An extraordinarily precise attack had been unleashed.
Well, perhaps "precise" was a hardly-fitting word. The actual skill was practically none; it was merely drawing a line along the body and targeting the areas that carried the most blood.
Rather, what was "precise" had been the environment in which the attack had been performed within.
His mind was supposed to be crumpling like paper, shattering like glass, breaking like styrofoam—yet he had explicitly taken advantage of Scott's distracted state to aim for most of the major areas of the body.
—So, then, just what was Riley up to?
——Laid out flat like a drunk, Riley screamed like a baby, sniffling and giving an utterly unsightly appearance for a man.
"AGH!" He shouted, slashing at a servant, who stepped back, wary of the power of [Bleeding]. No matter how you looked at it, that was the singular, most overwhelmingly fearsome tool Riley had at his disposal. —Or, rather, it was the only thing fearsome about him.
His mind was shattering; if it weren't for the effects and power of [Bleeding], he'd essentially be a brain-damaged drunkard.
Scott, in spite of having his brain cut, simply regenerated it off. His eyes narrowed as he stumbled back, walking against the wall. Glancing around, the vampire found himself within an office building. To which, he softly smiled due to nervousness.
"A-alright. Whatever, it's no biggie…" he comforted himself, walking back over to Riley, who tried to climb to his feet, only to gag. There, vomiting out no solids; only gastric juices.
"Ew. Regardless…"
Winding his foot back, a fearsome attack which split a ribcage in two rang true, rocketing a helpless weakling into the air.
"...You ought to pay for that," Scott growled, before laughing it off to himself. "Well, whatever. It's not so much fun to just kick you around."
"GRRRAAHHH!!"
Unleashing a primal roar, Riley Woods lunged at the many servants, swinging [Bleed—
"Idiot."
An arm, buried to the forearm, had impaled Riley through the guts.
"Rushing in blind… and all you can do is—"
"I DON'T FEEL ANY PAIN ANYMORE!"
Swinging his knife, Riley beheaded the vampire, only for the creature to simply form a new head and rip his arm out of Riley's stomach, slapping him in response. Sent sprawling to the floor, Riley screeched.
"PAIN, I DON'T FEEL ANY PAIN! NO-no, no, no pain! No more—mno, no, no pain, no pain, no pain, no… H-haha… yes, I am the Star! A Star, a bright one, loved! Loved by the world, the singular defining trait of this world, the caricature of the world, the embodiment of this world's love and joy and peace! Yes, Riley Woods! Reach out!"
Springing up, with clenched fists, Riley's bloody smile shined brightly. With an overwhelming speed, he leapt up and brought down a shin-kick to an opponent's collarbone. Using his ability, it shattered the clavicle and sent them to the ground.
"Tch, you fuck—"
Riley grabbed one of them by the neck and lifted them up into the air. Chokeslamming them through the ground completely, they changed floor levels, Riley on top and laughing like a maniac.
"Tee-hee~! Hehehe, heheh, yep! When we get back to the mix-house~~"
Flipping his opponent over onto their stomach, Riley pumped his hips into their rear. Violently. So violently that it blew their body forwards a few feet from the sheer strength.
"I'M KNOCKING THAT KITTY CAT OOUUT!!"
The laughter of, well, a teenager, ran out into the air. Snarkily wheezing with laughter at his "humor," his mouth made a weird "cllghhhh" noise repeatedly, his tone raising into an extremely high-pitched giggling like a prepubescent schoolgirl.
His opponent coughed and wheezed from being chokeslammed, to which Riley mounted them and wrapped his fingers around their neck. Forcibly strangling them, he continued with his stupid laughter.
"AH! WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING!? GET HIM OFF OF ME!!"
The other servants erupted into laughter. Of course, Riley was no doubt their enemy, but they did find it amusing—a sadistic bunch, no doubt.
There was truly no doubt. Even Scott, who had his experience against Riley, fundamentally could never imagine Riley being the kind of person to do such a thing.
I mean, after all, back then he was just some weird loser. His basis for his ability was suicide, I doubt he'd actually do something this dumb without being forced to. Hilarious.
The servant forced Riley off of him, as the youth staggered around.
"K-hgh, gkha, haha, h-hide, hide and seek! Let's play hide and seek!!"
"Ooh."
The other servants entered through the hole in the ceiling, with Scott being the designated leader. He approached Riley and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"Alright then. You hide, and we'll seek. You've got one minute; when we catch you, we'll break a bone. Sounds fun, no?"
"YES! FUN, FUN! HEE-HEE~!"
Doing a light twirl, Riley ran around the office building, going up the stairs with loud footsteps. The opponent he'd, for a lack of a better word, "humped," got up, he balled up his fists and snarled.
"Does that little fucker even know who I am!? I've killed over eight-hundred people, and he just—URGH! FUCK, WHEN I FIND HIM, I'LL KILL HIM!"
"Pfft," Scott laughed, "chill out man. It's not—"
"NO! I WON'T CHILL OUT! THAT PIECE OF SHIT FUCKING HUMPED ME—"
Admitting it, the servant caused everyone to laugh at him. This only further increased his overwhelming rage.
"FINE! FUCK YOU GUYS! YOU… FUCK! I'll catch him, I'll catch him…!"
Within the quiet office building, they heard muffled laughter, followed by shattered glass and an "Owchie!"
And, inevitably, the minute passed.
One servant, whose ability was that to produce overwhelmingly loud yells, born out of his father's non-violent yet loud emotional abuse, declared that they were setting out to find Riley Woods.
"Let's split into groups. We've got around thirty people, so I'd say groups of four work well," Scott said, "don't wanna end it too quickly, do we?"
"Nope, fine with me," another servant said, as they went up the stairwell of the office building. It was a large building, and with many floors, they were thus able to travel in the first eight floors with three people instead of four for the last floor.
For the fourth floor, the group of four entered and began to walk around. Attempting to sense Riley using their Sixth Sense, they found that it was impossible due to his utter lack of visible Bloodlust, drowned in their sea of blood.
The group peered around cubicles, one person even jokingly lifted up a potted plant.
"Oop. Well, at least we know he's not underneath the plant."
"Oh shut up. C'mon, let's keep looking. If we find him, I say we break his wrist; that way, we send him back out and see where he chooses to hide."
"I agree," a third servant proclaimed quite loudly, trying to fit in with the rest. As they continued around the office floor, they were unable to find the hider. Though the office building was dark and without inside lights, the moon and outside streetposts were enough to provide a decent enough lighting job to allow them to find him, should they spot him.
The floor was white, tiled, and well-cleaned.
They regrouped once the main area had been cleared. Looking at the hallway leading to the stairwell, they set out within the relatively thin hallway. It was a quiet night tonight. No sirens, no car horns—utterly silent.
"Alright then. Let's check the upper floors——"
…
Fifth floor.
A group of servants peered around their own floor. Entering the meeting rooms and peering around, checking under the tables, looking around, they found nothing.
"Hm. Well, if I were him, I also would have fled to some of the top floors. Lets you regenerate naturally for longer."
Another servant shrugged his shoulders.
"I guess so. But, couldn't you also hide in the lower floors, and if you don't get caught, then everyone moves on? It's a smart decision, and—"
There was liquid.
Running water, spilling onto hard tiled floor. Subsequent, light thuds in great number.
"...Wha?"
Looking down, the servants tilted their heads. "Where did that come from? Below?"
The sound of running water continued. Splashing. Something heavy and continuous was hitting the ground, likely a liquid.
"Well, either way, it's an interesting sound. Let's check it out."
The group went towards the stairwell, descending with heavy footsteps. They reached the fourth floor, and entered inside. From their vision, there was nothing strange. As they peered around cubicles, seeing the many kinds of family photos, and snidely remarking as they found clearly-used settings in which there were no traces of a social life, they found that the sound of water had gone away.
Then, it hit them. A foul odor, and one that had filled their nostrils countless times. There was absolutely no mistaking it.
As they rushed towards the source of the scent, one of them grabbed their phone, turning on the flashlight and—. No, there was no need for that, in truth. The moment the bottom of someone's shoe touched the ground, and delivered an ear-rending splash, they knew exactly what was before them.
The powerful white light shone upon the hallway. The clean white floors of the office had been replaced with foul pools of blood. There was not even a single trace of hard ground along the floor—simply viscera.
And, adrift in that red sea, there was the putrid sight of corpses.
As if the sanctity of human life had been utterly disregarded, it was absolutely nothing short of "mutilation." Ripped apart, the work had been done in an uncouth mixture of precise knife-work and brute strength.
In the darkness, it was difficult to fully make out. Thus prompting the brain to put the puzzle together. With this abhorrent sight, the pieces it subconsciously created were on par with the obscured reality.
—They had seen many corpses, and created many corpses. But for the very first time, they saw themselves in the dead. Rather than only being able to envision themselves as the murderers, the assailants, the victimizers and the hunters—they saw people just like them who had been slaughtered.
——Repulsive. Repulsive, abhorrent, an absurdity which should not be so.
The servants, the four, who stood in shock at the sight, their bodies went still. Paralyzed in shock, their eyes scanned the walls next, averting their eyes from the carnage before them.
The walls, just like the floor itself, had been coated with the lifeblood of the body. The stench of guts and blood, the horrible sight before them, the visceral paintings their brains subconsciously painted, and the memory of their status as soldiers against an active threat—had made it painfully, uncomfortably clear for them.
———The enemy was still out there, and he was overwhelmingly lethal.