Bagley crossed his arms, looking pleased. "Well done. That was a remarkable improvement from last time. You executed the plan better this time, though there's room for improvement."

I gave him a light, sarcastic scoff before checking my profile.

Profile:

Name: Zakir Osman

Class: Apostle of the Death Lord.

Lesser Souls: 9

Normal Souls: 1

Greater Souls:

Absorbed Souls: 5

Abilities

Gun Expert (E) > Gun (C)

Investigation (B)

Defensive tactics (C)

Knife Expert (C)

Since the last time I checked, I've absorbed five souls. Bagley says that makes me as strong as six men. I've taken in the thug's soul, Mr. Smith's son, and out of the four who died recently, I only managed to absorb three of their souls. One of them slipped away—I think it's because I didn't kill him myself. Seems like I can only store the souls of those I personally take down. That's what I've figured out.

But besides absorbing souls, I've also gained new abilities, and some of them have even ranked up. Bagley seemed to read my mind. "Abilities are skills you get when you absorb a soul," he said. "But it's random; you never know what you'll end up with."

If I recall, the guy at the park had a gun. Maybe I got 'Gun Expert (E)' from him, though it's a low rank. He didn't look like a professional hitman, so that makes sense. Mr. Smith's son had a knife, so 'Knife Expert (C)' probably came from him. The other skills—'Investigation (B)' and 'Defensive Tactics (C)'—are likely from the officers.

Looking at all I've gained, I felt pretty pleased. Now there was one thing left: test how strong I really am. I clenched my fist and punched the van wall. It stung a bit, but I left a deep dent in the metal, like I almost punched right through it. But that wasn't the only thing. Suddenly, new information rushed into my mind—memories and images of places I'd never been. They belonged to... all the people I've absorbed.

Bagley chimed in, "After your fifth soul. You start tapping into the minds and memories of those you've absorbed. But remember, you can't do this with every soul. Some are stronger than others and resist absorption. In fact, you have a soul that's not willing to be absorbed."

“Yeah,” I said, memories surfacing. 'That thug from the other night. His friend ran off, talking about his mom. Still bothers me a bit.”

"Yeah, that's the one. To absorb his soul, you'll need to fix whatever's blocking it. But we can deal with that later. Right now, I want to walk you through your ability upgrades—they're way more important. Let's check out Gun Expert (E). It bumped up to Gun Expert (C) because one of the souls you absorbed had a higher-ranking ability. I bet it's from one of the officers—that's how you got the upgrade. Same with getting 'Investigation' from them, and I assume 'Defensive Tactics' is a fighting style focused on self-defense," Bagley said, sounding a bit impressed.

"Yeah, I have memories that aren't mine—training in self-defense tactics. It's weird. Why didn't they use this when they were fighting me?"

Bagley shrugged. "When people are in shock, they rarely tap into their skills and experience. It's common. Though I've noticed you're pretty good at staying calm, Zak. Maybe years of bullying trained you to handle stress."

There it is again—my bullying. It's come up a few times now. But that's not what's bothering me. I'm more concerned about whether he can access my memories. The thought makes me uneasy. So I ask him straight up.

"Yes, I can access your memories. All of them. From the day you were born until you stepped into semi-manhood," he replied without hesitation.

"Semi-manhood?" I echoed, confused.

He mimed a jerking-off motion, grinning. I tried to slap him, but he dodged like the ghost he is. Honestly, this is bad. If he can access my memories, then he knows everything—my thoughts, my secrets, everything I've ever felt. Damn, nothing is hidden from him.

"If you're worried I can read your thoughts—no, I can't," he said, noticing my discomfort. "I only have access to your memories. That's why I couldn't remove the timer when you asked me. If I could read your thoughts, maybe that deal between us would've worked out differently."

"Great, that's comforting," I muttered sarcastically.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

While we were chatting, the van suddenly jerked to a stop, snapping me back to reality. A voice shouted from the driver's seat, "Everything okay back there, Linda?"

Silence filled the air, and I didn’t dare make a sound. The driver muttered something about rude people and stepped out, slamming the door behind him. I tightened my grip around the gun. My heart was pounding. As soon as he opened the back door, I didn't let him react. I pulled the trigger without a second thought, the bullet hitting him square in the forehead.

He fell backward, eyes wide in a shock he'd never comprehend. I stood there, breathing hard, trying to steady myself. It was just one man, but it shouldn't have been this hard. I'd already killed four. Guess getting used to this will take more time.

I jumped out of the van and looked around. I was on a dirt road leading to what seemed like an abandoned farm. In the other direction, darkness stretched out, but I could see cars zipping by in the distance. Probably a dual carriageway. Must be somewhere in the countryside—no buildings in sight except for the farm and endless fields.

I decided to check out the abandoned farm. First stop was the barn. It was empty. The cow pens were vacant, half-eaten haystacks rotting away. The troughs were dry. Besides a few insects, there was nothing—just some shovels, a pitchfork, and a gasoline canister.

Then I headed to the farmhouse. I knocked on the door. No answer. It was dark, and my flashlight was the only thing cutting through the blackness. Darkness did scare me; what you can't see can hurt you the most.

"Don't be such a frightened babe," Bagley said, sensing my unease with darkness. "You're the Apostle of Death, not light. Darkness is your home, and death is your game. If anything, things hiding in the dark should fear you."

I straightened up. He had a point. I have this power. There's no turning back now. Time to accept it. I shined the flashlight inside the house. It looked empty. Furniture covered in white sheets, nothing on the tables. Seemed like no one had been here for ages.

"I need to bury the bodies. Can't just leave them out here to rot."

I grabbed the shovel from the barn, feeling a strange mix of urgency and dread. Heading back to the police van, I shoved the driver's body inside. Then I scooped up some dirt and spread it over the bloodstains—it would make it harder to spot, at least for now. Climbing into the van, I drove past my house and into the empty fields out back.

I started digging a massive grave instead of individual ones. Surprisingly, it took less time than I thought—only about an hour. One by one, I dragged the bodies and tossed them in. As I heaved the last one into the pit, something unexpected happened.

"Hey, there's this exclamation mark that was small before, but now it's grown big enough to block my vision," I said, puzzled.

"It's the system," Bagley replied. "It's trying to tell you it has something for you. Just think 'open' in your mind or say it out loud and see what happens." I did as he suggested, and suddenly, words appeared before me.

Congratulations! You have consumed more than 3 souls at once. The Death Lord is pleased with your progress and has granted you a fraction of his powers.

Soul Mirage: Change your appearance and voice to any soul you've consumed. You can maintain the form for 12 hours, with a 12-hour cooldown. Upgrading increases duration and reduces cooldown. Cost to next upgrade: 15 absorbed souls.

Soul Steal: Drain a soul to replenish your health and stamina. Can drain one soul at a time, with a 1-hour cooldown. Upgrading increases the amount replenished and reduces cooldown. Cost to next upgrade: 10 absorbed souls.

Current souls absorbed: 5

"Holy mother—praise the Death Lord!" Bagley exclaimed. "Do you have any idea what you've just received?"

I shook my head, still processing. I knew these abilities were strong, but his reaction made me realize they were something else entirely.

"He doesn't get it," Bagley cried out. "You've been granted a fraction of the Death Lord's power. Only a chosen few apostles in history receive this. Anyone given the Death Lord's power has the potential to become the Death Lord."

"So, that's a really big deal, huh?" I asked, feeling both excited and a bit scared.

"Does becoming an all-powerful being who can destroy planets on a whim count as just a 'big deal'?" he shot back.

"Point taken," I muttered as I went back to shoveling. Each scoop felt heavier than the last.

Knowing I might become a Death Lord unsettles me. Bagley, though, seems perfectly fine with it. I can't help but wonder what that says about me—or about him. How many people do you have to kill to gain unimaginable power? I glanced at the corpses nearby. I only killed them because they were going to kill me first. I'd rather keep it that way—only kill when there's no other choice. The idea of killing many for personal gain doesn't sit right with me. I don't want to become a monster.

Halfway through digging, an idea struck me. After taking out those officers, I knew my days were numbered. I'd have to disappear, but I had no clue how to go underground—that was a problem. Then I remembered Soul Mirage. Maybe there's a way. I turned to Bagley and shared my plan.

Bagley raised an eyebrow. "That's risky, but possible. Can you access the officers' memories?"

"I can, though it's bits and pieces," I replied. "For example, this guy had a wife and kid. That one had a girlfriend. And Linda over there—her boyfriend left her last week."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I won’t suggest becoming Linda. I’m not sure how you’d act as a female. But try the guy with the girlfriend—Don. Fewer connections make it easier to blend in."

I dug up the corpses again and removed Don's uniform, brushing off the dirt. Heading back into the barn, I grabbed the gasoline canister. I realized I'd have to burn the van and the bodies. Sooner or later, someone would find them, and before they realized there's a fake Don out there, I wanted Zak to vanish completely—the fugitive who got away.

I used two stones to spark a flame, setting the bodies alight. The flames crackled loudly, heat intense on my face. The smell was awful, but I forced myself to watch as they turned to ash. It was the least I could do. The fire drew nocturnal animals closer, but when they saw me—or maybe my eyes—they cowered and slipped back into the darkness. They sensed I was... different.

Once the bodies were completely burned, I filled the grave back up. It didn't take long. Then I drove the van into a nearby woodland, parked it deep inside, and doused it with the remaining gasoline. I didn't stick around to watch the explosion, but I couldn't deny—it felt pretty cool walking away as it erupted behind me a few steps later. For a moment, I felt like an action hero in a movie, though the reality was far grimmer.