Micah ducked to the side and threw his jacket over Rego’s face. Rego tried to grab the jacket and tear it off his head. But before he could, Micah had already stepped behind Rego and grabbed the jacket.

While pulling on the jacket, preventing Rego from regaining his sight and choking him at the same time, Micah quickly tied the two jacket arms together. It made it even more difficult for Rego to get rid of it, especially after Micah kicked him into the charging Bunt, who proceeded to shove Rego aside. Bunt probably didn’t mean any harm, but Rego, who had lost both his vision and balance, couldn’t handle Bunt’s shove and fell to the ground, face first.

Bunt threw a glance as he noticed how he accidentally pushed Rego to the ground. The loss of concentration was fatal. When Bunt looked back at Micah, the only thing he saw was the dull shine of the metal spoon’s handle right as it pierced his eye.

“Ahhh!”

Overcome with pain, Bunt screamed as he clutched his eye and sank to the ground. However, he wasn’t safe since Micah had no intentions of ending things there.

“Rego was right. I am curious about what happens when you die in Hell.”

With those words, Micah grabbed Bunt by his short, dark hair and brought his lowered head to meet his knee.

But Micah’s knee didn’t strike Bunt’s head directly. A spoon blocked his way. Bunt hadn’t managed to pull it out due to the excruciating pain. Micah’s knee met the spoon lodged in Bunt’s eye, and since his knee was obviously more powerful than Bunt’s soft eye, the end result was imaginable.

Bunt collapsed to the ground with as much as a groan.

“Bunt?”

Rego had managed to attain a sitting position and was in the process of ripping the jacket off his head as quickly as possible due to the scream he heard from Bunt.

“Talk to me, Bunt. What’s going on?”

Micah walked over to Rego and pushed him back down on the ground as he helped him take the jacket off.

“Nothing much. Just taking a look at what happens when someone dies. Here, have a look for yourself.”

Micah took off the jacket and pulled up Rego’s face. Since he lay on his stomach, it was less than comfortable. But it wasn’t as painful as his bloody and probably broken nose. There was also the fact that his companion lay dead on the ground a meter away from him. Rego didn’t really have the leeway to care about how Micah held his head up or how uncomfortable the knee on his back felt.

“Ah, fuck.”

After letting Rego look at Bunt and even letting him swear, Micah dropped his head back on the ground as he took a seat on Rego’s back.

“So, what happens now?”

Since Micah rested his hand on Rego’s head, he had a little trouble answering. But he knew that he had been quite thoroughly subdued. And Micah obviously didn’t have any qualms about killing. Rego was reluctant, but he still grumbled an answer through his lips pressed against the ground.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“It depends. Since Bunt didn’t have much pol, his body will be surrounded by fog before coming back to life in a while.”

“I see. And what happens if you have a lot of pol?”

“Also depends.”

“On…?”

Micah crossed his legs and rubbed Rego’s head a little to encourage him to speak with more detail.

“Urghmf.”

“Oh, sorry. Can you speak now?”

Micah let up some of the pressure on Rego’s head.

“Ugh. Fucking bast- Mmf.”

“That’s not what I want to hear, Rego. I thought we were friends. Don’t friends answer each other’s questions?”

Micah gave the ground a good rub using Rego’s head before giving him another chance.

“And why-”

Since Rego was so stubborn, Micah used a little more force and slammed Rego’s head against the hard ground of packed red stonish dirt. However, Rego’s face wasn’t red because of the ground. It was because of the blood running from his nose and the scrapes he got from Micah’s treatment.

“Fine!”

“There we go.”

Micah let go of Rego’s head to let him breathe and spit out the blood in his mouth before answering.

“What happens after you die depends on how much pol you have, how you died, and if you have an innate ability. That’s all I know.”

“Hmm. Surprisingly simple. The circumstances of your death affect your resurrection. What happens with your pol when you die, then?”

“Some of it is taken by Hell when restoring your body.”

“And the rest?”

“If you’re lucky, you get to keep it.”

“And if not?”

Micah could feel Rego’s reluctance to answer, and he started moving his hand toward Rego’s head again. He moved slowly to give Rego a few moments to answer. Rego felt Micah’s hand move and decided that he preferred answering instead of having the answer forced out of him.

“The bastard who killed you takes it.”

“Splendid.”

Micah got up and dusted off his jacket before draping it over his arm.

“Stay put if you want to live.”

Rego grunted in response. But he didn’t move and kept lying on the ground, his ears red from shame.

“How much pol does he need to resurrect?”

It was obvious that Micah meant Bunt, but now that Micah wasn’t sitting on his back, Rego began feeling rebellious.

“Who?”

“If you keep that up, it’s going to be you.”

Micah didn’t let Rego’s attitude bother him, and he bent over Bunt and started searching through his pockets.

“Five coins is enough for a restoration.”

“I see.”

Micah proceeded to empty out all of Bunt’s pockets and scraped together a total of fifteen coins.

Rego saw what he did.

“Hey! He needs at least five to restore his body!”

“So?”

“So?! If you take it all, his restoration won’t be complete!”

Micah smiled at Rego.

“I see. What I don’t see is how that is my problem.”

Micah stood up and dusted off his pants before walking over to Rego and crouching down again.

“You know what. I’ll leave you with five coins if you want to help your friend.”

“W-what! How am I supposed to last then?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You did eat that food, after all. You’ll be fine.”

Rego looked at Micah in shock.

“H-how did you know?”