I hesitated before speaking in a broken voice, "Alright, I was trying to hide it, but it seems I have no choice but to tell you."
"Finally, Jevan… you finally decided to talk. I thought your stubbornness would last longer than that."
I forced myself to stay steady even though I was trembling with fear.
"Let me make something clear. First, I am not Jevan. Second, I have no idea what you mean by 'system pieces,' and I do not know where they are."
His smile faded. My hands shook when he moved, but fortunately he did not hit me.
His fist slammed into the wall beside my face. The wood cracked under the force of the blow, and shards scattered through the air. Some struck my face, leaving shallow cuts.
"I expected a smarter lie. But that is fine. We will see how long you can cling to it."
His fingers tightened around my throat harder than before, then he threw me to the ground.
My body crashed against the wooden floor. The boards beneath my back split and broke.
Damn. I do not think I will be able to stand easily after this.
"Talk, you bastard!"
He screamed hysterically, then bent over me, panting like a predator about to tear apart its prey.
"Where are the system pieces? Or would you prefer I carve the answer out of you piece by piece?"
Despite the pain gnawing at every inch of my body, I could not stop a strained note of sarcasm from slipping into my voice.
"As I told you…" I gasped before continuing. "I am not that person. I do not know that name. Maybe you should look for this so called Jevan somewhere else."
The aura around him grew more savage. In a swift motion, he raised his silver dagger.
Before I could even register what was happening, I felt the cold edge of the blade sink into my arm.
"As I said before, Jevan, I want to end this with as little pain as possible. But you are making it harder for both of us."
I clenched my teeth violently while my mind fought to stay conscious through the agony.
"Well, I want that too. But I truly do not know where this thing called 'system pieces' is."
My words seemed to unsettle him. Then he burst into laughter. Finally, in a voice soaked with contempt, he said, "Is that your survival plan? Pretend ignorance?"
He did not give me time to respond. His grip tightened on the dagger, then he yanked it from my arm.
Blood splattered heavily against the walls and the floor. He looked at it and laughed, a long hysterical laugh.
Then, in a calm that clashed with his brutality, he lifted the sleeve of his black coat and wiped the blade clean.
"You know, Jevan? How much I hated your stupidity? Why not just confess and end all this?"
His fingers still gripped the dagger tightly before he drove it into my shoulder.
He leaned closer until his hot breath burned against my face, then whispered in my ear.
"Do you feel that? That is the price of lying. And this is only the beginning, Jevan. You still have more to give me. More pain. More truth."
Even as my body was collapsing, I said mockingly, "Oh, wonderful. Finally, someone decided to teach me a lesson about honesty through stabbing. How did I never think of that? You have a fascinating philosophy. Now, genius, can you stop playing the madman for a second, use your brain if you have one, and listen to me? I am not Jevan, and I have no idea what nonsense you are talking about."
I could see his fingers tightening around the dagger, his features twisting in anger.
I knew I was pushing him closer to the edge of madness.
But honestly?
I had nothing left to lose.
Without warning, he tore the dagger out of my arm.
It felt as if my soul was ripped out with the blade.
Blood flowed over my skin, soaking into my clothes. Its metallic scent filled the air.
"You are still resisting, are you not?"
He smiled again. It was not mere mockery. Not even spite.
It was the smile of a sick man enjoying tearing someone apart slowly.
He watched me in silence for a moment, then said in a deep, merciless voice, "This is fun. Very fun. You can keep lying, Jevan, but I promise I will pull the truth from between your ribs if I must."
He raised the dagger again and stared at the blade covered in my blood.
"Each time I stab you, we get closer to the truth."
He spun the dagger between his fingers.
"The truth, Jevan, is nothing but pure pain."
In that moment, I truly regretted it.
Why did I not keep my mouth shut?
Could I not have been more careful, more rational?
But no. Of course not.
I had to open my mouth and throw sarcastic remarks at a madman holding a dagger.
I exhaled with difficulty and muttered inwardly in frustration, "Brilliant plan. Instead of trying to survive, I decided to provoke an armed lunatic. What a genius I am."
But let us be honest. This is not my fault. No. All the blame lies with this body, with its original owner. Why in the world did he get involved with a madman like this?
My eyes lifted toward him. That wide smile was still carved across his face.
He gave me no chance. Did not even let me catch my breath.
He kept stabbing me without pause, randomly, like an obsessed artist painting his final masterpiece with my blood.
Then, in a calm tone disturbingly at odds with his actions, he said, "Jevan, are you still resisting? All you have to do is speak the truth. Where is the 'system'? Why make things harder for yourself?"
I gathered what remained of my shattered dignity, lifted my head with difficulty, and spoke as if consoling myself before provoking my killer again.
"Oh, of course. How could I not think of that? Here is the great secret. I have been hiding the 'system' under my pillow all this time."
His expression froze for a brief second. The anger in his eyes shifted into something else, something like confusion, maybe even surprise.
It did not last.
He quickly burst into laughter.
Blood slowly streamed from my mouth. The metallic taste filled my throat, making my sarcasm even more bitter.
I do not know why I said that. Maybe because I knew I was finished. Or maybe, deep down, I just wanted to annoy him one last time before he left me a lifeless corpse.
He stared at me, his face a mix of frustration and anger.
I thought he would speak. He did not. He did not even grant me the courtesy of a reply. Without warning, he drove the dagger into my chest.
I gasped as my breath faltered, yet I still laughed.
A hoarse laugh, a blend of sarcasm and despair, as if mocking the world itself, not just him.
"You know…?" I murmured. "I always thought I would die in a more epic way. Something grand. Something worth remembering. But it seems my fate is to die at the hands of a madman who cannot even interrogate his victim properly."
He did not move. Did not speak. He just stood there, staring at a pool of blood.
"This is the result of your choices. Remember that always, Jevan."
The pain faded, not because it ended, but because I could no longer feel it.
As if the world had decided I did not need to feel anything anymore.
My limbs grew heavy. The walls around me began to blur and melt together.
Was this the feeling? The feeling of leaving?
With the last fragment of consciousness, I heard his voice again. This time it was not angry. Not mocking.
It carried something else. Something I could not fully grasp. Something close to pity.
"It seems you are still as foolish as ever, my old friend."
My old friend?
I tried to think. Tried to process his words. But the darkness swallowed me quickly, dragging me somewhere far away. A place without sound, without feeling, without pain.
Is this the end?
All that struggle, everything I endured, just to die like this? No glory. No meaning. Just a cheap ending for a man who was never meant to be here in the first place.
I laughed. Or tried to. It was broken, weak, barely escaping my throat.
"How pathetic."
Then finally, there was nothing left.