Chapter 17: A Brush with the God of the World

A subway train sped past, its roaring sound drowning out the gunshots that echoed from a corner of the platform. No one knew that there, someone had fought their last battle for survival.

The South Asian man holding the gun emptied his clip, but instead of injuring Erik, he unwittingly delivered metal materials to him. Two others, gathering their courage, tried to charge at Erik from either side. However, the dim light obscured their vision, and they failed to notice the trap ahead. At some point, Erik had set up extremely thin metal wires along their escape route. The wires were embedded deep into the walls at just the right height, waiting for the foolish prey to walk straight into the trap.

The two men, driven by desperation to escape death, ran at full speed. But before they could escape, they ran right into the deadly snare. The taut metal wires, sharp as knives, cut deeply into the unprotected part of their necks, severing their muscles and slicing through their windpipes until the wires reached their cervical vertebrae.

Now, the two men hung suspended, their legs twitching in the air as blood and other fluids spilled from their wounds.

For these young South Asians, the few seconds it took were intense beyond measure. One of them, hesitant for just a moment, became the only survivor. After witnessing the deaths of his companions, he became numb, his legs giving way beneath him as he collapsed to the ground.

At that moment, the gunman stopped breathing. As Erik turned around, the young South Asian saw a dark shadow on the wall. At the bottom of the shadow lay the body of his armed teammate.

In a ten-square-meter area, everything was coated in a muddy, sticky mess.

Erik's boots squelched as they pressed against the damp ground. He ripped a piece of fabric from someone's body, wiping his hands as he slowly walked toward the young man. The light from the passing train flickered through the windows, casting a wavering glow across Erik's face. Soon, the train was gone, and the corner returned to its previous gloom.

"Do you know who I am?" Erik asked casually as he stood in front of the young man, still wiping between his fingers.

"..." The young man tried to speak, but his throat was dry, as though it were a piece of dead wood. He swallowed hard to relieve it.

"David... The artificial man, David," the young man finally found his voice, speaking haltingly. "I saw you in the Alien prequel."

Erik raised an eyebrow. He was a bit speechless. Was he supposed to tell this guy it was the same actor? He couldn't be bothered to explain.

"Good eye," Erik said, though he was wrong about who he thought he was.

"Are you a reincarnator too? Is this world a team battle? I've heard about it, but I didn't expect it to happen so soon..." The young man speculated Erik's identity, but he guessed wrong again. Who would expect someone like Erik, who could slip past the God of the World, to exist? Even the God couldn't break his own limits, let alone a clueless rookie.

"Well, I'm a lone wolf. You can understand it that way," Erik briefly introduced himself before asking, "What's your mission?"

The young man tilted his head weakly, looking up at Erik. "If I tell you, I'll die."

"How do you know unless you try?" Erik placed a coin in the palm of his hand and aimed it at the young man. It didn't take long for him to give in.

Maybe it wouldn't kill him to try. If he didn't, death would come instantly—he understood the situation all too well.

"Follow the main character and obtain the hybrid species' bloodline... It's that simple. We thought it was just a simple adventure..."

It was simple enough—no time punishment, no spatial limits. The God of the World was always so considerate with rookies.

"We must have been raised by a stepmother," Erik muttered.

Despite his despair, the young man's eyes moved at this remark.

"Tell me, how should I deal with you? First, tell me your name," Erik commanded.

"Jalawa," the young man said with great effort. "I'm a prisoner. Do with me as you please."

"Good. I like people who understand their position. Since our missions don't directly conflict, I'll give you a chance. It'll be tough, but it's the only way to survive, and it benefits me as well. Do you accept?" Erik said lazily.

Jalawa, who had already resigned himself to death, immediately thought to agree when he heard there was a chance for survival. But after hearing Erik's words, he hesitated, clearly wary of being manipulated into a trap.

He looked at Erik, silently hoping for some kind of guarantee. Though he didn't quite believe it, a word of reassurance might give him some peace of mind.

But Erik didn't fulfill this wish. He simply stared out into the distance.

Jalawa glanced at the dead bodies scattered around him, finally making up his mind.

"I accept," he said, forcing down his fear, his body sagging as though drained of strength.

"Good. Eat it," Erik tossed him a steel ball.

"There's no alien egg inside this, right?" Jalawa thought to himself, his scalp tingling with dread. He eyed the ball multiple times, eventually confirming his suspicion was unlikely. If it was some kind of alien egg, he would rather face a quick death. Luckily, this wasn't the worst-case scenario.

Though not the worst, it was still bad enough. With his life on the line, Jalawa hesitated, eyeing the nearby weapons, thinking quickly.

Seeing his inner conflict, Erik chuckled with pleasure.

"Jalawa, you can choose whether to eat it or not. I never force anyone. I swore never to stain my hands with others' blood, but you've brought it to me. You'll have to pay for your actions. Don't worry too much, I've always believed that treating others kindly is treating myself kindly. There's more than one road to Rome. I'm always grateful to those who choose other paths. You needn't doubt that."

"I know eating it will be painful. It will make you lose your ability to resist, but it benefits me, and we won't clash again. Then I'll send you to the main character. He's a kind man who will take you in. If things go well, I can suggest to him that he help you with your mission—of course, just a suggestion. Don't expect me to put in much effort for you."

Erik was blunt, leaving Jalawa in a passive position. His survival now depended entirely on luck, which actually alleviated some of his suspicions. Facing hell, Jalawa finally made up his mind, closed his eyes, and swallowed the ball. The hard steel scraped against his dry throat, making the passage unbearably painful.

What Jalawa didn't know was that the discomfort in his throat was just the prelude to the pain. Using his magnetic vision, Erik saw the ball fall into Jalawa's stomach, and then he activated his ability.

The reincarnator's body couldn't block external commands. The smooth steel ball quickly turned into a hedgehog, its spikes shooting out in all directions. They pierced through Jalawa's stomach lining.

The pain was unbearable. Jalawa gasped violently as though struck by a foreign object inside him. He opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound. Cold sweat the size of soybeans broke out, drenching his entire body.

Steel wires as thin as hair, like snakes with intelligence, coiled through his organs, avoiding the arteries and veins. They twisted around, sewing through his internal organs like a sewing needle, all the way to his lungs. By then, Jalawa could hardly breathe, but he wasn't dead. The torture was driving him mad.

"Restoring your normal state costs fifty points. The God of the World will fix it when you return. Next time we meet, I hope you'll be more polite. Now, please hold yourself together," Erik whispered in his ear, wiping away the drool at the corner of Jalawa's mouth. He propped him up on his shoulder and, like helping an old friend, walked toward the platform.

They had just stepped out of the corner when an immense will descended from above, passing through the earth, lingering momentarily at the scene of the recent massacre, and then disappearing. It was like a gentle breeze or an invisible light—silent and fleeting. The lingering aftershock passed through Erik's body without him noticing any abnormalities. At that moment, Erik's smile froze, and he only relaxed when the mysterious will vanished.

Slowly turning around, supporting Jalawa as he walked back into the corner, Erik saw that the six South Asian reincarnators' bodies had disappeared without a trace. Their torn clothes and discarded weapons were gone, and even the blood spattered on the walls had vanished as though they had never existed. The only remnants were two white women still unconscious. When they awoke, they would forget everything that had happened. This was the God of the World's routine cleanup. Had it not been for Erik's prior experience and the semi-conscious Jalawa still being by his side, Erik might have thought it was all a dream.

After leaving the God of the World's domain, this was the first time Erik had brushed past the God of the World.

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