Chapter 66: The Big Boner, Part 3

The black sword dealt with two more of those winged demons in the air. It not only tore their skin and flesh, it went a step further. He had always been skeptical about the existence of the soul, but he supposed that if they had devoured something else, it was that. Wait, those inhuman demons possessed souls.

Sylvester laughed.

So, they weren't of much use in the first place.

Well, it wasn't worth overthinking things. Wasn't it enough to trust what his own eyes saw? After all, that energy twisted in the corpses of those monsters even after inflicting the mortal wound. And although nothing had changed physically, he had the unmistakable feeling that something was missing.

So why overthink it? Somehow or other the winged demons were also worthy of possessing a soul. Well, in the first place, humanity wasn't worthy of much.

They had screwed up the world even before the Lunar Remnants arrived, that was the damn truth.

Moreover...

His head already hurt enough. He really didn't need more headaches.

He contemplated the idea of dropping the sword and reaching for his usual katana, but he quickly forgot about it. It was natural. For starters, he didn't know why it had occurred to him. This was a sword, but it had a long-range attack. With his katana, it would be incredibly annoying to deal with the winged demons.

Why would he metaphorically tie his hands behind his back?

Indeed. He wasn't playing. He was fighting to defend the Earth, the fate of humanity!

However...

"Test my great erection!"

Moving his hips, he sent another wave of dark energy into the skies. And he laughed. He attacked while laughing. He couldn't stop. He wouldn't have air to talk, even if he had something to decide, from so much laughing.

However?

However what?

What was strange about this?

He was in a bad situation and using the best tool at his disposal to fix things. That was all. Wasn't that how the sword worked?

And the laughter? What about the laughter?

Well...

"What's wrong with enjoying your job!"

Contradicting even his own thoughts, Sylvester gathered enough air to shout wildly.

The demons didn't respond. They kept coming at him in silence. What did those inhuman creatures know of pleasure? Or duty, for that matter. What were they going to say?

Of course, they couldn't say anything, and he didn't need them to.

One of the winged demons got too close. He managed to grab him from the shoulder to the elbow. Deep, bleeding scratches... Too easy. He had hurt him too easily, hadn't he?

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What are you talking about? It's the same as always. A desperate fight. A fight against the ropes. Of course, the next enemy is more powerful than the last.

Of course, there's nothing but trouble, corner after corner after corner after corner.

That's how life works.

Counterattack.

He struck the demon with the hilt of the sword, and its head exploded like a ripe melon. The light kept shining brightly even after it touched the ground, of that there was no doubt that it was dead, however. An ethereal light. A light from another world.

The light of the flames of hell?

Sylvester shouted wildly as he stomped on the demon's chest, smashing it. It was unnecessary. The creature was already dead. But he absolutely didn't care.

The important thing was that it was within his reach. The important thing was that... he enjoyed it, and since it was for the sake of saving the world, everything was allowed. He could be the worst trash on the face of the earth, but his acts would always be applauded as long as they were against the enemies.

It was natural. It was the most obvious thing in the world.

Everything could be forgiven since everything was at stake.

He smiled. He had never drawn such a wide smile. Like that of a wild animal, showing all his teeth.

One of the demons set fire to the trench coat with its mouth, with that damn light that also burned his retinas. Sylvester clenched his teeth. He threw himself to the ground, writhing, trying to put it out. Nothing.

He gave up quickly, removing the trench coat, throwing it off the rooftop.

I am the hero who will save the world. And you... you are nothing but animals.

That was the truth. He could shout it from the fucking rooftops! Despite this thing having a long-range attack, Sylvester bent his knees and jumped, covering ten meters in an instant. As if he had been shot from a cannon. He landed on one of the winged demons.

He planted his boots on its twisted wings and plunged the sword into its back. Then, he pushed toward it. He dragged the sword across its back, splitting it in half.

Strange guts and a multicolored fluid that must be its blood spilled copiously.

Confetti, he thought, delirious. It's like it's confetti.

And he was bathing in it. A big party just for him. The supposed demons were the hired clowns. He couldn't help but think about those little cars from which somehow or another an army of clowns emerged.

Sylvester laughed again. His laughter had something less wild, however. It was a normal laugh simply because something had amused him, and that seemed the strangest thing of all amid this chaos.

As the dead demon fell from the sky, Sylvester propelled himself back, did a full turn in the air, and landed back on the rooftop.

Without problems.

They pounced on him immediately.

The light from the demons burned. Their claws were sharper than anything. Combined with their numerical advantage, they were dangerous opponents. And what? a cold voice replied within him.

Sylvester was untouchable.

He would survive as he always had. He had always been destined to survive, no matter what. He was the central piece. The protagonist of this sad senseless madness.

The show must go on!

And without him, the show couldn't go on.

It's not that he couldn't die due to his incredible regenerative capabilities. That was just the excuse that allowed what had to happen to happen. It had taken him years, but he finally understood it.

So he threw himself among the winged demons, opening his mouth as wide as they did, matching their screams, and attacking. Nothing more than attacking. He didn't use even one percent of his being to defend himself.

Anyway, they fell quickly.

In the blink of an eye, he stood in a sea of blood and guts.

As usual.

But beyond the red curtain, something changed. Something drastic, nothing would ever be the same. Ryan and the others arrived at the scene, but not to support. He knew with the first glance. For someone like him, accustomed to this kind of thing, it was simple.

"Betrayed. You've betrayed me. Even you, Heather. Even you." A tear welled up in his eyes, but he kept laughing incessantly. "Even though I gave myself to you. Even though I... revealed myself. Betrayed. Fine, alone again, I accept it! Don't think my hand will tremble! What's more, I'll enjoy it!"

Sylvester finally left the rooftop. He jumped, landing in the middle of the road. The shockwave cracked the ground and displaced the cars, some more slowly than others. Cars of— (police?) what kind? It doesn't matter. Sylvester directed his sword towards his former allies.

The Big Boner, Part 3: FIN