"Damn it! This place is HUGE! It's like a freakin' maze in here!" the dark blue-haired guy shouted, his voice echoing down the endless corridors.
His glowing red eyes darted around nervously. Yep, totally lost. "Ugh, stupid furball…"
Murphy—because yes, that was his name—paced down hallway after hallway, only to end up… right back where he started.
"Seriously? AGAIN?" he groaned, slumping against a wall like a defeated snack.
Suddenly, the faint clack clack clack of footsteps approached—lots of them.
"Oh no. This can't be good."
Before he could blink, Murphy found himself surrounded by a dozen soldiers, all brandishing sharp, intimidating weapons.
"Uh… hey guys! Cookies? Anyone want cookies?" Murphy blurted out, even though he definitely did not have any cookies on him.
Every soldier pointed their blades directly at his face. Ouch.
"Whoa! Hold up! Hold up!" Murphy held up his hands like he was defusing a bomb.
"Can those sharp things cut… chilies? I know a guy who's a cooking genius! Imagine the curry we could make!"
He forced a nervous grin. "This ginormous palace has to have a kitchen somewhere, right? Right??"
The soldiers stepped closer, blades gleaming and all business.
Murphy swallowed hard. "Okay, maybe not the best opening line…"
"HELP!" Murphy screamed like a man on fire.
"I don't wanna die a virgin! So someone—ANYONE—please unvirgin me right now!!"
He raised his hands dramatically to the sky. "And when I say right now, I mean RIGHT. NOW!"
A voice, calm and disturbingly casual, cut through the tension. "I'll do it."
The crowd of soldiers paused and instinctively made way. And then, she appeared.
A girl with bright pink hair and matching eyes walked in with the confidence of a final boss and the chest of a flat wooden table. And she was proud of it.
Murphy's first reaction wasn't fear—it was laughter.
"Heh," he snorted. "Who's up for cutting chilies? Looks like we found the chopping board."
The girl kept walking, unbothered. But the moment Murphy met her eyes, something hit.
A power surged through her gaze that sent shivers down his spine.
Reflexively, he turned his face away and slipped on his trusty glasses like a man dodging a sniper.
"Oh?" the girl smirked. "Trying to act cool with your glasses now?"
"First of all—who the fuck are you?" Murphy snapped. "Second—where the fuck are we?"
"And third—I'm not fucking with you" he added dramatically, pointing at her like a courtroom anime character.
She giggled. "Hehehe, you're a funny one."
Murphy crossed his arms with the swagger of a backup dancer stealing the spotlight.
"Yeah well, the goofy main character just went serious mode. Guess that makes me the comic relief character now."
"Is that so? Alrighty then." The girl stretched like she'd just woken up from a nap, cracking her back with a casual pop.
"My name's Carina, and I'm a succubus~"
Murphy blinked.
She barely reached his chest in height. And her chest? Flat as the world before people discovered gravity.
Not at all the seductive, voluptuous demon woman Murphy had imagined from, uh... educational material.
"Succubus, huh…" Murphy muttered, squinting like he was trying to spot the lie.
Okay, sure, her clothes were definitely in the "sin now, repent never" category, but still...
"Oh? You don't believe me?" Carina puffed out her cheeks in a pout, the least threatening pout in history.
"Hey, you guys! Bring me some random soldiers!"
One of the soldiers jumped to obey, running off like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment.
"Wow," Murphy said, clearly impressed.
"Must be great being a captain. Just shout orders and poof—people go fetch you new toys."
"Hm? But I'm a soldier too, y'know?" Carina said cheerfully.
Murphy's brain froze for a second.
"Wait... so they're following orders from a fellow soldier? Just like that? No questions asked?" He stared off into space, a suspicious glint in his eye.
"Is… is that their fetish or something?"
Carina tilted her head. "Hm?"
Murphy nodded solemnly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm not here to judge fetishes, I swear—" He paused.
"Actually, wait. That's a lie. I love making fun of them."
"You'll find out soon enough," Carina said with a mischievous grin.
Right on cue, a couple of soldiers dragged in another poor soul—an armored man flailing like he'd just seen the bill for microtransactions in a gacha game.
"Nooo! Carina, please!" the man screamed, digging his heels into the floor like a terrified toddler at the dentist.
"Shhh, calm down, sweetie." Carina leaned in with a sultry gaze. "Love me~"
The soldier immediately turned his face away like she was holding a tax form. Unfortunately, his buddies had other plans.
They grabbed his head, forcibly turning it back toward Carina. One of them even pried his eyes open like this was a live demo at a cursed optometry convention.
"NO! I—!"
Three seconds later, the screaming stopped.
Dead silence.
And then...
"Carina... Love... Carina... Love..." the soldier muttered, stumbling forward like a love-struck zombie.
Murphy, who had been watching this like it was the weirdest soap opera of his life, blinked. "Okay, WHAT the hell did you just do?!"
"I brainwashed him, obviously," Carina replied, twirling her hair like it was no big deal.
Murphy's jaw hit the floor so fast it nearly filed for workers' comp.
"I've got special eyes," Carina continued proudly.
"Anyone who stares into them for three seconds falls in love with me~!"
She added with a wink, "Though for full hypnosis, I need a bit of physical contact. Y'know, touchy-touchy."
She beamed. "Cool, right?"
Murphy's eyes twitched. That ability… it was oddly familiar. Too familiar.
"Wait… You seriously just explained your superpower to your enemy? Do people like you exist outside of dumb novel plots?!"
Carina pouted. "Aw, come on! That's rude!"
"You're quite handsome, y'know! But if you keep being rude, your handsomeness might vanish!"
Carina said with a dramatic pout, complete with sparkly eye.
Murphy stared at her like she'd just said she eats soup with a fork.
"What. The. Actual. Fuck?"
He physically recoiled, making the international face of "I've just tasted spoiled milk."
Carina coughed into her fist like a disappointed idol.
"A-Anyway! I'm still a girl, okay?! I don't just hypnotize anyone! I have standards, you know!"
She puffed her chest out proudly—though honestly, the effect was more "flattening a pancake with pride."
"And because you're, like, kinda cute, I've decided!" she announced. "You're going to be a captain like me one day!"
"Sorry," Murphy deadpanned, "I'm more of a 'mow the lawn in silence while thinking about death' kinda guy. Gardener vibes."
But then, Carina's mood flipped like a switch. Her playful expression darkened, and her eyes gleamed with something dangerous.
"However… the fact that you immediately slapped on those sunglasses after barely two seconds of eye contact…"
She stepped closer, her tone low.
"You could feel the power of these eyes… couldn't you?"
Her gaze narrowed like a predator's. "Tell me… do you have eyes like mine too?"
The answer, of course, was yes. Obviously. Big yes. Flashbacks, secret lore, and dramatic violin music level of "yes."
"No," Murphy replied without missing a beat.
He scoffed, adjusting his sunglasses with the flair of a man who just dodged a confession and a death flag at the same time.
"And even if I did… I wouldn't tell you. I like living."
As long as he had these shades on, her powers couldn't touch him.
"Fashion and function. Take that, demon eyeballs."
"You're no fun at all! Ugh, fine! I'll figure it out myself!" Carina huffed, flashing a mischievous grin.
Then, her eyes drifted toward the group of soldiers she'd just brainwashed.
"Anyway... who brought this eyesore?" she asked, casually pointing at the dazed man standing awkwardly beside her.
One of the soldiers raised his hand timidly. "It was me... honey," he said with a smile.
Carina blinked. "Seriously? Why'd you pick an ugly one?"
"Sorry, honey... you said to grab someone random, so I just went with the nearest guy," the soldier stammered.
"Ugh! At least get someone decent-looking! You're my subordinate—you should know my standards! How can you not know that?!"
Murphy, watching the scene unfold from the sidelines, muttered under his breath, "...This bitch is nuts."
Without missing a beat, Carina pointed at the soldier. "Go kill yourself."
"Understood. Really sorry... honey," the soldier said solemnly.
"Don't you dare call me 'honey.'" Her eyes turned icy. "Kill yourself. Now."
Without another word, the soldier obediently impaled himself with a spear and collapsed on the spot.
Carina turned to the remaining soldiers with a sigh. "And you, ugly soilders kill yourself too."
"And if you call me something gross like 'sweetie' or 'baby,' I'll kill your ghost."
He hesitated for a moment... but then dragged a blade across his own neck. Silence followed.
"You all stay away, and some of you take their bodies with you!" After Carina ordered, they immediately followed what she said.
And after only the two of them were left, the atmosphere became more intense.
"There's something I want to ask," Murphy said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at her.
"Oh? You won't answer my question, but now you want to ask me something?" Carina raised an eyebrow, folding her arms.
"I can get mad too, y'know?"
Murphy let out a low sigh. "Ugh, fine… I'll explain my ability later."
"Promise?" she asked, holding out her pinky with a bright, expectant smile.
Murphy blinked, caught off guard by her sudden enthusiasm. "…Uh, yeah. Sure."
But Carina didn't budge—still smiling, still holding her pinky in the air.
"I'm not linking pinkies with you," Murphy said flatly.
"Aww, man! You got me." Carina pouted and dropped her hand. "You're not the type who falls for simple tricks, huh?"
Of course not. Murphy wouldn't touch her—not even a graze.
He already knew one of the conditions for falling under her hypnosis was physical contact.
"So…" he asked, changing the subject, "why didn't that first soldier hesitate when you told him to kill himself?"
"But the second one—he hesitated. Why's that?"
"Oh, that?" Carina gave a small shrug. "Once they're brainwashed, the longer they stay around me, the stronger it gets."
"The first guy was practically simmering in it. The second hadn't marinated enough."
"I see…" Murphy grinned slightly. "Makes sense."
"Okay then," Carina leaned forward a bit, curiosity gleaming in her pink eyes. "Your turn. Tell me about your power."
"Well, basically… I can sent karma onto anyone who attacks me," Murphy said with a casual shrug.
"And yeah, it works kinda like your eye ability. But with a twist."
"Oh? So attacking you is… dangerous?" Carina muttered, her gaze drifting downward.
"Yeah… pretty much—" Murphy smirked. Then added with mock interest, "—Hey, what's so fascinating about the floor?"
"No… that just means I need to make you fall in love with me before karma kicks in," Carina said with a sly smile.
A glowing gauntlet suddenly materialized around her hand.
"Okay, now I'm scared—where the hell did that come from?!" Murphy flinched, genuinely surprised.
Carina raised her arm confidently. "Alright, let's start this fight—" She paused mid-sentence, then blinked. "Uh… got a name?"
"Oh, right. I haven't told you yet. My bad." Murphy cleared his throat with an exaggerated sense of formality.
"My name is Murphy... the Wheel of Fortune."
Carina raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Wow. Fitting name for a guy who throws karma around."
"Yeah, yeah," Murphy muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Heh…" Carina smirked, her gauntlet pulsing faintly.
Carina dashed toward Murphy, her fist flying straight for his face—but with a calm tilt of his head, he dodged it with infuriating ease.
"Tch!" Not giving up, she aimed a punch toward his gut this time, but Murphy hopped back gracefully, widening the distance.
He wasn't just dodging—he was avoiding contact.
Again and again, Carina attacked, but every move was effortlessly evaded. Murphy's speed was simply too much.
"Ugh! You're such a stubborn man!" Carina growled, sprouting her not-so-large wings and launching herself into the air.
"—HUH?! WINGS?!" Murphy turned on his heels and bolted. "You're a real succubus, aren't you?!"
"What, did you think these wings were cosplay accessories?!" Carina caught up in a flash and yanked his pristine white jacket from behind.
"Holy shi—!" Murphy was caught.
In one swift motion, Carina spun him around, clasped both his hands tightly, and took off into the sky.
With gravity as her ally, she grinned. "Now you can't fight back. If you struggle, you'll fall~!"
Murphy twisted his body, trying to lean away, but their faces were already way too close.
Then he felt it.
A wet, slimy sensation slithered across his cheek.
She licked him.
Literally.
"Wha—ugh." Murphy's face twisted in absolute disgust. He looked like he'd just been betrayed by the gods.
"There. That counts as physical contact," Carina smirked. "Now, I can start making you fall in love with me~"
Murphy didn't say a word.
Instead, he pulled out one of the three glowing teleportation gems from his pocket—and crack! He shattered it.
In a flash of blue light, he vanished.
"H-Hey! You can teleport?!" Carina gasped, hovering in disbelief.
Reappearing safely on the ground, Murphy wiped his cheek with the back of his sleeve, visibly horrified. "I don't have a licking fetish, y'know..."
His red eyes glared up at her with pure, unfiltered disgust.
Carina landed hard and ripped off her wings, a cold fire blazing in her eyes.
Since Murphy had failed to avoid physical contact, it was time to get serious.
Without hesitation, Carina lunged forward, her fist cutting through the air.
But Murphy snatched her arm mid-swing-tight grip like iron-and drove a brutal elbow straight into her side.
Crack!
The hit sucked the air out of her lungs.
Before she could even recoil, his open palm slammed into her face, sending her stumbling sideways.
Blood sprayed from her lip as she caught herself, growling.
But she didn't wait.
She charged again.
Murphy met her recklessness with precision. He parried her punch effortlessly, sidestepped, and let her momentum carry her past him.
And then—THWACK!
His elbow crashed into the back of her skull like a hammer.
Carina staggered forward, teeth clenched, eyes spinning.
But as Murphy turned to follow up, a fist wreathed in steel smashed into his chest.
"GHK—!"
His ribs screamed in pain. The gauntlet she wore amplified the impact—each knuckle like a meteor slamming into his body.
He flew back, coughing violently.
Without wasting a second, Murphy leapt away, landing rough. Blood dripped from his mouth as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small glass vial.
He uncorked it with his teeth, downing just a sip.
The bitter liquid burned down his throat. It was a potion—handcrafted by Cathy herself.
He exhaled sharply as the pain dulled.
Strength returned to his limbs.
His eyes locked on Carina once more.
Carina launched her attack, but Murphy caught her wrist with iron grip.
Without missing a beat, he drove a sharp kick into her knee, forcing her to almost buckle.
Before she could steady herself, Murphy struck her gut with a savage blow, then finished with a brutal kick to the side of her back.
Carina crashed to the ground, pain radiating through her body—but her regeneration was fast.
Almost instantly, she sprang back up and charged, slamming Murphy hard against the cold wall.
She knelt over his stomach, raining vicious punches like a storm—but Murphy shoved her off with all his might, nearly knocking his sunglasses off his face.
"Hey! These glasses aren't cheap!" Murphy shot back.
"Heh! You won't be needing those soon enough!" Carina sneered and swung a brutal kick at his face—Murphy barely dodged in time.
Without warning, Carina shoved him into a narrow room, slammed the door shut, and locked it from the outside.
"Too bad, Carina. I'm not afraid of ghosts," Murphy smirked—until footsteps echoed around him.
When the door finally swung open, Murphy's jaw dropped.
A squad of soldiers stood before him—not in armor, but only wearing boxer shorts.
"Uh... I don't remember signing up for a boxer party," Murphy muttered, eyeing the absurd scene.
Carina hovered nearby, flashing a teasing smile. "I just don't want you to die, darling."
Murphy shut the door infront of him with a calm, deliberate motion.
He inhaled slowly... and exhaled even slower, as if preparing for carnage.
The moment broke when a soldier burst in—only to be caught by the head. Murphy gripped the man's skull like a vice.
Then slammed it into the floor with bone-cracking force.
Another soldier lunged with a flying kick. Murphy ducked under it in a fluid motion, lifted the man mid-air, and hurled him straight into the crowd like a ragdoll.
A third tried his luck-his head met the wall. Once. Twice. Again and again, until blood gushed from his temple like a ruptured faucet.
Two more stormed in, their movement cramped in the narrow room.
Murphy didn't fight them—he endured, tanking their strikes.
Then, in one brutal move, he rammed both of their bodies into the concrete wall, the impact echoing like thunder.
Before anyone else could interfere, he slammed the door shut behind them.
One of them struck again—Murphy caught the blow with his bare hand.
No words. Just silence... then crack—Murphy slammed his forehead into the man's face, sending him flying into his comrade.
Both slumped to the floor, unconscious. Only one remained, fists pounding relentlessly into Murphy's body. Murphy didn't move. Didn't block. Didn't flinch.
He was waiting.
And when he was pushed back-he took off his glasses... and looked the bastard straight in the eyes.
Three seconds passed.
The door creaked open again. A soldier stepped in, hurling a machete aimed at Murphy.
But fate had other plans.
The blade pierced the back of the last attacker's skull, sticking out like a grotesque crown. He collapsed, lifeless.
Murphy calmly put his glasses back on, pulled the blade from the corpse's head then stabbed it clean into the skull of the one who threw it.
Without a word, he dragged the limp body into the room.
Another soldier stormed back into the room, eyes wild with desperation. He lunged.
Murphy dropped his machete.
He didn't need it.
Bad move.
Murphy grabbed him by the collar and unleashed a storm of fists into his ribs, his gut, his face—blow after blow, each one thunderous and merciless.
The soldier became nothing more than a human punching bag, helpless under Murphy's barrage.
Then, with a final grunt, Murphy hurled his broken body across the room.
Lifeless.
The door creaked again.
This time, a soldier launched himself forward, slamming into Murphy and driving him to the far end of the room.
But Murphy's body didn't break-it retaliated.
With a savage elbow strike to the spine.
The soldier gasped, and his skull smashed into the wall seconds later.
His limp form was tossed atop the growing pile of bodies like trash.
Another attacker dashed toward him. Murphy side-stepped with eerie precision, and without hesitation, drove his elbow straight into the man's head-slamming it into the wall.
Crack.
The man dropped, groaning in agony.
Then the door closed behind them. A chilling silence fell.
The last soldier in the room stared at Murphy, his eyes wide. The fog of brainwashing from Carina seemed to lift.
And what he saw was Death itself holding a machete.
"P-please... have mercy!" the soldier begged, tears streaming down his face. "I have a family at home!"
Murphy's eyes didn't flinch.
"So do I."
Schlunk!
The blade pierced the soldier's skull cleanly.
And his body flew back, limp and lifeless.
From a distance, Carina watched in horrified silence.
Murphy dragged soldier after soldier into that blood-soaked room… and none of them came back out.
The bodies piled up behind closed doors, and even Carina—a succubus used to violence—felt a chill crawl down her spine.
"What is he?" she whispered to herself. "What the hell drives a man like that? Survival?"
Inside, Murphy's breath was steady. His grip on the machete was tighter now, and only three enemies remained. No words. No hesitation.
He launched.
The first soldier didn't even scream—his head was cleanly severed, spinning mid-air before landing with a dull thud.
But pain struck back.
A brutal punch slammed into Murphy's gut. He staggered slightly, eyes snapping to the attacker now standing in front of him.
Murphy didn't react in anger—he simply took off his glasses.
And stared.
Three seconds. That's all it took.
The cursed gaze was complete.
Behind him, another soldier—oblivious—yanked on the battered door, trying to use it as a weapon. But as he ripped it free, his hand swung wide…
CRACK!
He smashed it—straight into his ally's skull. The one who had punched Murphy.
The man screamed, collapsed, clutching his head in agony.
Blood now speckled Murphy's glasses. Calmly, he slipped them back on.
Then, with fluid precision, he hurled the machete.
THUNK.
The blade buried itself into the final attacker's forehead. His body crumpled with the door, both hitting the ground like dead weight.
Murphy walked over. Lifted the door.
And brought it crashing down onto the writhing soldier—again and again—until there was nothing left but silence.
And corpses.
He stepped out of the room, the walls now painted in blood. Dozens of lifeless bodies surrounded him.
Breathing heavily, Murphy wiped sweat from his brow. "Damn… that was a workout," he muttered.
He turned his gaze toward the only one left. "Guess it's just you now."
"Hey, quick question," Carina said, folding her arms casually.
Murphy groaned. "Ugh, what now? I'll give you five seconds. One, two—"
"I saw a glimpse of a tattoo under your eye earlier. What's it mean?" she asked with an amused look.
Murphy blinked, caught off guard. He was expecting a question about his powers, not… that.
"This?" he pointed under his eye. "It's my team name."
Carina leaned in slightly, her eyes gleaming. "Take off your glasses so I can see it properly?"
Murphy reached up instinctively. "Hm, alright—"
Then froze. "...Oh! Nice try."
Carina chuckled. "Tch, so you're not completely stupid."
"But seriously," she continued, tone softening, "why did your team even attack this organization?"
"Some want revenge," Murphy said with a shrug. "Others… don't really care either way."
"And you?" Carina asked, watching him carefully.
Murphy's tone dropped cold. "I just want to protect my little sister... from your leader. The one who's planning to reset this world."
The smirk on Carina's face faded for a moment.
"Oh? All for the family, huh?" Carina muttered, almost to herself.
Murphy raised an eyebrow. "So, what about you? Why'd you join this organization? Just to control people around you?"
Carina smirked. "Close, but not quite. I'm just looking for a partner who fits me."
She sighed, her voice softening. "I'm tired of being a succubus who just does the same old thing over and over."
"…I kinda envy the housewives out there who have their own thing going on," she muttered quietly. "I want that… too…"
Murphy blinked, caught off guard by her rare honesty.
Then, suddenly, she straightened up, her eyes brightening. "Ugh! What am I even ranting about? Alright! Let's fight again, Murphy!"
Murphy smirked, already having a plan. "Alright... come here, Carina."
He added with a tired sigh, "And don't expect me to scream like you—I'm already exhausted from fighting those soldiers."
Carina dove like a bullet.
Her fist aimed straight for Murphy's face.
He dodged, skidding backward in a sprint, eyes sharp behind his bloodstained glasses.
But her next strike was faster—slamming into his gut like a battering ram.
"Agh—!"
Murphy's body was launched into the air, the wind knocked clean from his lungs.
His glasses nearly flew off, but he caught them midair, gripping them tight like they were the last thing grounding him to reality.
No time to breathe.
Wings burst from Carina's back—black, bat-like, beautiful and monstrous. She shot forward, faster than thought, and crashed a kick into his stomach. The world spun.
Murphy hit the wall hard enough to crack it. "Shit…" he growled, pain flooding his ribs.
He popped a healing potion. Chugged it. Glass shattered as he chucked the empty bottle straight at her face.
Didn't work.
She swerved effortlessly.
Carina closed in—hand outstretched, claws aiming for his skull.
Murphy yanked off his glasses—no time to save himself, just the glasses.
Her hand clamped around his head.
Then dragged it down the concrete wall in a savage arc.
Sparks flew. Skin tore.
He couldn't even scream.
Midway through the grind, desperation took over. His instincts weren't heroic—they were disgusting.
He did the only thing he could.
He licked her hand.
Dead silence.
Carina recoiled, horror and fury painted on her face.
"You don't like being licked?" he coughed, voice ragged. "Funny, coming from a succubus."
Carina hissed, flinging him away in revulsion. "You little—"
Murphy barely avoided being slammed into the ground by activating his last resort—a teleport gem.
Flash.
His boots skidded across solid floor as he rematerialized.
Safe. Alive. Barely.
He spat on the ground, wiping his tongue like a man who'd kissed a sewer.
"Let me make one thing clear," Murphy muttered, voice sharp. "That? That's not my fetish."
"You always talk about fetishes," Carina said as she floated in the air, arms crossed with a grin. "So... what's your actual fetish?"
Murphy blinked, stunned. "Huh? You're seriously asking that now? What kind of messed-up timing is this? Are you out of topics or what?"
"I'm curious," she shrugged.
Murphy groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Fine. If you must know... I like girls with glasses."
Carina's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh? Then I guess I'll be borrowing yours!"
She darted forward, launching a wild side punch straight into Murphy's ribs before he could react.
WHAM!
Murphy went flying like a sack of regret, crashing into the wall with a grunt. "ARGH—! My ribs... and my dignity..."
As he staggered back to his feet, something changed.
Tendrils of demonic energy burst from Carina's body. Horns sprouted from her forehead. Her wings flared wider. Her eyes glowed a dangerous crimson.
"This... this is my true form!" she declared proudly.
Murphy stared for a beat. "Yeah... still a flat-chested loli."
Carina twitched. "Wha—?!"
"Look, no offense," Murphy added casually, brushing dust off his coat, "but I expected more transformation and less... cosplay."
Carina ignored him and struck a dramatic pose. "I've always adored humans! They're so easy to deceive!"
"Oh, here we go. The monologue..." Murphy muttered under his breath.
"I despise every other race!" Carina screamed, voice echoing with unholy fervor.
"Only humans and succubi like me are worthy! If I see anything else, I just want to CRUSH IT!"
Murphy stared at her in suprsied.
"That's kind of racist."
Carina hissed. "IT'S SPECIESISM!"
"Still racist, but with extra steps."
Murphy's eyes suddenly flared with pain, and he sank to his knees. "Oh, fuck… so this is my limit, huh?" he whispered bitterly.
He let out a slow, heavy breath, the cold air seeping from his lungs.
"Forgive me, Sera…"
A second later, Carina shot forward like a missile—fists, kicks, elbows—a barrage of violence crashing down on him.
And yet… Murphy didn't resist. He just took it. Every blow.
Carina grabbed him by the collar, snarled like a beast, and hurled him into the air.
His body spun violently before smashing into the ground like a ragdoll dropped from the sky.
His glasses cracked. "Ugh… damn it…" Murphy gritted his teeth, scrambling to hold them together like they were the last shred of control he had left.
But then he saw her—Carina—leaping straight at him.
He took off the glasses.
Her fists hammered into his face, again and again, each strike ringing with the sound of metal gauntlets on flesh.
Murphy clenched his eyes shut, knowing full well: if he looked into her eyes—just for three seconds—her fate would be sealed. And he didn't want that.
So he endured.
Bone-crushing pain.
Blood spurting from his lips.
He just took it.
"Why won't you fight back?!" Carina screamed, her voice cracking with rage and desperation.
She stood up, grabbed Murphy's leg, and flung him like a broken doll.
His body collided with a stone pillar, and he coughed blood. Still shaking, he reached for a potion and drank it in a panic—healing, barely.
But there was no time.
Carina was already there.
Her fist rocketed toward his face with monstrous speed.
The force of the blow knocked the glasses clean out of his hand.
Carina stared down at Murphy—barely able to move, just twitching his fingers.
He shakily reached for another healing potion and downed it, the liquid barely mending his shredded body.
But before the warmth of recovery could even settle into his bones—Fists rained down again.
Blow after blow, merciless and rhythmic, like thunder striking flesh.
Murphy couldn't even scream anymore. All he could do was endure.
He healed.
He was beaten.
He healed again.
And again—beaten.
A vicious cycle.
A twisted loop of recovery and suffering. Like she was testing just how many times a body could break before it gave up for good.
Finally, the last potion bottle slipped from his bloodied hand. Empty.
Murphy collapsed, limbs limp, chest rising and falling like a dying flame.
Carina grinned. "Yay~! Now you can't move anymore! Now I can finally scramble your brain~" she giggled, her voice dripping with malice.
Murphy shut his eyes tight, turning his face away from her. But it didn't stop her.
"Oh? Nice tattoo," Carina muttered, brushing her finger across the mark beneath his eye.
His face was swollen, lips cracked, blood dripping from his chin.
He'd been beaten hundreds of times. Every word from his mouth sounded like it was dragged from hell itself.
Yet somehow—he still had enough in him to talk back.
"You… made a big mistake recruiting me… damn loli…" Murphy hissed.
Carina tilted her head playfully, her eyes gleaming. "What kind of karma would I get if I looked into your eyes?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"…I dunno," Murphy muttered, a twisted smile forming despite the pain. "It's… random."
She paused.
But deep down, she thought—Even if karma struck… he'd protect her.
Because after she rewired his mind, Murphy would be hers.
Forever.
Carina slowly raised her hand—and with a faint shimmer, the gauntlets on her arms disintegrated into glittering particles of mana.
Despite their metallic appearance, they were forged entirely from her own magic.
They could appear or vanish at will.
No more distractions.
No more barriers between her and his mind.
"Open your eyes." Her voice was soft—dangerously soft.
Murphy tried to resist, but his strength had already withered away.
With an almost gentle cruelty, Carina forced his eyelids open.
And in that moment—Red met pink.
His crimson eyes stared into her gleaming, playful irises.
Time slowed.
One second.
A tremor in the air.
Two seconds.
A silent pressure coiling around them.
Three seconds.
The trigger was pulled.
"Yay~!" Carina clapped her hands like a child receiving a gift. "Alright, Murphy! Tell me—who do you love the most?!"
Murphy's lips twitched. His throat tightened. Every word tasted like blood.
"C… Ca… Ca…"
Carina leaned in, eyes wide with anticipation, her smile stretching across her face like a mask of twisted joy.
Then—he exhaled.
And whispered:
"…Catherine."
The world froze.
Carina's smile shattered like glass.
"…Who?" she breathed, as if the name had physically stabbed her.
Then—flash.
In a burst of green light, Murphy vanished, reappearing far behind her.
The last teleportation crystal he had… was gone, glowing fragments scattering like dying stars.
"Why aren't you brainwashed?!" Carina spun around, eyes wide with disbelief.
Murphy stood there, swaying, blood soaking his shirt, lips still curved into a defiant smile.
"Carina…" he muttered, pain lacing every syllable.
"You're… so damn—"
He staggered forward one step, choking on the words… "Beautiful."
"Ah, never mind." Carina tried to stand, but her legs gave out beneath her.
She stumbled—then collapsed, clutching her chest. Her face twisted in sudden agony.
"A—"
Before she could finish, a jagged bolt of lightning ripped through the broken ceiling above.
Neither of them had noticed the hole until now.
A massive chandelier crashed down, smashing onto her frail body.
Then—before she could even cry out—a heavy stone pillar toppled, crushing her again.
Murphy's body was shattered and useless. He could only watch helplessly, unable to move, unable to save her.
Blood pooled across the floor, spreading like a dark omen.
Then, something shifted inside him.
The fog clouding his mind—the brainwashing—began to dissipate.
In that instant, he knew.
Carina was dead.
"Everything... just as I planned."
A cold smile cracked across Murphy's bruised face. "Heh. I've always wanted to say that."
The heavier the blow he took, the heavier the curse that sent to her—
a curse so cruel, it could end a life.
Murphy's ears caught the soft echo of footsteps approaching.
He was utterly still, unable to move even an inch. Resigned, he surrendered himself to whoever drew near.
"M-Murphy?" A gentle, familiar voice trembled through the air.
Recognition stirred faint hope in his heart. "Cathy? Is that really you?"
"Wait! Don't move!" Cathy's hurried steps came closer as she quickly uncorked a healing potion, pressing it into Murphy's parched lips.
Relief washed over him like a fleeting breeze. "Ah… thank you," he whispered weakly. "But I think I'll just stay here, lying down."
"It's cold… but somehow, this still feels comfortable," Murphy added, a bitter smile curling on his lips.
"Murphy…" Catherine's voice was fragile, laced with concern.
His eyes—once bright with life and dreams—now stared blankly, hollow and devoid of light, as if the world had been drained from within.
"Your eyes…" she murmured, a tremor of disbelief in her tone.
Murphy returned a sad, knowing smile. He had expected this day to come. "I'm blind now, Cathy."
Shock froze her breath. She struggled to believe those words.
"Ever since I joined, I felt like I was overusing this special eye of mine," Murphy confessed softly.
"And deep down, I knew the day would come when it would betray me…"
He paused, the weight of his sorrow hanging heavy in the silence.
"I sent a terrible curse back to my enemy," Murphy said quietly, "and it… instantly took my sight."
Hearing those words, Cathy's heart clenched painfully.
"If you knew… why did you do it?!" she whispered, her voice trembling with both anger and despair.
Murphy gave a weak, bittersweet smile. "We all go a little mad sometimes."
"Idiot!" she scolded, tears spilling down her cheeks like fragile rivers.
"You should've taken the Fool name from Arche and used it!"
"Hey," Murphy chuckled softly, "my name's cool enough. I don't want 'Fool' tagging along."
In the vast, silent room, only Cathy's quiet sobs filled the space.
"Come on, stop crying…" Murphy's voice was gentle, soothing like a balm on her shattered heart.
Cathy slowly removed her glasses and wiped away her tears, her hands trembling. "Murphy…"
"Yeah?" he answered, his voice steady despite everything. "I'm still here, still alive."
She couldn't help but feel a strange mix of admiration and frustration at his stubbornness.
But beneath it all, something vulnerable stirred within her—a truth she could no longer keep hidden.
"…I think… I like you."
The words hung between them, fragile and trembling.
Murphy's eyes widened for a moment, a flicker of surprise breaking through the darkness.
"Huh?"