10 DAYS
Rex narrowed his eyes, gripping the handle of his dagger so tightly his knuckles turned white. The air in the Devil Merchant's shop was thick—too thick—as if the very atmosphere had congealed into something alive. The scent of burning sulfur clung to the room, mixing with the dry, metallic tang of blood long spilled and forgotten.
The Devil Merchant stood before him, his hunched frame wrapped in a tattered crimson robe. The hood concealed most of his face, but two glowing red slits—his eyes—pierced the darkness, watching. Measuring. Judging.
A frigid chill slithered through the room, sending a violent shiver down Rex's spine. His breath misted in the unnatural cold, the flickering candlelight around them dimming without reason. Shadows stretched unnaturally—not cast by light, but by something else. Something unseen. Something... sentient.
His instincts screamed at him.
This wasn't just an NPC. This thing was wrong. Twisted. Real.
Rex inhaled slowly, suppressing the primal urge to run. He wouldn't show weakness. Not now.
"Why are you helping me?" His voice was steady, but the undercurrent of suspicion was unmistakable.
The Devil Merchant tilted his head slightly, and for a moment—just a moment—Rex swore the shadows around them moved in tandem, like a thousand unseen hands adjusting themselves to listen.
Then came the laughter.
Low at first, like a dry rasp crawling out from a withered throat. Then deeper. Richer. Until it morphed into a howl of maddening delight, an orchestra of voices overlapping in a discordant chorus of the damned.
"Helping you?" the merchant rasped, his voice laced with something Rex couldn't quite name—mockery? Pity?
He took a slow step forward, and the room darkened instantly—not like a flickering light, but like a dying sun. The very concept of illumination seemed to recoil from him.
"Hah. You are but an ant crawling through filth, straining to understand the sky above you. Pathetic. Insignificant."
His fingers twitched beneath his robe, long, gnarled nails clicking together like snapping bone.
"But for him?"
A long pause. The temperature dropped further.
"If you are an ant... then I am but the shadow of one, crushed beneath his will."
Rex stiffened. There was weight in those words. A fear that felt too raw, too genuine for an NPC. This being—this thing—was powerful beyond measure. And yet, even he was afraid.
The shadows around them swelled, expanding like hungry things, stretching toward Rex as if sensing his heartbeat.
"Who is he?" Rex pressed, his grip tightening on his dagger.
The Devil Merchant's laughter died instantly.
The silence that followed was worse.
The candle flames stopped moving. Frozen mid-flicker. The very air stilled, as if something was watching. Listening. Waiting.
Then—the shadows rippled.
Not as an illusion. Not as a trick of light.
But as if something was inside them.
"You wish to know?" the merchant whispered. His voice had changed. Softer. Wrong.
The shadows at the edges of the room quivered, stretching toward Rex like grasping fingers.
"Then wait. Ten days. If you truly seek the truth, I will come to you."
Rex frowned. "And if I don't?"
The Devil Merchant leaned in slightly. The scent of burning ash and something rotten flooded Rex's senses. The dim light caught the corner of the merchant's lips, revealing jagged, blackened teeth, curved unnaturally, as if carved by something that had no concept of humanity.
"Then he will find you first."
A pulse—**a presence—**throbbed through the air like a dying heartbeat.
For a split second, Rex saw it.
A figure in the shadows. Too tall. Cloaked. Watching.
Then, gone.
The air returned, the candles flickered back to life. But the room was not the same.
Rex exhaled slowly, releasing the dagger handle. His fingers tingled, as if they'd been gripped by something else in the darkness.
He was about to step away when the Devil Merchant's voice slithered back through the silence.
"But perhaps you are not completely useless."
Rex narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
The merchant chuckled again, but this time, it was different—not mocking. Not cruel. But hungry.
"A test."
"A task."
The air tightened, an invisible force pressing against Rex's skin.
"If you truly seek knowledge, then in ten days, I will give you a task to complete."
"And if I succeed?"
The Devil Merchant grinned. Too wide. Too unnatural.
"Then you will be granted a glimpse. A fragment of the truth you seek."
"And if I fail?"
The shadows swelled again.
Not around the merchant.
Around Rex.
"Then he will notice you far sooner than he should."
A cold tendril brushed against Rex's throat. His breath hitched. He didn't move. Couldn't move.
Then—just as quickly as it came—the presence vanished.
Rex clenched his jaw, forcing his breathing to steady.
"Fine."
"Ten days."
The Devil Merchant's grin didn't widen—but Rex felt it.
"Good," the merchant whispered. "Pray that you are strong enough."
And with that, the room plunged into darkness once more.
When the light returned, the merchant was gone.
But the scent of sulfur remained.
Rex stood there, his heartbeat still racing.
Ten days.
A task.
But deep down, in the pit of his gut, he already knew the truth.
This wasn't just a test.
This was a countdown.
And failure…
was never an option.
Rex stood frozen, his fingers still tingling from the unseen touch that had ghosted across his throat. The Devil Merchant was gone, but the air remained thick with something unnatural—a lingering stain on reality itself. The wooden walls groaned under the weight of something unseen, as if the shop itself were alive, its ancient bones creaking in protest.
The flickering candlelight returned to normal. The shadows no longer stretched toward him. And yet…
His instincts still screamed.
A quick glance at his interface made his breath hitch.
[Playtime: 12 Hours 04 Minutes]
Twelve hours?
His stomach twisted into knots. It hadn't felt that long. Time inside God's Garden was fluid, deceptive—but Rex had played enough VR games to know when he was teetering on the edge of something wrong. His real body, outside this world, would be stiff, drained. His muscles would ache. He needed food. Water. Rest.
And most importantly—a safe location to log out.
His eyes flicked to the darkened corners of the Devil Merchant's shop. Not here. Not anywhere near here.
He turned sharply, boots clicking against the wooden floor as he strode toward the exit. But even as his fingers curled around the iron door handle, he felt it.
The unnatural chill hadn't fully faded.
His breath misted.
Something was still watching.
His grip tightened. Rex forced himself to breathe slow, steady. He wouldn't show fear. Not now.
With a measured exhale, he pushed the door open and stepped into the bustling night of Blue Wind Town.
---
Finding a Safe Zone
The town was alive, its streets illuminated by the golden glow of lanterns and flickering spellfire. Players moved in loose clusters, chatting, trading, sharpening blades for their next hunt. Normalcy.
And yet, Rex still felt the shift like a whisper against his skin.
Something had followed him out.
His sharp gaze swept the surroundings. A figure in a tattered cloak lingered at the alley's edge, unmoving. Watching.
The moment Rex turned to face it, it was gone.
He swallowed hard, pressing forward. He needed shelter.
As he moved through the crowds, his ears picked up snippets of conversations:
"Hey, did you feel that weird lag spike earlier?"
"Yeah! For a second, it was like the whole game just… stopped."
"Maybe a server issue?"
Rex's jaw clenched. That wasn't a server issue. He had felt it inside the shop—that unnatural stillness, the way the world itself had hesitated, held its breath.
Something outside the system had interfered.
His path still led him to the Inn of the Silver Ember, a mid-tier lodging known for its secure log-out rooms. No way was he risking sleep in the open, not after what had just happened.
Inside, he tossed two silver coins to the innkeeper, securing a private room. The moment the heavy wooden door locked behind him, he exhaled.
Safe.
For now.
---
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Rex still pulled up his inventory. Blades—sharp. Potions—stocked. Gear durability—intact.
No immediate issues.
And yet, a coil of unease remained, tightening around his chest like unseen chains.
He opened his NPC interaction log.
The Devil Merchant's name was still there.
Frowning, he tapped on it.
[ERROR: DATA UNAVAILABLE]
His pulse still spiked.
NPC logs didn't glitch. Even if an NPC was erased from the game, their record remained—a piece of God's Garden's immutable history.
But this? This was different.
It was as if the Devil Merchant had never existed. As if something had scrubbed him from the game's reality, but left a scar behind—a corrupted echo where his presence had been.
Rex stared at the error message, gut twisting.
His cursor hovered over it. He considered tapping again—but a sharp tick echoed in the room.
Like a clock, but slower. Deliberate.
He whipped his head toward the sound.
The candle on his bedside table flickered. Its flame had turned blue.
The air thickened. The walls creaked.
Then… a whisper.
A breath against his ear.
"You should not have seen."
A chill surged down his spine.
His muscles tensed, instincts screaming at him to move, but he was frozen, locked in place by something unseen. The room—his safe room—felt smaller. The shadows pressed in.
Enough for today.
He shut his interface. His muscles still coiled as he prepared to log out, every fiber of his being telling him that staying any longer would be pushing his luck.
[Logging Out in 10… 9… 8…]
He leaned back, exhaling. But the unease in his gut never faded.
Something had changed tonight.
And when he returned…
He had ten days to prepare.
Because whatever was coming next—
It still wouldn't wait for him.
Author note :hello guys i hope you like the story i am dark eye it is my pen name if you like this wanna by me a coffe can contact me through email darke2326@gmail.com and my line id darkeye2326 you can get advance chapters if you contact me thank you.can accept any ideas from you guys.