Dual System: Ascension of A Nameless Nobody

169 The Contenders of Mankind



In that moment, he looked forward with wide eyes–clutching his blades as the rage and grief took form in the intent to kill as he dashed forward.

“You…!” Baek-Hyeon looked up.

Before the angelic man could return to his feet, he watched as the vermilion-haired assassin had sprinted past him, lifting up the bound girl and hopping off of the centipede before rushing away.

The urge to kill ran through his veins like a vengeful magma, pounding his heart to a thump of rage, but in this night of nothing but loss, he chose not to allow any further death.

Jeong-Hui had chosen not to kill, or rather–he knew this was the smarter option.

Even if he was injured, outside of “Devil Slaying Hour”…I wouldn’t stand a chance! He thought. Traveling into the distance, Baek-Hyeon stood on top of his centipede steed, holding his bloodied chest as many wounds were on his body. He simply swatted away the azure flames as he looked on.

“Well done, Jeong-Hui. I greatly underestimated you…However, once we meet again, I will not make the same mistake,” Baek-Hyeon promised, watching on while moving away.

He got a safe distance away, looking back as the centipede and the man riding on top of it became distant before he stopped, quickly unbinding the golden ropes from the girl.

“I’ve got you!” He assured her.

The moment Eunji was freed, they immediately embraced with a hug, both taken aback by the close encounter with death each had shared.

“…I was so scared…!” Eunji told him.

“I know…” He said.

In truth, he was as well. It was only after the encounter itself had passed that he realized how much his heart ached from placing himself near such death.

“Jeong-Hui…?” Eunji said his name quietly, pulling away.

“Yeah?”

“You’re shaking…”

He noticed this as well as he looked down at the hands they held the daggers, noticing his hands were trembling.

It took him a moment of looking at his quivering hands to realize it wasn’t the residual fear of the encounter, but something else entirely–relief, excitement, joy–something at a time like this he was foreign to.

This feeling originated from a fact he had just then realized as he clenched his fists tightly shut.

Kamou…Did you see that? I did it. I changed it–this time, I wasn’t helpless…I saved her, he thought, looking up as tears strolled down his cheeks..

It felt to him as if the threads of fate had been spun into a new path, leading him to a fresh, untouched destination: a feeling of accomplishment. The bitter taste of loss still found its way to his tongue, but amidst such loss, he saved something.

“Jeong-Hui?!” Eunji looked at him in surprise.

“What is it? Oh…That’s embarrassing,” he said, wiping his own tears away.

But, he realized the hazel-haired girl was looking towards his abdomen, pointing at it as she adjusted her round glasses.

“…It’s not that–you’re wounded!” Eunji said frantically.

“Oh…”

Before he could have any say in it, the young woman he had just saved was already repaying the favor as they both laughed.

“You’re too reckless…” Eunji said quietly while keeping the healing waves close to his wound.

He smiled, “Nothing is too reckless when it comes to saving somebody else.”

Those words are ones that took Eunji by surprise as she looked up at him, seeing the melancholic look in his bright, emerald eyes before quickly looking back down as she tended to the wound.

“That’s…a dangerous mindset.”

“Is it?…I would’ve given everything to have it just a few months ago.”

It seemed with the state Baek-Hyeon was in, it forced him to de-manifest Gumiho, leaving the creature to disperse into particles as Korain’s blade missed, smacking into the asphalt below.

“Huh?” Korain let out in confusion.

The group gathered around the street, lowering their guard as the immense fox vanished without hardly a trace.

“Jeong-Hui!” Ma-Ri rushed over.

She looked surprised, but at the same time–relieved. It was the most emotion he had ever seen from her.

After a half hour had passed, Yeong-Un and Sol took it upon themselves to find the bodies of their fallen comrades within the rubble, bringing them to the street, wrapped in the dusty sheets they could find from the land of debris.

Eunji was given some words by Korain, some telling of how worried he was, and some scolding her for allowing herself to be captured.

With his job finally done, he collapsed onto the ground on his rear, catching his breath as exhaustion set in full-force.

“…Idiot…” Ma-Ri said quietly.

“Huh?” He looked up at her.

Ma-Ri sat beside him, “Nothing. Good job…Just…you should value your life more.”

“What’s this coming from?” He asked in surprise.

“…From somebody that hardly values her own life. But, I’ve got a lot on my shoulders now…” Ma-Ri said.

They both looked around at the members of Gangcheori, which had been culled by more than half by the terrible night.

“Yeah…” He said.

“I’ll need you. I mean…you’re invaluable as a fighter and as a comrade. So, stay alive, would you?” Ma-Ri told him.

He looked at her in surprise for a bit before smiling just a bit, “I’ll do my best.”

With the night reaching its end, the Final Culling had shown its fangs; Gangcheori had suffered a loss like no other.

That night, Gangcheori had lost. But, all they could do now was count those that made it out as a victory in itself.

But, the opening of the Tower was now but a step away.

(Funeral Scene for all fallen members – Dosan park; where Kamou and the others were buried as well. Mirror the scene of Jeong-Hui and Dae-Seong’s talk. Ma-Ri will watch how Jeong-Hui consoles Yeong-Un with Binna.

Jeong-Hui gets punched by Yeong-Un, but he understands it’s just Yeong-Un venting in his own way)

(THIS BELOW – Dae-Seong and Jeong-Hui scene)

(Dae-Seong himself had helped settle his fallen comrades into the melancholic field, wiping the dirt off of his hands as he momentarily removed his glasses.

“Jeong-Hui.”

“–“

“It is important that you don’t let this bring you to a stop,” Dae-Seong told him, “I know how it feels; the light of hope has dwindled, and an immeasurable darkness veils your sight–but, even so, you have to move forward.”

“I know that,” he replied quietly without looking at the man.

Dae-Seong looked up towards the rainy sky, pouring down from the abundant, ever present clouds that hid the stars.

“It’s one thing to know, but it’s another to understand. Just telling yourself to move forward won’t be enough. Every day your own mind will test your conviction and resolve, you’ll ponder “what-ifs”…that’s why just telling yourself isn’t enough,” Dae-Seong told him.

He finally looked at the man, seeing the deeply-seeded pain and experience that laid in those eyes, tucked behind the veil of his lenses.

It was clear to him that the silver-haired leader spoke from a place of experience, and of care.

“How do I understand it, then?” He asked

The rain came down harder as the ambience of the cloud’s grievances pelting against the many leaves around them filled his ears.

“I can’t answer that for you,” Dae-Seong spoke patiently to him, looking at the flowers that signified the graves of the young man’s companions, “but, I found my reason to move forward initially through spite.”

Across the world, with the coming of the “Final Culling” and the opening of the illustrious, enigmatic “Tower” approaching, those that have survived up until this point looked upon the destination shared by all across the desolated world.

[In The Ruins of Shenzhen, China]

Standing atop a highrise building, overlooking the city overtaken by desolation, a man dressed in a sleeveless, brown-and-black uniform with silver decorations watched the crimson horizon.

Behind him were two others, though they watched his broad back rather than the hell-torn sky above.

“It’s soon,” the white-haired man with sparkly, but powerful, magenta eyes said.

“What is, Sir Guozhi?” The woman asked.

When the brunette woman spoke to the man, she referred to him almost in reverence as he stood with his muscular, bare arms crossed over his chest.

“The opening of the ‘Tower’,” the man answered, looking at the Tower that stood in the distance.

By all means, he was an imposing figure; standing just around two meters tall with an athletic build, yet a beautiful appearance in the princely, soft features he had.

[Guozhi | Level 42 | Xianxia System]

[In The Ruins of Hokkaido, Japan]

“Things are about to get real jazzy!”

As the eccentric man stood on the verdant mountaintop, he moved his arms out in splendor as the jewelry he wore jingled.

Around his neck, wrists, and even the piercings on his nose, ears, and lip were jewelry of a unique appearance; it was as if they bore the essence of the cosmos themselves–holding the sparkle of stars and the nebulas of creation, constantly moving in the lively jewels.

He stood alone on the brisk summit with his arms stretched out, looking towards the tower with sparkling eyes that resembled the azure skies.

“Soon enough, I’ll be able to meet all of the jazzy people that have made it this far! I bet they’ll be splendid!” The man called out with his booming voice echoing through the natural valley.

He wore a plaid blue-and-gray scarf with a matching, short-sleeved sweatshirt and pants that hardly resembled the uniform of an [Equip], yet it very much was.

He was facing the ivory Tower that stood in the distance, looming at the center of everybody’s own perception.

[Tsukikage | Level 39 | Celestial Forger System]

He pointed towards the tower with his fingernails, which were all painted different colors, bestowing a promise from his athletic, well-built self:

“I’ll meet you there, everybody! Just you wait–the “Dazzling God, Tsukikgae” is coming!” He laughed, announcing with vigor.

[In the ruins of Madurai, India]

Despite the state of the world, the illustrious, divine Koodal Azhagar Temple still stood in complete perfection. It was structured with a shorter height, in a pyramidal shape with the revered deity, Vishnu, displayed on its forefront.

Standing there with his hands held together in a respectful prayer, a dark-skinned man stood before the temple entrance in reverence, surrounded by granite walls.

“Give me strength, Lord Vishnu,” the man with well-kempt, crimson hair spoke calmly.

[Mallan | Level 43 | Divine Authority System]

As he said his prayer, the man, dressed in light-azure leather garments, covered by sparse chainmail and a white mantle over his shoulders and upper torso, opened his focused, platinum eyes as fiends climbed over the walls.

“If you choose to bring violence to sacred grounds, then I’ll punish you accordingly,” Mallan said, raising his hand upward as the seal inscribed on the back of his dark-brown hand took to a vibrant glow, “Authority: Karna.”

Calling upon his unique ability, an illustrious bow manifested into his seal-bearing hand as he wielded it, pulling the divine string back as an astral arrow manifested by the simple action.

He aimed it towards the red-furred demon that lunged towards him, swiftly releasing the string as not just one, but a dozen arrows launched forward–piercing the fiend many times over.

“Worthless,” Mallan said quietly.

As the second of these beasts tried to attack him from behind, he swiftly spun around, drawing the string back and launching a grand arrow through its torso, boring a hole through it effortlessly.

Finishing the two fiends off, his gaze fell onto the Tower placed in the distance, reaching past the crimson clouds.

“Soon…This needless bloodshed will cease on the holy grounds,” Mallan spoke to himself.

[In The Ruins of Dallas, Texas, The United States of America]

“–And another one down!”

A well-built woman wearing a full-set of emerald armor without any sleeves but gauntlets around her hands slammed her fist down, caving in the head of the unfortunate imp that crossed her path.

She had flowing, silver hair kept into a pixie cut with vibrant, pink eyes as she smiled from the violent act.

“More hat than cattle, that one,” the woman said, raising her blood-soaked gauntlet from the extinguished imp.

[Arnia Jones | Level 40 | Brawler System]

Around the abandoned town, there were many small, nimble imps crawling along the buildings and ransacking cars for whatever little trinkets they could get their grubby hands on.

“I’m fixin’ to squash a few more, whaddya’ say?” Arnia looked back at the members of her group.

“Let’s get ‘er done!” One man with a straw in his mouth, wearing overalls over his lumberjack shirt, obliged, raising his giant greatsword.

Around the world, many still thrived in the apocalypse, not giving in to the seemingly hopeless trial that was placed before them.

These were the people destined to reach the “Tower”–which would soon, would be opened.


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