The supernatural.

I get pushed off, landing hard against the unforgiving ground. What was that energy just now? I can't help but ponder, feeling a knot of confusion twisting in my stomach. Roy turns back to me, extending a firm hand to help me back on my feet. I grasp my shotgun tightly and take his hand, pulling myself up with a grunt.

Just as I'm about to ask him what that strange force was, I hesitate. Maybe asking him will raise suspicion. After all, William would have known what that was...

The way Roy addresses me with "Sir" suggests to me that William was an exceptional man, perhaps even revered in some circles. He was exceptional enough just to not get any unwanted attention—or so I assume. To get a cocky and arrogant man like Roy to call you "Sir" must have required a significant feat of character.

Soleil approaches the house slowly, his footsteps crunching on the gravel, shattering the eerie silence that envelops the surroundings. I stand two people behind Soleil—Roy and Fayer. This certainly indicates that William had some notable status—but I can't shake the oddness of not finding any badges at his house. Soleil's hand lingers on the doorknob. Just as he was about to open it, a sharp pain slices through my head. It feels as if a matal rod with a sharp end has pierced through me. I close my eyes, pressing my palm against my temple, desperately trying to quell the excruciating throb.

All of a sudden, a torrent of information about this world floods my mind. A visual of Thousands of texts floating hovers over my mind.. but.. why is this happening now?—not to mention, what triggered this strange phenomenon? Is it William's own memories and knowledge surging back, merging with my consciousness? It feels as though our minds are colliding, intertwining in some inexplicable way.

A flashback of William flashes before me—before I transmigrated into his body. He's sitting at the wooden desk, writing diligently in the notebook stored in his closet, the faint scratching of the metal nib of the pen echoing in the quiet room. After he's finished writing, he closes the red ink container and puts it and the pen inside the drawer—He then lays down on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling for a long moment, before it seems like I slip into his body, cloaked in his consciousness.

I find myself sifting through a wealth of information about the Regional Ebili Police Department (REPD, for short). It seems this department is divided into two sub-departments.

The first handles normal crimes—murder, theft, smuggling, kidnapping, and the like. But the second department, the one William belongs to, is tasked with dealing with the supernatural.

What exactly constitutes the supernatural, I wonder?

Another flashback crashes into my mind.

William strides confidently towards the REPD-D2 building, the one located at 1034 Solenmore Street. It appears to be his first visit, yet he emits a commanding aura that starkly contrasts my own nervous fidgeting as I first entered it.

Upon entering the building, he spots Roy Nach, who is caught up in a conversation with Soleil Breaux, seated casually behind the counter with an air of authority.

William approaches Soleil, his shoulder brushing against Roy's, who glares at him with a mixture of annoyance and cockiness.

"I'm here for the job appointment," William states, his voice soft yet imbued with an undeniable dominance.

Soleil turns his head to assess William, his eyes methodically roaming up and down, taking in every detail of his figure, reading him like an open book.

"Ah... you must be William," Soleil said, adopting a façade. However, William could see right through it, noting the slight annoyance in Soleil's voice. Roy was glaring at him, his eyes burning with a mixture of annoyance and arrogant confidence—an intense desire to assert dominance over William was palpable.

"Hey, what makes you think you can just come here like that?" Roy shouts, voice tight with anger, his teeth gritted and fists clenched at his sides. William turns his gaze to Roy, scrutinizing him. Roy was a man quick to anger, with a fragile ego that often betrayes him—a glaring weakness that William recognizes immediately.

"And what makes you think you're better than me?" William replies, maintaining his calm composure, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"How about we figure that out in a duel? With duel pistols," Roy challenges, the burning hatred in his eyes only intensifying.

"Fake guns, huh? Are you afraid of using real ones?" William shooys back sarcastically, a carefully crafted edge to his tone that only fuels Roy's anger further.

"Oh, underestimating me, are you? Fine, we'll do as you say, William." With a swift motion, Roy produces two gleaming metal revolvers from his pockets, tossing one to William, who catches it effortlessly. He examines the revolver briefly before tucking it away nonchalantly into his pocket.

"Guide me to where you want to do this, Roy." William emphasizes Roy's name, his voice laced with a hint of mockery.

Soleil, standing to the side, observed their tense exchange with keen interest. His shaggy green hair fluttered in the wind that gusted through the wide-open door, while his hazel eyes darted between William and Roy. This was a golden opportunity for him to gauge both of their capabilities—especially William's—who, unbeknownst to Soleil, possessed a reservoir of hidden talent kept under wraps.

Roy leads William to an isolated field surrounded by tall walls, creating an atmosphere charged with anticipation. They position themselves a few feet apart, measuring up one another with cold stares. William mirrors Roy's steps back, both of them preparing for the impending confrontation.

Maintaining a safe distance, Soleil positions himself strategically to witness the duel while safeguarding himself from any stray bullets. A bemused smile crept across his face; the prospect of witnessing this clash of wills was both amusing and intriguing.

Suddenly, the sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the air. Roy had fired at William, puffing up a cloud of smoke from the barrel.

To Roy's shock, William stands unharmed, having deftly dodged the bullet's path with barely a flinch. A flicker of surprise crosses Roy's face, but he quickly masked it, swiftly dashing to the side and aiming to shoot again. William sprinted in the same direction, his shoes skidding momentarily on the moist soil as a bullet narrowly misses him, whizzing past with a menacing hiss. In a flash, William pulled the trigger on his revolver, the bullet neatly slicing through a few strands of hair from Roy's head.

Furious, Roy retaliates, aiming his next shot directly at William's weapon. The bullet collided with William's revolver, knocking it violently from his grasp and sending it clattering to the ground.

William glanced at the revolver now lying in the dirt before returning his gaze to Roy, who wore a smug, arrogant smile, momentarily basking in his victory. Unbeknownst to him, this moment of overconfidence will cost him dearly. With a sudden burst of speed, William lunges at Roy, catching him completely off guard.

"What are you—" Roy begins, but his protest is cut short as William lands a powerful punch squarely directly on his face, sending him crashing down onto the unforgiving earth. Without hesitation, William seizes Roy's revolver, raising it and pressing it against his trembling hand before pulling the trigger. The bullet tears through Roy's flesh, eliciting a gut-wrenching groan of pain as blood streamed from the wound.

Clutching his injured wrist tightly, Roy feels the heat of humiliation flood through him as he struggled to comprehend just how quickly the tables had turned. William looms over him, an intimidating figure, his voice resonating with authority, "You'll address me as 'Sir' from now on, got it?"

Tears wells up in Roy's eyes, spilling over as frustration and humiliation blurs his vision. His fragile ego lay shattered at his feet, and in that moment, he succumbs to his emotions, crying out in a mixture of pain and despair—just like a little baby.

I feel a little sad, knowing that my estimation of William being an unprofessional was wrong. He was just the perfect leveling of exceptional. Outstanding enough to make his teammates acknowledge him, yet not get any attention from the unwanted.

The flashback flickers momentarily in my mind, but it quickly dims, like an old film reel losing its brightness. I find myself adrift in an unsettling reality, surrounded by an all-consuming expanse of black—nothingness stretches infinitely in every direction, pressing in on me like a heavy shroud.

Examining my hands, surprise washes over me. They are not the familiar fleshy appendages of William's body but rather thin and frail, reminiscent of my previous form as Masatoshi Kazuta. The name resonates within me, now echoing with a certain nostalgia.

Instinctively, I touch my face. The unmistakable mole that marked William's cheek is absent; the realization strikes me like a bolt of lightning—I am no longer inhabiting William's body. But why? A wave of confusion washes over me as I scan the void around me, only to be met with the oppressive darkness that stares back. Am I dreaming? The thought crosses my mind, tinged with uncertainty.

Suddenly, a figure materializes before me, floating effortlessly in the same void. He has disheveled dark blue hair that seems to defy gravity, complemented by deep-set, dark blue brows and piercing eyes. Tall and well-built, the man possesses a mole on the left side of his cheek—the unmistakable feature of none other than William Lidford Lias, but presented as a distinct entity, separate from the body I once occupied.

"Masatoshi… how has life been treating you?" William's voice resonates in the silence, a curious blend of familiarity.. not that I hear it everyday.. I feel as if though I have heard it before I transmigrated in his body.

"Uhm… I've been fine, I guess?" I stammer, the words tumbling out as a mix of nervousness and bewilderment.

William nods, his eyes closing momentarily as if mulling over an unspoken thought. Just as he seems poised to articulate something profound, I interrupt him.

"Hold on, will you? Why am I here? Why am I in your body?" My questions spill forth, tinged with a frustration that burns hotter with each word.

William meets my gaze, his expression thoughtful. "You aren't eligible for that information yet," he replies, his voice steady and calm.

Anger wells within me. Is he playing some sort of game? "What are you suggesting? How can I become eligible?" I demand, my voice a mix of fury and desperation.

"Just spend a few more weeks in my body, then I'll tell you. But remember, I am the reason you transmigrated into my body." he states gently, as if delivering a promise wrapped in both patience and understanding. His confession catching me off-guard.

In an instant, my vision blurs, and I awaken back before the abandoned house, just as I had left it. Roy Nach stands before me, while Soleil is poised to open the door to the house. Wait… did time just freeze? A flicker of doubt creeps in as I assess my surroundings. It feels as if no time has passed at all. An ache stirs within me, sharp and insistent, but I dismiss it with resolve. Whatever is about to unfold, I must brace myself as Soleil's hand grips the doorknob, ready to pull it open.

Soleil grips the door-knob and pulls it open, unleashing a surge of energy that washes over me and the others like a tidal wave once again. I clutch my shotgun tightly, mimicking the stance of the others as we aim our weapons forward and step hesitantly into the building. Upon entering, I am immediately enveloped by an oppressive darkness, thick as a fog, with no light to guide our way.

Fayer, ever prepared, quickly retrieves a candle from his pack, the flickering flame catching the air as he strikes it to life with a flintlock lighter. He holds his shotgun steady between his legs, a practiced move born from necessity.

As the room gradually illuminates, shadows leap around us, and the sound of each cautious step echoes ominously in the stillness. Then, abruptly, a loud noise emanates from somewhere to our left, a jarring interruption that jolts my senses. Fayer instinctively pivots, directing the soft glow of his candle towards the source of the noise, clarifying the encroaching shadows.

Just a few feet away, a grotesque creature comes into view, its form unidentifiable and monstrous. It is a nightmarish thing, with multiple limbs protruding grotesquely and more eyes than I can count, glistening wetly with a slimy texture that reflects the candlelight. As it locks its multifaceted gaze onto us, I can feel its heavy, labored breaths brush against my skin, a sickening sensation that sends a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"CHARGE!" Soleil commands, his voice slicing through the tension like a knife. We all instinctively point our shotguns at the creature, our resolve solidifying despite the fear coursing through us. The creature emits an ear-piercing scream, a sound that reverberates in the back of my mind and sends a shiver racing down my spine. In a burst of movement, it scrambles up the walls, defying gravity, then launches itself towards us with terrifying speed. Instinctively, we dive out of the way, narrowly avoiding its monstrous weight crashing down in our midst.

A deafening gunshot erupts in the air—the first shot fired is from Roy, and it's immediately followed by my own. I have never fired guns before.. but my body seemed to be moving instinctively, as if William's muscle memories were implanted deep into his body, that was now shaking itself. I aim my shotgun at the airborne beast, squeezing the trigger with resolve. The bullet that I fire is unlike any I've ever seen; it is shrouded in darkness, a swirling black aura clinging to its form as it streaks through the air. Both Roy's and my shots find their mark, slamming into the creature with a sickening thud. It groans, the sound a mixture of rage and pain, and its body begins to ooze a viscous, green liquid from its wounds.

Then, in a twist of fate, a dark aura suddenly manifests beneath Roy's feet. As the creature lunges towards him, intent on grabbing him, he leaps into the air—supernaturally high, defying all natural physics. As he ascends, Fayer charges forward, his fists glowing with the same eerie dark energy. He punches the creature with a force that seems to ripple through the air, sending it crashing backwards, ripping through the wall with a horrifying screech before it tumbles outside.

The horde of people waiting outside rush towards the creature, firing their weapons relentlessly, each bullet finding its mark as the monster shrieks in agony. Soleil bursts through the doorway, scattering what appear to be black seeds around the writhing beast. He begins to recite a chant, his voice resonating with power.

"Let the void goddess envelop all with her never-ending darkness—including the un-guided spirits that reside in this world." His words hang heavy in the air, as an Octagram warps into existence above the creature—looking like the one that sent me to this world. A strong gust of wind surges through the doorway, my trench coat billowing around me like a cape, adding to the chaos.

Suddenly, the creature begins to disintegrate, its form breaking apart into a myriad of pieces, dissolving into the shadows until nothing remains.

A torrent of questions floods my mind, battling for attention. Who is the void goddess? What type of creature did we just confront? How did Fayer have such strength to punch the creature through the wall? And how could Roy jump so impossibly high!?

But those questions remain unanswered, lingering like a dark cloud over our victory.