Akai is holding a map.
He's standing in the middle of a forest road, alone, studying the parchment like it might suddenly make sense if he stares hard enough.
"This world's map..." he mutters to himself. "It looks familiar. Like my world, but... everything's half the size? I'm on this big island close to the Kingdom of Limriyan."
His finger traces along the coastline.
"There's A Bridge Here I Can Cross The ocean from there. Two days. Maybe three."
He folds the map, tucks it away, and starts walking.
And then—for absolutely no reason—he starts dancing.
Just... dancing down the road.
"♪ Hail, Hail
What's the matter with this world ♪"
"♪ Hail, Hail
What's the matter with this world ♪"
Akai pulls out bread from his small bag—the one carrying his coins, food, and water—and eats while continuing to dance toward his destination.
The animals are watching him. He doesn't care.
He looks up at the big trees, listens to the wind moving through the leaves, watches birds flying through the sky. Birds singing in the forest.
It's peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Then he hears it.
Footsteps.
Running.
Akai's hand goes to his sword instantly. He doesn't draw it yet—not until he sees what the danger actually is.
The sound of bushes rustling. Dry leaves cracking.
From the side of the road, a woman bursts through the trees. She's carrying an injured girl in her arms. Both of them are covered in dirt and blood.
Their eyes meet.
Akai looks at them.
Tilts his head back slightly.
And keeps walking while dancing.
"♪ Hail, Hail
What Is The Matter With This Place ♪"
He's ignoring them completely.
The woman's face is desperate. Hopeless. Her eyes are giving up. The forest goes silent—silent like someone's funeral.
She looks down at her daughter. Then back at the direction she came from. Then at the other direction she could run. Then at Akai again.
She has to decide.
She runs toward him and grabs his leg, begging.
"Please! Help my daughter! Please help us! Save my daughter! I have no one left in this world besides her! Please help!"
Her voice cracks.
"I—I'll do everything you tell me to! Everything! Even you can... can..."
Akai looks down at her.
His expression is disgusted.
"Lady, I can't help you and your daughter. I'm not a physician or a doctor. I don't want to use anything I'll need for myself." His voice is flat, dismissive. "Either way, you don't look like someone I should help. Helping someone I just met on the road?" He shakes his head. "I've already suffered through situations like this. I don't want anything to do with you."
"Please! I beg you, I beg you, please help my daughter!"
She starts tightening her grip on Akai's leg, crying against it.
"I'll give you anything! Please, sir..."
The disgust on Akai's face grows bigger and bigger.
Again. This situation again. First I help that kid, and now this.
Why are you trying to test me?
He's shouting inside his mind, but his face stays cold.
"Look, woman. If you want my help, let go of my leg."
She releases slightly.
Akai looks at the girl. She has serious cuts and a fever. There's a big cut on her back, and spreading from it—a black mark.
"Hey, lady. What's that black mark? Is she poisoned by someone? Or something?"
The lady replies through her crying. "We've been attacked by someone. We never bothered anyone, but someone attacked us for no reason."
Akai starts to stand up, trying to leave.
The lady grabs his leg again.
"Lady, you've dragged me into your problem, and I don't want to fight anyone or have beef with someone, okay?"
This time the lady replies with anger in her tired eyes.
"If you leave us here... if me and my daughter die... you will be cursed by Lady Morrigan. You will suffer. You will suffer..."
"Oh. Oh, oh, oh."
Akai stares at her.
"Lady. Are you crazy?
"I'm going to be real with you—I'm already suffering. This entire situation is suffering. Do you know what I was doing five minutes ago? I was having a nice walk. I was singing to squirrels! And now I'm being guilt-tripped by a stranger who's threatening me with curses while her daughter—who, again, I don't know—is dying at my feet!"
He's thinking with tired eyes: I'm not sure what I should do.
Akai sits back down.
He pulls out a water bottle from his bag—it looks like a gourd water bottle from Chinese culture—and clean cloth.
He looks at the woman and glances at her sharply.
"Hold her," Akai says. "Don't let her move. Not even an inch."
The woman obeys without question, her hands shaking as she cradles her child's head.
Akai pours the clean water first. Clean, clear—it gleams like liquid sunlight as it touches the wound.
The girl hisses. Her body arches in pain.
Akai steadies her. "Let it bleed," he murmurs. His voice is steady. Low.
Blood mixes with water, running down the girl's side in thin crimson trails.
Akai waits. Counts the breaths.
Then he brings out a potion from his bag and looks at it, murmuring to himself: This potion is so costly. I only have three for myself, and now I have to use one. I'll only have two left.
He pours the potion directly onto the girl's wounded back.
The potion shimmers, seeping into the cut flesh. The faint black veins begin to fade. The angry color recedes beneath the skin like a retreating tide.
Then Akai decides to use his healing ability for the first time. He places his hand over the wound, and light glows from his palm. The wound closes.
The woman stares, amazed.
Akai sighs with relief. "Man, I'm always tired of doing things like this in my life. I just want to do nothing."
He tells the woman he's leaving now. "Don't follow me."
The lady hesitates to speak.
Akai stands there, waiting.
Waiting for a thank you.
He doesn't receive one.
Then someone shouts from behind.
The air stilled—a moment before chaos.
Then, a voice shattered the silence from behind.
"Oi, loser! That's my prey! You should leave that old witch woman alone!"
Akai turned his head slowly, mechanically, as though his body knew something terrible awaited.
A figure stood there—white hair catching the dim light, sword held with careless confidence. No armor. No hesitation. Just the casual posture of someone who'd killed many times before.
Akai's lips parted to speak—
The white-haired man moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Akai's vision tilted violently upward. He watched—detached, horrified—as his own body grew distant below him. His severed neck. The arterial spray painting the ground in cruel arcs of crimson. The white-haired swordsman was already turning toward the woman and child, blade dripping.
So fast I didn't even feel—
—◆—
AKAI DIES AGAIN.
—◆—
The world lurched back into place.
Akai stood facing the woman. His mouth formed those same words: he was leaving.
Behind him—
"Oi, loser! That's my—"
His heart hammered against his ribs like it wanted to escape. His mind spun, accelerating, racing through the previous death frame by frame.
Don't turn around.
He turned around.
The white-haired man stood there again. Exactly as before.
Akai tried to speak—tried to warn, to negotiate, to understand—
The blade came.
This time, Akai's body moved on instinct born from death. He dropped, hitting the ground hard, rolled, grabbed the woman and child and pulled them away from the killing range.
Distance. He needed distance.
The white-haired man's eyes widened—just slightly. Surprise flickered across his features.
"You look weak, but you react so fast. Seems like you're not that weak for a human." A grin split his face, predatory and pleased. "But today you will die. If you beg for your life, I'll make it painless."
Akai's hand found the hilt of his longsword. Drew it slowly. His eyes never left his opponent.
Wait. Watch. Learn.
The white-haired man moved—a feint with his leg, then he vanished—
Pain exploded across Akai's torso. He looked down to see his body separated at the waist. His vision dimmed.
—◆—
DEATH COUNT : 2
—◆—
Again.
Akai's breathing was ragged before the fight even began. He knew now. Knew the timing. Knew the angle.
The white-haired man attacked from behind—
Akai dodged, pivoted, grabbed the incoming blade with his bare hand. Blood welled between his fingers but he moved, driving his sword toward the man's throat.
The swordsman twisted away—not quite fast enough.
Red bloomed across his cheek.
"You bastard! You damaged my beautiful face! How am I going to show this face to my wives, you worm?!"
The white-haired man's curses filled the air, but Akai didn't respond. His mind churned:
Why does this always happen to me? He's too strong. Too fast. I can't win this. I should run. But if I leave them, will the woman curse me? Will dying cursed be worse? And I can't carry them—she's too heavy to run with—
"Hey, you bastard! Why the fuck did you attack me for no reason? Don't you know I'm not with them?"
The white-haired man's grin turned ugly. "Then why did you carry them for a moment and make distance between me and you? You could've run the moment you dodged my attack, but you didn't. You carried them instead. How funny, isn't it? You're just trying to be a hero, aren't you? Or did she offer you something that only a female can offer? How lowly are you..."
Akai's lips twisted into something that might have been a grin.
I can't leave. I can't win.
Someone—or something—was watching. He could feel it.
His heart pounded so violently he thought it might simply stop. Just give up and end this.
They fought.
Akai didn't try to win. He tried to survive. Each exchange taught him something new. Each death added another lesson written in blood.
The white-haired man's frustration grew with each loop. This weak human just kept dodging. Kept meeting his blade with that expressionless face. Kept refusing to die properly.
But he didn't know the price. Couldn't see the mountain of corpses Akai climbed with every return.
Death after death after death.
—◆—
1,078 times
—◆—
Each death felt like another chain wrapped around Akai's soul. An endless pile of his own corpses beneath his feet, and him standing atop them all, desperately clinging to life.
Each death made his heart race faster. Made something dark and heavy pour from his body like smoke.
The white-haired man began to notice. An aura—cold and suffocating—gathered around Akai's form. It flowed along his blade like living shadow.
For the first time, the white-haired man felt fear.
—◆—
1,999Th Attempt.
—◆—
Akai's body moved differently now. The aura had become part of him, flowing through muscle and bone.
The white-haired man's strikes came slower. Or perhaps Akai had simply died enough times to see them all.
The cold emanating from Akai made the air itself feel heavy. Oppressive.
I can't win, Akai thought, even as he dominated the exchange.
I can't win, the white-haired man thought, even as he swung his blade.
In Akai's mind, the world had become a river of blood. An ocean of his own corpses stretching to infinity. Dead hands—his hands—reached up from the crimson depths, grabbing him, pulling him down.
Rest, they whispered. Give up. Let go.
Akai felt himself sinking. The weight of two thousand deaths pressed down on his shoulders.
Maybe... maybe it would be easier to just—
—◆—
In a place beyond places, where no light existed and darkness itself was just another guest, seven figures sat on thrones of stone.
They were not human. Not demon. Not spirits. Just presence and ancient malice given form.
"Hahaha! Look at him! He's going to give up! You see? What a loser! Even though he's not like a human!"
"I guess I'm going to win the bet! Hahahaha!"
"He's actually not giving up. You shouldn't celebrate early. Hehehehe."
"Come on, he's just another piece of entertainment for us. There are many entertainment candidates for us to bet on."
The others fell silent at those words. All eyes turned toward the speaker.
A voice—heavy, ancient, and absolute—resonated through the void:
"You should be glad I allowed your game. Everyone should know—you should bring them there quietly and don't let them know."
—◆—
Akai sank deeper into the blood-ocean. Deeper into despair.
But then—
His heart pulsed.
Once. Violently. Like an engine misfiring.
Pain shot through his chest—so intense it burned away the numbness, the resignation, the letting go.
His senses returned. Not fully. Not like before his first death. But enough.
Enough to fight.
The white-haired man's blade descended toward Akai's neck—
Akai moved. Dodged. His sword flashed upward.
The white-haired man's head left his shoulders.
The aura surrounding Akai intensified—so heavy, so suffocating that the woman and child stumbled backward, gasping for air they couldn't find.
They fled from him. Put distance between themselves and the thing standing where a man had been.
Akai stood among the carnage. Blood on his blade. Blood in his soul.
He looked at the woman and child and thought:
I killed that white-haired guy already, so there should be no problem for now.
But what do I do with them?
The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the cold aura continued to pulse around him like the heartbeat of something long dead.
Then, Akai hears someone whisper in his ear a voice unmistakably feminine, carrying with it an otherworldly quality that made his skin prickle.
"Why not serve that guy's dead body to me as an offering, human?"
Akai's head snapped to the side.
What he saw defied every law of nature he thought he understood. There stood a lady—if one could call her that—whose face was split down the middle. One half possessed the delicate features of a beautiful woman. The other... the other was the scaled, reptilian visage of a serpent, complete with a forked tongue that flickered toward him with unsettling curiosity.
Akai's mind struggled to process the impossible sight before him.
"Back off, you witch! Back off! And don't stick your mouth like that!" The words tumbled out before he could stop them, his voice cracking slightly.
"Hehe, you don't prefer snakes? I thought so." The creature's voice held amusement, as if she'd encountered this reaction countless times before. "What do you prefer? A cat? A water race? An elf? Any animal you prefer, I can give you."
"Shut your bitch-ass mouth, lady!" Akai shouted at the transforming woman, his heart hammering against his ribs. "I don't want to talk! I think I'm just seeing things. Yeah, that's it—hallucinations from blood loss or something."
"No, you're not," the lady replied, her tone taking on a more serious edge. "You're seeing a spirit, and I'm here to build a contract with you."
The spirit began to hover, circling around Akai like a predator sizing up prey. Her eyes—both human and serpentine—gleamed with something he could only describe as hunger. "Why not accept my offer? You're a man, right?" Her voice dripped with sultry promise.
"You can add anything to the contract."
"Yeah, I'm a minor, bitch."
The forest fell silent.
Even the wind seemed to pause in its eternal dance through the trees. The awkwardness hung in the air like a physical presence, suffocating and uncomfortable.
Akai stared at the spirit. "You should talk normally with me if you want to say anything about it. I don't know anything about what a contract is."
The lady spirit's expression shifted to one of genuine confusion, the predatory gleam fading. "You don't know what a contract is? Are you from another region? Another place where no one has discovered such things? How... quite fascinating."
Akai let out a breath, forcing himself to use gentler words. "You should talk like this instead of that attitude. So what is a contract about?"
The spirit straightened, her demeanor changing entirely. When she spoke again, her voice carried the weight of ancient knowledge:
"A spirit contract can be formed between any race. It's not limited to someone's specific heritage or bloodline. We spirits can offer contracts to certain individuals, or grant blessings to many. Most spirits simply give blessings to people—small favors, minor protections. But there are some people special enough that they can bond a contract with a spirit." She paused, studying him with renewed interest. "Most of them hold something unique, something interesting, or something special..."
Her gaze intensified, and Akai felt as if she was looking through him rather than at him.
"I refuse," Akai stated flatly.
"Why?" The spirit's voice rose in disbelief. "Why would you reject a spirit contract? It's a rare opportunity! Do you understand how many would kill for this chance?"
"You think I'm fool enough to accept some sort of special ability just because it's offered?" Akai's voice hardened. "Everyone has one of those. I don't want to be surrounded by that type of people. I reject your offer."
The sound of steel piercing flesh cut through the air—a wet, sickening noise that Akai's body recognized before his mind did.
He looked down.
A sword protruded from his chest.
He turned his head, following the blade back to its wielder.
The white-haired guy.
How—?
Akai's survival instincts kicked in. He twisted his body and delivered a devastating kick that sent the white-haired man flying backward, creating distance between them. Blood poured from Akai's mouth as he coughed, each spasm sending fresh waves of agony through his body.
His hands fumbled for the potion at his belt. He downed it in one gulp while simultaneously channeling healing magic through his body for the second time that day. The familiar warmth spread through his chest, knitting flesh and sealing wounds.
That fucking bastard is alive. How? I cut his head clean like butter. It should have been over.
While the healing process worked its way through his system, the spirit's voice cut through his concentration. "You should consider now—"
"No. I don't want to do this."
A scream tore through the forest—primal, inhuman, filled with rage and pain that transcended language.
The white-haired guy was transforming.
His body twisted and expanded, bones cracking and reforming with sounds that made Akai's stomach turn. Flesh rippled and grew, muscle mass multiplying impossibly. Within seconds, what had been a man was now a nine-foot-tall monster that looked like it had crawled out of someone's worst nightmare.
"Fuck," the word escaped Akai's lips unbidden.
"Run!"
Akai didn't need to be told twice. He scooped up the unconscious woman and girl, their combined weight somehow manageable in his adrenaline-fueled state, and took off running. Behind him, the monster that had been the white-haired guy let out another roar that shook the trees.
The creature was so grotesque, so fundamentally wrong to look at, that Akai felt bile rise in his throat.
As his legs pumped and his lungs burned, the spirit materialized beside him, keeping pace effortlessly.
"If you would just—"
"Shut up," Akai cut her off, his mind racing. Let me think. I can't keep running for long. The healing process isn't complete. I can't afford to heal anytime I want—my mana reserves are too low. And I definitely don't want to make a contract with this spirit. She clearly has some unknown motives.
The sound of the monster crashing through the forest behind them grew closer.
"Hey, you—can you hear me?" He tried to grab the spirit's attention.
"Oh ho, now you'll see how useful making a contract with me is!" Her voice carried smug satisfaction.
"You should tell me what I'll actually get from forming a contract with you."
"Don't worry, I'll tell you later—"
"That's not good enough—"
The spirit leaned in close and pressed her lips to his forehead before he could protest. A burning sensation spread from the point of contact, and Akai felt something fundamental shift i