” I stifle a laugh. Or maybe that would make it more extreme? Or it could make him rethink things. I can’t take the chance. This has to work perfectly. Bringing my handkerchief to my lips, I suck out the liquid before returning it to my inventory. I’ll wash it properly later. Glass in hand, I stand up again. Ah, I feel so nervous. I’m like a girl asking her date out to the prom, except I already know he’s going to say ‘yes.’
Holding the glass in both hands, I take my place at his side. My claws nervously tap against the side of the glass. “S—so…” I say, my stomach bubbling and full of butterflies, my smile awkward and wriggling. “You finally hate me, huh?”
His eyes don’t shift away from me. I know he can’t talk. But he doesn’t need to. Simel didn’t need to, and I still understood him perfectly. At least, at the very end.
“Good. That’s good. That… that makes me really happy, Moleman. It’s a good thing. I don’t think I’ve seen you this alive in… Months, I guess. How does it feel? Do you feel better? Ah, wait, sorry, I shouldn’t push it. You’ve made up your mind. I can tell.” My smile widens. His BLACK gaze wavers. Ah, shoot. Can’t have that. “I’ll do it tonight, by the way. They won’t see it coming. For your sake… I’ll try to kill them in their sleep. That should be fine, right? It will be finished around morning, so if you don’t want to think about what’s happening, you can just pretend it’s the birds and the dawn. It’ll be okay. It’ll all turn out okay.”
His eyes darken again. Fully. Properly. There’s still a little glint in there, but I’m sure that come morning, it’ll be gone. Then, he won’t have to look back. And neither will I.
He opens his lips. I know what he’s about to do.
Without explaining myself or waiting even a single second, I press my finger to his forehead. “Sorry. I can’t allow that.”
<[Touch of Reversed Divinity Protection (Lv.6)]>
He blinks at me. I need a moment to collect myself, so I put my palm to his forehead. Yeesh, what a fever… Pulling my handkerchief out of my inventory, I almost use it before realizing that it’s still wet and dirty. I put it back, frowning. Then, I turn to him. The words aren’t jumbled together in my head anymore, so I can talk.
“Don’t look so afraid,” I coo. “You’re okay. I’d never hurt you lastingly. This is… this was… See, I asked Benevil about it, while he was still around, and he asked Cruelty, who was so fond of him that he told him everything he wanted to know. So, to explain it briefly…” I bring myself to smile. “Now, I won’t have to worry about you blowing your head off using magic.”
His eyes widen by a fraction.
“Yeah,” I say, seating myself on the edge of his bed, “I may not be able to use it, but thanks to Benevil, I know how it works now. His private notes were very helpful in that. Now I know that your little hand-exploding trick a few days ago wasn’t a very unusual consequence of a spell backfiring. I also know that you can use any part of your body to cast a spell, including your head. However, without using a spellcollar, doing so could cost you your life. Which I’m sure is something you’d like to do right now, because then you can die a heroic death or something. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
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His eyes tremble with rage.
“But I’ve stopped that. See, this ability I have… It lets me use the effects of resistances on others, to the degree I’ve acquired. It’s self-explanatory for stuff like brain damage resistance or organ rupture resistance. But what about gamma ray resistance? Or, better yet… What about divinity resistance? What would that do? Well… I tested it out. And, from what I can tell…” Going by the look in his eyes, I shouldn’t even need to say it. But I still do. “It inhibits the use of divinity. I’m not sure how deeply it inhibits it, or for how long it lasts, but…” I smile. “For now, it’ll keep you from blowing your own head off.”
I look down at him. His eyes, burning with BLACK. Do I really need to twist the knife in further? Is there any need to say anything more?
Well, I guess if he hasn’t made the connection even though he hates me now and I just told him about TRT, he needs a less subtle hint.
“Oh, by the way,” I say easily, “I spread the dragon plague.”
He doesn’t even move. That’s understandable. With what I just said… he’ll need a bit more time. If everything tonight goes well, he should have all the time he’ll ever need to think about it.
Sighing, I stand up again. He’s not looking at me anymore. He’s just staring straight ahead, like he’s peering out into some kind of mist.
Well… I’ll leave him to it. I have a lot of work to do, and only a single night to do it.
“I’ll be going now. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you exactly when I’ll be back to pick you up, but… You should be able to hear me.” I head towards the door. Putting my hand on the door handle, I only just have time to pull it before a dull gurgle behind me snaps me out of my daze and I turn back around. He’s leaned towards me, face twisted in hatred of a kind I’ve only ever seen on Simel, his eyes just as BLACK as his distant friend. I smile at him. “Glad to see it. Goodbye, Moleman.”
Then, I leave. How does the saying go? The night is young, and so am I.
Before I do anything, I need to check the time. Let’s see here…
<19:24:31
Day 1 219>
11:04:36:29> Right. Perfect. I’ve got over half an hour until the designated meeting time with the latest captain of the guards. I could probably stick around here for a while longer, but then I might be late, which would be uncool. So, putting all that aside, I head out to my date with destiny. Let’s see here, according to my schedule… at eight in the evening, I’ll meet up with the guards and the various other unpaid social workers. Then I’ll kill them. Once I’m done, probably at around eight thirty, I’ll head to each of the gates to kill the remaining guards and break the locking mechanisms so it will be impossible to escape, even if there are survivors. And then, from nine to five, approximately, I’ll kill the rest of the people in the city. This shouldn’t be any issue. “A—Angel, we have gathered, as you asked. Pray tell, for what reason—” “You bastard! Why the hell did you—” “It’s gone insane! Run, we have to—” “Aaaaaaaaahhh!!” “Please, no, I have a family—” “Spare me, I beg of you—” “Don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt—” <...> Alright, that’s the guards done with, and I’m a whole ten minutes ahead of schedule! Wonderful. Onto the gates, then. “Angel? Why are you here? Didn’t you summon everyone for a meeting at the—” “Wh—wh—what have you—” And then the others. <...> Doing all of the gates took more time than expected, but I was able to leave one of them usable for when we leave later. And now, there’s only the city itself left. Normally, I’d set fire to it straight away, but I have to make certain that I get everyone. Besides, I need to control the spread properly, otherwise it could preliminarily reach the hospital. So, despite there being a more efficient way of doing this, I head out. First house. I slip my claw between the door and the doorframe, slice the lock in two, and enter. The adults are awake. I enter the living room, where the mother holds the children in her arms and the father tiredly sings a lullaby. They don’t notice me. I saunter up behind him and slice off his neck. <26 130 infected.> Now, she notices. Her eyes go wide. Her ears fold back. “A—angel?” I kill her. <26 129 infected.> The kids wake up. “Angel?” I really hate that nickname. <26 127 infected.> That’s one house down… A couple thousand left to go. Yeah, this is going to be a long night.