When I came to, I was bleeding—bleeding profusely.
Not a little papercut on the finger or a dramatic nosebleed, but a full-on crimson fountain, “I can see my own blood puddle” kind of bleeding. The kind of bleeding that made you wonder if you'd have more blood in you if you'd drunk Bloody Marys instead of whiskey sours every day.
Status: Bleeding Out
-1 HP…
-1 HP…
“Okay, I’m gonna say it,” I wheezed, staring up at the sky as the world continued to blur. “I lied about having a girlfriend. You know that pink hoodie and jacket you always see in my apartment? They were actually… my mom’s.”
Sherry was kneeling next to me, pressing her hands against my shoulder like she was trying to stop a flood with a teaspoon. Her face was pale, her eyes frantic, and you could see that she was a little fed up.
“You’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while now, saying some seriously crazy stuff. And I know I’ve only just met you, and it’s the wrong time to say this, but that’s the saddest, most pathetic thing I’ve heard you say so far.”
Whatever Rumiel had given us to fight off those wolves was starting to wear off. I could feel a sharp sting in my shoulder now, and as I weakly chuckled, a wave of pain shot through me. I groaned, the world spinning, my breath coming in shallow gasps. My body felt like it was being shredded from the inside. The wolf’s claws had torn through my skin like it was paper, and now it felt like my entire arm was engulfed in flames.
“Just hold on,” Meryl’s voice cracked as he paced nearby, his hands running through his hair like he was trying to think of something—anything. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure there was anything anyone could do. I was bleeding out. Slowly, my vision began to dim.
* * *
Status: Bleeding Out
-1 HP…
-1 HP…
Sherry’s voice brought me back, though just barely.
“Rumiel, do something!” Sherry shouted, her voice even more desperate than Meryl’s as she pushed down harder into my shoulder, trying in vain to staunch the bleeding.
But there was no response. The voice we heard so often in our minds was absent.
“Never trust an angel with A-cup breasts.” The words escaped my lips before I could stop them, a weak, pathetic attempt at humor as the edges of my vision were starting to gray out. The pain in my shoulder flared again, and I could feel the blood draining out a little faster.
“Just shut up!” Sherry snapped.
* * *
Status: Bleeding Out
-1 HP…
-1 HP…
“It’s not about the shape or size. It’s about how you use it…”
* * *
Status: Bleeding Out
-1 HP…
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-1 HP…
“Black stockings really make me feel some kind of way…”
* * *
Status: Bleeding Stopped
Critical Condition
When I opened my eyes, twilight had already descended over the wasteland, painting the world in hues of blue and purple as a soft drizzle settled into the quiet. The bleeding… well, it had stopped. But the pain was almost unbearable. Sherry and Meryl sat hunched over me beneath the dim glow of the moon, their hair cascading over their collars as water dripped down to soak the earth below.
“Don’t move,” Meryl warned, as he laid a hand on my chest.
“That booze must’ve had some truth serum in it,” Sherry chimed in. “You told us way more about yourself than we needed to know.”
“You’ve got to tell me more about your escapades in the women’s lingerie section of the department store,” Meryl added, trying to contain his laughter.
It was clear that they were both tired and shaken, but diligently endeavoring to lighten the mood.
“Anything from Rumiel?” I asked, trying to sit up, but the effort made the pain in my shoulder flare. I winced, grinding my teeth together as I pushed myself up slowly.
“I said don’t move,” Meryl urged, gently pressing me back down. “You’re in no condition to be sitting up.”
“We can’t rely on her. She doesn’t seem reliable. I wouldn’t put it past her to leave us to die here.” Sherry’s tone was sharp. “If we die, what’s stopping her from finding the next suckers to summon here?”
“Don’t say that,” Meryl reprimanded. “I know she put us in this mess, but she did what she could. She probably has more pressing matters.”
Sherry shot back. “What’s more pressing than this? Barrett’s halfway dead and we’re not in the best shape either. And who knows what else is lurking out here?”
“We’ll just have to believe in her.” Meryl pointed at the dead corpses in front of us. “Those things would’ve killed us if it weren’t for her.”
Sherry placed two fingers on her temple, closed her eyes, and sighed. “Fine.”
I tried to focus on their words, but my mind was foggy. My chest was tight, and every breath felt like it was being dragged through broken glass. My shoulder throbbed with a deep, pulsing agony that seemed to beat in time with my heart—each pulse a white-hot stab that made it harder to think. It wasn’t just pain; it was a kind of searing, as if I was being torched by fire. I mustered what strength I had and glanced at Sherry. “Do you think… she’d really leave us to die?” I asked, my voice unsteady.
Sherry’s face softened slightly, but there was no denying the frustration in her eyes. “I just don’t know.”
A heavy silence fell between us, broken only by the rhythmic patter of rain against the ground. As I lay there, trying to process the situation, my mind kept going back to Rumiel.
She hadn’t spoken to us since we defeated the wolves. Not even a whisper in our heads. Nothing. Just… silence.
It didn’t make sense. She was the one who dragged us into this world in the first place, wasn’t she? She dumped us in a wasteland full of monsters, commanding us to bring alcohol back to the world with nothing but rusty weapons and vague instructions. Why go through the trouble if she was just going to abandon us?
“She said we were chosen,” I murmured, not really expecting anyone to respond. “Said we had potential, or some crap like that. But what if that was all just part of some script? Something she has to say to every new batch of cannon fodder?”
Meryl glanced down at me, brows furrowed. “You think she’s using us?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I said, grimacing as a fresh stab of pain lanced through my shoulder. “Maybe we’re just pawns in whatever twisted game she’s playing. Or maybe... maybe she’s trying to help, but she’s not as powerful as she made herself out to be.”
“Well, it was pretty obvious that she had no idea what she was doing.” Sherry rested her elbows on her knees. “But if she could speak into our heads like some divine GPS, she could’ve at least said something.”
The fire in my shoulder was roaring again, drowning out everything else, reminding me all too clearly that I was running out of time. Before I could speak again, something huge blotted out the little bit of moonlight that was breaking through the clouds.
A shadow.
I turned my head just in time to see it—something otherworldly, its wings spanning the sky with a sickening, bone-chilling screech that rattled my bones. A cross between a vulture and pterodactyl, its beady eyes locked on us, its beak snapping in anticipation, like it had been waiting for a moment just like this.
“Shit!” Meryl shouted, scrambling to his feet. “Get up, get up now!” He reached down, pulling Sherry to her feet.
The creature’s wings beat so violently that they sent gusts of wind whipping through the air, causing the rain to splatter against the ground in chaotic bursts. I could feel the vibrations in my bones as it hovered above us, its enormous talons outstretched like it was ready to pick us off one by one. Then with one fell swoop, clawed feet scraped against the cragged ground as it landed with a thunderous impact, scattering debris in every direction.
Combat initialized…
Barrett Walker (Level 1)
Class: Rookie
Weapon: Neglected Shortsword
Enemy identified: Wing Reaper (level ???)
Exp gain: ???
“I hate this place,” Sherry sighed as she grabbed her sword and Meryl helped me to my feet.
The beast let out another cry—louder this time—and the ground trembled beneath us.
“Same plan as usual!” Meryl shouted. “We run—and scream if you get caught!”
