"Going somewhere, princess?" the thug sneered as I scrambled backward.

Fear punched me in the gut. My hands shook. One had a gun. I was trapped. I called for Bagley. No answer. He was gone. Panic rose.

The gunman aimed at me. "Give me everything you have."

"I... I don't have money," I whispered.

He glared. "Empty your pockets."

I handed over my phone and a handkerchief. "Download Cash Trans. Send all your money to this account," he demanded.

I hesitated. He slammed the gun into my head. Pain burst; blood trickled down. I cried out.

"Do it now, or I'll empty this magazine into you and take your phone anyway."

I gulped. No one could help. I had to comply to survive. Then, suddenly, Bagley appeared—a glimmer of hope.

"Quick, use the handkerchief. Grab the gun, twist up and sideways, pull it away. Fast," he instructed.

Without thinking, I acted. Using the handkerchief, I grabbed the gun, twisted it upward and sideways, and let my phone drop from my other hand. With all the strength I could muster, I ripped the gun out of his grasp.

"Oh crap," he said, backing away.

"Fire."

"I-I don't know h-how—"

"Fire, I said!" Bagley screamed. His words jolted me, and I pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed in the empty night sky, louder than anything I'd ever heard.

The man clutched his abdomen. His blue jersey was now stained with dark patches, a small hole torn into it. He pulled down his scarf, revealing a mouth of yellowish teeth, his expression one of pure shock.

"Again!" Bagley thundered. My hand moved before I could think. This time, the bullet hit his chest where his heart was. The man fell. Blue energy seeped from his skin and into my nostrils. I inhaled it all. The fear inside me faded, replaced with an overwhelming euphoria.

The other man started backing away, his eyes wide with terror. "Please no, no please—I have an old mum at home."

"Kill him," Bagley said. It wasn't a command this time, more like a suggestion. One I was happy to take. I emptied the entire magazine into his body, and he dropped dead.

His soul entered my body, and euphoria flooded my brain. It felt so good that I craved more. I wanted to kill again to feel this rush. I scanned the area like a savage beast hunting prey, but the park was empty except for the two corpses.

"Tame it. Control your feelings quickly. People must have heard those shots. They'll be swarming here soon. You need to leave. Drop the gun and take the handkerchief with you."

I didn't want to listen to Bagley; the urge to ignore him was overpowering. But my sanity—or maybe my last shred of humanity—won over my bloodthirsty desire, and I regained my senses. Though in hindsight, maybe that was a mistake. Because as soon as I saw the corpses and the blood splattered on my hands, I collapsed to my knees, wheezing and crying.

"I-I didn't do this, y-you m-made m-me."

Bagley's slap across my face rang in the air, though only I could hear it. But the sting felt real. I touched my cheek where his hand had left a mark.

"Get yourself together, Zakir Osman. People will be arriving soon. You need to leave this place. Take your handkerchief and go; we can talk about this when we get home."

I nodded weakly, grabbed the handkerchief, stuffed it into my pocket, and broke into a sprint toward the other side of the park as I heard voices approaching. Once out of the park, Bagley guided me on blending in with the crowd—how to keep my head down and walk casually. He told me to stick to narrow roads and avoid the main streets on the way back home.

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When I finally reached home, I was lucky to find the key in the mailbox. My hands were shaking as I unlocked the door. I didn't want to knock and risk someone seeing the blood on me. Questions would arise.

I slipped into the hallway and crept upstairs, sneaking into my bedroom without a sound. Once inside, I beelined to the bathroom to wash off the blood. I scrubbed my hands with soap over and over, maybe ten times, until all traces were gone.

My clothes didn't have any stains, but I sprayed them with perfume, just in case someone might smell the blood. Then I tossed them into the washing machine without delay.

I unfolded the handkerchief and stared at it. My fingerprints were all over it. "Burn it," Bagley ordered, and I didn't hesitate. I grabbed a lighter from my dad's room, set the cloth on fire, and dumped the ashes into my trash bin. Finally, I sank onto my bed.

"Not bad for your first real kill," he said with a chilling grin.

"Fuck you," I snapped. Fury was bubbling up inside of me. "You made me do it. You made me kill those people."

"I believe the words you're looking for are 'thank you' for saving your life."

"Saving my life? Unbelievable. You turned me into a murderer, Bagley. A murderer. I killed people today. Sure, they weren't innocent, but they were still people. I took their lives. That's on me. If I'd just given them the money, none of this would've happened. They would've let me go."

Bagley laughed like I'd just told the world's funniest joke. "Let you go did they? Did they promise you that while pointing a gun at your face? What guarantee did you have they'd let you walk away? What leverage did you have against them, Zak?"

I bit my lip. I had nothing to say, and Bagley knew it.

"Zero.” He pressed on. “You had zero leverage, Zak. And no one was there to save you. You were all alone, at their mercy."

"But still, you could've told me how to knock them out or something. That would've been better than killing them."

He laughed like a madman, eyes gleaming with a twisted delight. "Do you hear yourself? Incapacitate them? When was the last time you were in a fight, Zak? When did you last break someone's bones or even throw a proper punch? How many fighting moves do you actually know? How many martial skills have you mastered? Have you ever beaten anyone in a duel? Face it—you couldn't do anything because you're weak.."

He leaned in close. I didn't back down. "You're weak, Zak," he repeated, each word sharp and cutting. "And that's exactly why you had to kill him. Because mercy is a luxury only the strong can afford. The weak have only two choices: life or death."

He jabbed a finger into my chest, his words dripping with venom. " Remember this, Zak. The weak can't change anything. You were too weak to stand against Lucas, and too weak to find another way out of this mess."

I stood up, anger boiling inside me. "Enough. This ends now. Leave. Back to wherever you came from. Your Lord chose me to be an Apostle, but I don't want it anymore. I reject him, and I reject you. Leave."

Bagley tutted. "It doesn't work like that, Zak. Once I'm inside your body, your mind, I become part of you. Like a parasite. I exist in your brain. If you try to remove me or ask the system to get rid of me, you'll die. If you don't believe me, go ahead and test it."

I clenched my fists but decided to test it anyway.

I want Bagley or X10 gone, and I want the system gone as well, I mentally communicated to the system.

System Message: If the user wishes to uninstall model X10 and the system, a deletion process will be initiated which will not guarantee the user's survival. Survival chance (%): 2

Bagley peeked over my shoulder at the message. "Seems like you've got a slightly better chance than I thought."

I looked up at him, my jaw tight. "Fine. If you won't leave, then I won't kill anyone. I won't do it, no matter how much you want me to or force me, or even hurt me in the process. I won't kill anyone."

Bagley sighed deeply. "I knew you'd say that, Zak. You're so... predictable. That's why I made a small change within the system. Take a look at your profile."

Profile:

Name: Zakir Osman

Class: Apostle of the Death Lord.

Lesser Souls: 1

Normal Souls: 2

Greater Souls:

Absorbed Souls:

Abilities:

Time till death: 23hrs

"What's 'Time Till Death'?" I asked, my voice shaky.

"It means exactly what it says," he replied. "Time till your death. Meaning If you don't kill someone in the next 24 hours, you die."

I stood there, trying to process his words. This couldn't be happening. How did it come to this? My mind raced, searching for some way out. Panic started to set in. Was there no escape? He looked back at me; his eyes showed he was as cornered as I was.

"Stop looking at me like that, Zak," he snapped. "You left me no choice. We're connected now. Your life is tied to mine, and I'll do whatever it takes to survive... anything."