"He wants to kill me, he really wants to kill me!"
A nameless emotion swelled in Roger's mind. On his first day in this world, he had seen a lighthouse in the dark sea.
Then, before fainting, he stretched out his hand for help.
The days that followed with Kant weren't exactly harmonious; the man was cold and harsh, and when Roger saw that blue figure under the moonlight.
Fear of the man once more crept into his thoughts.
In his past life, he had decades of experience, but having lived in peaceful times, he had never known what a real life-and-death crisis was.
It was only when he was rushing to the top of the tower that he saw the threat of death in Kant's shotgun.
For the first time, he saw unmasked murderous intent in the eyes of another human.
Under the influence of the Concentration Potion, Roger's senses were several times more acute than usual, and he lunged forward before Kant could even pull the trigger.
No dodging, no defending, he just charged straight at Kant.
"Click!"
A crisp sound followed.
"The gun is out of bullets."
Roger was crystal clear on this fact; just before their surprise attack on the Murloc Leader, he not only found the perfect timing but also noticed the number of bullets Kant loaded.
And at that critical moment, Kant had subconsciously fired all the bullets!
This was precisely why Roger dared to move forward after witnessing the death of the Murloc Leader.
He had hoped to live in peace with Kant, after all, it was Kant who had dragged him from the cold shore that night not long ago.
But unfortunately...
With his right hand grasping the iron axe embedded in the Murloc Leader's corpse, Roger rolled forward, his hand swinging the axe!
Kant's face turned to shock as he threw his shotgun forward, retreating while drawing the dagger belted at his waist.
"Haha, die, die!"
"Take out your heart, and Ivy can..."
Kant's roaring stopped abruptly as he clutched the wound on his neck, blood gushing through his fingers, his dagger dropping to the ground.
Clang!
Life fading, Kant looked at Roger with a pale face.
Gwah!
Just then, a female Murloc nearby let out a piercing scream as her body twisted and crawled forward.
Only now did Roger notice that the female Murloc's Scale Armor was receding, and her features were becoming more humanlike.
Roger stepped back several paces, holding the iron axe in front of him cautiously on guard.
But to his surprise, the female Murloc seemed not to see him at all and desperately crawled to Kant's side, catching his teetering body.
Like shedding skin, the female Murloc's features grew more normal, and only then did Roger realize how severely she was wounded.
"Why must you kill me?"
"I could pretend I haven't seen anything."
Roger asked softly.
Kant shook his head, uttering the last words of his life.
"I don't trust anyone."
"Any human!"
Having said that, he died in the arms of the female Murloc with his eyes wide open.
The female Murloc screamed in agony, and just when Roger thought she was going to attack, she did nothing.
Her transformation continued until she was completely human. She glanced at Roger, her expression devoid of any hatred.
Then she dragged Kant's corpse, moving step by step toward the top.
By that time the sun had wholly risen above the sea, illuminating the entire island.
The Murloc woman was badly hurt to begin with, and her injuries burst forth even more after she turned into a human. As she advanced, a shocking trail of blood marked her path.
Roger felt a weight on his chest. He stood still, watching the Murloc woman laboriously drag Kant's body to the top, exposed to the sunlight.
Suffering torment as if through the cruelest punishment, her seemingly normal skin immediately began to rot away. She struggled but didn't make a sound, clinging desperately to Kant.
And then she died in the morning light.
Roger dropped the iron axe and followed the bloody trail up to the lookout tower at the top.
Standing there, he took in the entirety of the island for the first time.
"Such a beautiful place."
The corpses at his feet starkly contrasted with the vibrancy in the distance. He exhaled deeply.
"Is this what it means to be a Demon Hunter?"
Should Kant have died?
Roger didn't know. Perhaps in a different setting, they could have been friends, but here, when Roger discovered Kant's secret, the conclusion was inevitable.
If he had hesitated then, he might have been the one to die.
Or maybe that man already knew about the injuries the Murloc woman carried, and he had already gone completely mad.
As time passed, the effect of the Concentration Potion receded like the tide, leaving his brain feeling as if part of it had been scooped out. The intense nausea nearly caused Roger to collapse.
The two floors below were burned beyond recognition, and in his current state, there was no way he could return to the cabin.
Exhaustion and dizziness incessantly jabbed at his nerves. After a brief tidy-up, he fell into a confused sleep.
In his dream, shadows and lights were chaotic; he saw distorted creatures, raging flames, and a large hand stretching toward him at the end.
He opened his eyes.
The afternoon sun shone on his face, and instead of the familiar coolness in his brain, there was a prickly pain. His stomach was empty, signaling hunger.
Roger went back down to the third floor and took out some canned food, gulping it down.
The Murloc woman's corpse had turned into a pile of charred remains. A light touch turned it to flying ash. Roger didn't pay it much mind, but before leaving, a glimpse revealed a flickering light within the ashes.
A pendant.
It was wholly silver, both the charm and the necklace crafted from metal. To Roger's taste, the charm looked somewhat ugly, even indistinguishable in form.
It resembled an iron lump, or a clump of twisted metal solidified together.
The moment the pendant was in his hand, he felt a strange energy emanate from it.
"Could this be a Magical Item?"
His interest perked.
Despite searching, he found no other items. As for Kant, the only thing Roger found on him was a key.
He used the key to open a secret door next to the iron cage on the fourth floor.
The room was narrow, barely able to fit a desk and a bed.
The table was piled with various books.
Opening a drawer, a notebook caught his eye.
Flipping open the diary, the first page held a photo that had been violently torn, leaving only Kant and a somewhat distorted face.
Turning to the title page, Roger read carefully, knowing that through this diary he might truly understand the inner workings of that cold man hidden beneath his tough exterior.
And... everything related to this place.