0006: The Accursed One

The moment the old man saw Pain sitting beside him, his eyes went to his arms and he fearfully jumped in the opposite direction. The sad look in his eyes had transformed to dread.

"Get away from me!!" he shrieked, scrambling backward.

The old man attempted to run, but Pain caught him by the arm. Pain looked around to make sure there were no soldiers in the area before making his move.

"Help! Help!" the old man screamed, but no one could hear him. The tree's position offered privacy, isolating them from the rest of the village.

Pain held him by the neck with a blazing look in his eyes, "Scream one more time and I'll pull out your tongue!"

That happened to do the trick, because the old man fell silent, his breathing shallow and erratic.

"Now," Pain said, loosening his grip just enough for him to speak, "why are you so afraid of me?"

The old man swallowed hard. "P-Player from another world, let me go! I-I'll tell you whatever you want. I can even give you a mission! A good one—with nice rewards!" His gaze darted wildly, searching for help.

Pain knew better than to trust him, still he released the old man's neck from his hold. The old man was bald. He wore a tattered singlet and leather shorts.

In Hell's Foundation, NPCs weren't just programmed dialogue machines. They had personalities, memories, and choices. Yet even with 13 points of charm, Pain's first interaction with an NPC was already a disaster. Pain couldn't help but be disappointed.

As Pain expected, the old man made a run for it but hardly had he taken five steps before he paused.

The outline of a hand stretched out of Pain's shadow and gripped that of the old man's ankle. Pain wasn't sure his skills would work on NPCs. Now he knew. The old man desperately tried to move but couldn't. Not even his eyeballs.

{Shadow Paralysis has been deactivated}

Pain held him by the neck and threw him to the base of the tree. The old man collapsed to the dirt. This time, the man didn't try to run. After what just happened there was nothing that would make him take his eyes of Pain.

Pain crouched before him, his crimson gaze boring into the man's soul. "I'll ask one more time. What's scaring you?"

In Hell's Foundation, there was a reason for everything. Pain was certain the old man wasn't acting like this because he was crazy.

The old man raised his shaky hands and pointed a finger at the Rings on Pain's arms.

"The Rings? Why?"

"A long time ago," the old man rasped, "The Accursed One wore Rings like those… He terrorized this world. If truly yours are the same, I must alert the soldiers. You—you must be imprisoned at once!" His eyes flickered, searching for anyone.

Pain exhaled slowly. So that's it.

"I see." Pain's face showed no emotion as he moved closer to the old man. "Thank you."

The old man's heart started to beat like a machine gun. With extreme speed, Pain reached for the old man's chest. When he was a few centimeters from touching him, Pain stopped.

{Ring Blast has been activated!}

A ring shot from his arm at blinding speed. It tore through the old man's chest, leaving a perfect, circular hole. Blood sprayed, but before it could stain Pain's skin, the Ring returned to his wrist, absorbing every drop.

The glowing question mark above the old man's head flickered, then disappeared, replaced by a deep red icon.

DEAD.

Since no one was around, Pain waited to observe what would happen. As expected, five minutes later, the body disintegrated into white sparks, leaving nothing behind.

Normally, it shouldn't be possible to deal damage to an NPC. It was against the law but since they were isolated from the rest of the village, Pain didn't care. If there was one grade of equipment that could destroy any form of matter in the game for good, it would be Chaos-grade.

Pain didn't feel anything about killing the old man because there was no way he could let him live. Not when the old man knew something that could lead to Pain's in-game death. He would rather die than become a slave again.

"This time, I will do whatever it takes to live in pleasure. This time, people will fear me and not the other way round. I have suffered enough." He said to himself, making a tight fist.

While awaiting more info about the Rings of Ra, Pain decided to use them to his advantage. He turned away, adjusting his sleeves to cover the Rings. The fabric didn't conceal much, but it was better than exposing them to preying eyes. One thing was clear; he couldn't afford to be seen by a soldier. He left the tree area to head back to town.

Pain had to walk a while before he could get back to the village square. Pain strolled through the village, the scent of freshly baked bread mixing with the stench of livestock. The square bustled with NPCs, but his eyes landed on one in particular; a young man with a bright orange marker above his head.

He stepped into the butcher's shop. The rhythmic 'thunk-thunk' of a cleaver filled the dimly lit space. The air was thick with the scent of blood and raw meat.

Behind the counter stood a broad-shouldered man, his stained apron clinging to his muscled frame. He didn't look up, focused on carving through a slab of flesh.

Pain approached him. "Got any work that needs doing?"

The butcher grunted, finally glancing up from his work. His beady eyes swept over Pain, analyzing his attributes.

"Unless you've got a death wish, go get a mission from someone else."