5- THE HEART OF DEAD SOULS

Meyer noticed that the Cutter was watching the woman he once loved—Emma—with growing interest.

It was as if something had flickered in the Cutter's mind.

He scanned his tool once more with his mechanical eyes.

Emma stood trembling in front of him, her frail body barely holding on.

There was something about that trembling that deeply unsettled Meyer.

Maybe it was the past.

Maybe something else entirely.

He glanced again at the card's words:

"If you wish to continue the game, kneel."

The sentence echoed in his mind, again and again.

But the tigress in front of him, arms clenched and eyes ablaze, didn't look like she'd allow it.

Meyer couldn't tell what to make of Emma—this fragment from his past.

Unwillingly, a memory played in his mind:

Magnus, on top of Emma.

Emma, beneath him, looking strangely... at peace.

As if she had taken the hope she'd once given to Meyer—

and handed it to Magnus instead.

From that moment on, the words Emma once said—

"I wanted to save you."

—sounded painfully ironic.

The Cutter slowly revved the motor of his piercing tool and raised it into the air.

The blades at its tip began to spin.

Meyer never even considered kneeling.

"I refuse!" he roared.

"Obedience is not in my nature!"

The Cutter tilted his head with a mix of amusement and disdain.

"Did I hear that correctly?" he asked.

"This unholy creature—this thing that deserves to be incinerated on sight—

is telling me it won't kneel?"

Emma had already fallen out of the Cutter's line of sight.

And out of his mind as well.

Meyer's eyes trembled with ferocity.

"No matter what, I won't kneel to you!" he growled.

Emma's lips quivered.

The vibration triggered a memory—

the moment her little brother became a demon.

At the age of two, he'd been seriously wounded.

Emma's father had traveled far to bring back a special medicine—

one that saved the boy…

but only fifteen years later.

They had already buried him.

They had believed a shrapnel wound had taken him in his youth.

Until one day—

the grave opened.

And Emma's brother slaughtered over a hundred men, women, and children in their village.

Tears streamed from the corners of Emma's tightly shut eyes.

"Will you kneel," the Cutter asked, his voice rumbling like thunder,

"or is your answer no?"

In response to this threatening demand, Meyer raised his head and smiled again—

a smile that taught lessons,

a smile brighter than even the stars above.

Hotter than the sun spreading like syrup on a burning pancake.

"No!" he shouted, and tore the chain from his neck, hurling it into the air.

The Cutter watched the chain spin above him.

The ID tag, wrapped in metal, dropped right at the toes of his massive boots.

The Cutter restarted the motor on his weapon and lunged forward.

"RAAAAH!"

Meyer, whose hands were still stained with the blood of past blades,

leapt with anticipation.

He aimed directly at the root of the Cutter's left arm.

But the limb didn't fall.

Instead, the tool spun wildly on its own—like a dream breaking loose.

"Let me go," Meyer grinned, "or watch your left arm wave goodbye to you."

Nothing happened.

The Cutter's arms were clearly bound together with something stronger than any logic—

as if his molecules had been fused with industrial glue.

Next move: the right shoulder.

Meyer jumped.

The Cutter rose too—

and drove the drill toward Meyer's chest.

He didn't care.

In midair, Meyer wrapped himself around the Cutter's legs, flipping backward with a twist.

The Cutter caught his hand and slammed him face-down into the dirt.

Meyer felt his jaw nearly snap.

He grinned in pain—

the kind of grin that comes not from suffering, but from satisfaction.

"Have it your way," he muttered.

He had sworn to learn the Cutter's intent.

And the best way to learn… was to get beaten.

The Cutter, however, was annoyingly delicate.

He didn't strike.

He just hovered the spinning drill over Meyer with a devilish grin.

Meyer's eyes glinted beneath the scream of steel.

A gust of cold wind struck the soil—

a cold so deep it could chill the heart of the Earth itself.

Inside his mind, Meyer saw flickering lights.

Not hallucinations.

Code.

Something inside his brain flashed.

Something mechanical.

And suddenly—he was vulnerable.

Quiet.

Like a breathless child.

Like a helpless kitten.

His body moved as if to fight back—

but something inside had stopped.

He heard it.

Clearly.

"Shall we initiate the Devil Chip?

You look like you could use it."

That mechanical voice wrapped around every cell of his being.

The decision was easy.

"Do it!" he screamed.

The moment he did—

his muscles swelled,

veins thickened,

his skin darkened—

and his height doubled.

He nearly stood eye-to-eye with the Cutter.

Emma clutched her mouth, letting out a muffled scream.

"I shouldn't have done this!" she cried.

She looked toward Magnus, who stood frozen, still watching them.

"Do something!"

But Magnus…

wasn't moving.

His face was frozen.

His eyes, locked on a single point.

The spider swarm had vanished long ago.

Emma only now realized why the spiders had disappeared after swearing loyalty.

She shook Magnus.

"Wake up, Magnus! Wake up! He's a shadow now! A demon's shadow! We should've never done this—never!"

Magnus didn't respond.

Meyer felt everything around him beginning to sway.

Something moved beneath the earth.

He could hear it—

the heartbeat of the world.

Suddenly, like mole tunnels breaking open, holes appeared at the feet of the two towering men.

From within—unexpectedly—spiders began to crawl out.

Each of them held silver blades

and every single one headed straight for the Cutter.

Emma finally understood what it meant when they swore their loyalty.

Meyer looked at the spiders.

"Attack! I want his head!"

The Cutter roared and kicked at the surrounding spiders with his massive leg.

"You'll never take my head!" he bellowed.

"At this point," Meyer said coldly, "I want more than just your head."

The spiders began doing what they did best—

flinging sharp tools into the air.

Silver blades soared skyward

and rained down like marble daggers aimed at the Cutter's skull.

But even that—

even this precision and volume—

wasn't enough.

The strength, the hardness, the "cutting" built into the Cutter's body

made him nearly invincible.

The only effect was slight irritation.

Just enough to rattle his nerves.

"You little punk," the Cutter growled.

"You won't be able to explain this to Code 43."

"Code 43 is ash," Meyer said,

and hurled a spider at the Cutter's face.

One of its legs stabbed into the Cutter's eye.

"AARRGGHH!"

"Yeah," Meyer muttered with a grin.

Then he heard it—

a voice ringing through his mind:

"Devil Chip activated. Connecting to Code 43."

As the Cutter fell into the hands of the spiders,

Meyer paused, finger on his chin.

"Code 43?" he muttered.

"Who the hell is that?"

Suddenly—like a psychic quake—a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hello, Cutter."

"Cutter?" Meyer echoed.

"I thought he was the Cutter."

"Call yourself whatever you like.

You've come to break the system.

There's rebellion boiling in your soul.

I'm Code 43.

And I congratulate you for refusing to kneel before the demon you were assigned to.

Clearly, you have a talent for recognizing devils.

Come to the Tower.

You know the place."

Meyer's head spun.

His stomach turned.

"Do I?"

He was confused—

completely.

"That place…?"

Just then—he heard a crack.

The sound of shattering ice.

The frozen crust around Magnus's neck split open.

Crack.

His neck popped audibly.

Magnus roared, staring at the fallen Cutter.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!

WHAT HAPPENED HERE?!"

Emma tried to calm him.

"Easy—please—"

Meyer watched Emma try to hold Magnus back.

But Magnus shook her off and lunged forward.

"You filthy devil! You can't control my spiders!"

"Huh," Meyer grinned.

He raised his right fist toward Magnus.

Magnus froze as he caught it.

"…Huh?" said Meyer.

"This happened earlier too. Wait…"

The sharp smell of ice filled his nose.

He gagged—

and vomited.

"Am I… turning people to ice?"

He stared at his right hand.

Could it really be his punches?

But if that were true—

why hadn't any of the countless strikes against the Cutter frozen him?

Why was it just this man?

He glanced at Emma—

at her tear-filled eyes.

When Emma cried...

Emma wiped her tears.

And the ice around Magnus shattered,

exploding outward.

The blast knocked Meyer off balance,

and with his towering body—

he collapsed to the ground.

"…What the hell is happening?"