"Being nice isn't exactly my strong suit. Keep bothering me, and I might accidentally mistake you for one of them."

  The beasts finally reached the stair level beneath them. Their forms were diverse. Some had fins, while others had a striking resemblance to all kinds of insects or mythical beings from folklore.

  A miscellany of odors reeked from their ranks—so strong it was almost tastable. Ayona’s tongue slithered between her lips, her sword radiating a sharp glow.

  "Oh my, well that would be a problem. Well, in that case..." She extended her hand and began balling it into a fist.

  The creatures suddenly began convulsing. Their bloodthirsty growls turned to shrieks of agony. Dozens of creatures couldn’t even manage a step forward. Even the bulkiest of them were kneeling in pain, while their eyes were on the verge of bursting from their sockets.

  She still had something like this up her sleeve?

  "Then why not erase them now? Can’t be having you confused. And besides..."

  A red mist began expelling from their bodies. The scales and skins of the creatures were shriveling like raisins. The scent of gore tickled their nostrils, while the groans of the creatures began fading from the hallways.

  "My appetite hasn’t been satisfied yet."

  The red mist moved like it had a life of its own and funneled itself into Ayona’s blade, leaving the dried corpses behind.

  The same striking glow emitted once again, but this time several times more vibrant.

  Dezira observed the sight with horror when she saw Ayona’s pleased expression, like she was experiencing pure bliss.

  "No way, is she taking their blood?" Dezira whispered. Her stomach turned at the mere thought, sending a flush of food toward the back of her throat. Fortunately, she was able to force it back down.

  "Why not do that at the beginning when you faced that three-headed reptilian?" Hezekiah questioned, remaining unperturbed.

  Ayona gave him a dumbfounded look. "Pitiful threats aren’t worth the effort," she declared after breathing out a foggy mist. "Consider yourself fortunate."

  Hezekiah frowned at her words. A part of him wanted to incinerate her on the spot, removing a potential headache.

  "If you say so." With those words, he left for the final time. Ayona didn’t come chasing after him and instead looked up the stairwell with an uncertain expression.

  Dezira was about to reach out to Hezekiah but stopped herself. Unsure whether he would be fine if she followed, she closed her fist and gave Ayona a nervous glance.

  "What are you planning to do now?" Dezira asked as she looked back and forth between her and the stairwell before them.

  "My little brother is a patient here. His safety comes first."

  Dezira creased the cuffs of her cloak upon hearing those words but still gave a light nod.

  "Let me come with you. Please don’t leave me by myself."

  Even if the floor was safe for now, that could change in a moment—and there's no telling when help will arrive.

  "Being my deadweight will only lead you to being dead, you know?"

  Dezira’s heart sank.

  "I’d rather die escaping death than letting it come to me first."

  Ayona scratched the back of her head, mulling over what to do with the girl. "What a pain. I’d rather not be directly responsible. But those pesky vermin can still come here anyway."

  Ayona shot her a thumbs-up as she went up the stairs. "Welp, hope you don’t mind detours. Next stop: the 15th floor!"

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  ——————

  After departing from Ayona and Dezira, Hezekiah summoned the pen and began writing on the notebook paper.

  It was still a mystery if he could add his own rules despite the current circumstances, but after encountering Ayona, what better time to test it while she was still here?

  6. If an Abna wields a rose-colored sword that is associated with blood, they will die within a few seconds.

  To his surprise, the Confirm or Deny options appeared on the paper.

  I can set the punishment for failure of observance?

  A slight relief coursed through him. But he knew all too well that even if he created new rules, they could still apply to him.

  He doubted The Rule of Suffering would forget such an oversight.

  Is it really that easy to kill her?

  As much as he wanted to eliminate any potential threats, the risk of her death being traced back to him weighed on him.

  She mentioned having companions—it’s doubtful they wouldn’t find out about her death. And they might have some weird tracking abilities to discover it was him.

  Let’s not rush things. But she still has to be dealt with.

  He reached the bottom stairwell. After making up his mind, he crossed out the rule. The words faded into particles before disappearing into the air.

  Surprised to see erasing a rule was possible, he crossed out the other five, but the line vanished, leaving the remaining rules unaffected.

  He clicked his tongue.

  "It was worth a shot," he muttered before revising the 6th rule.

  6. If an Abna wields a rose-colored sword that is associated with blood, they must break it in pieces before leaving the hospital, or else they’ll become an ordinary human.

  The Rules Dictionary must really hate convenience. Writing her name directly would be far less hassle. Speaking of which, shouldn't I check to see what words I can or can't write?

  After circling the Confirm option, a note appeared.

  –New Rule effective immediately.

  "No five-minute wait? Now that's what I call being useful."

  Having pen in hand, he left the stairwell and was now in one of the hallways on the first floor.

  Puddles of blood tainted the tile floor, while dismembered limbs were scattered about. Faint flickering lights dangled from above, swaying as if a light breeze were present.

  Already warned what possibly lay below, he cautiously tread across the floor.

  No corpses or people were in sight. A whisper had yet to reach his ears. The shards of glass and flesh crunching beneath his feet were exemplified by the silence—the creaking of the dangling lamps its only companion.

  Hezekiah surveyed his surroundings, an uncanny weight gripping him along the way. The gruesome calmness felt heavy, but the darkness that lay beyond the shafting lights weighed even greater.

  Each step he took furthered the feeling even more, sinking it to the point where his shoulders began to shudder. His gaze was locked; his feet edged toward the shrouded void.

  Hezekiah froze. Arm's length stood between him and the obscurity.

  The pressure mounted considerably. Sweat trailed down his neck as he resisted the intangible force.

  Without a doubt, something is waiting for me.

  With a thought, Hezekiah summoned the notebook paper and wished it to be in its surveillance state.

  The front page began to melt away as a hyper-realistic image swiftly took its place.

  Already equipped with night vision, the scene displayed without any issue.

  What?

  Contrary to his expectations, he saw three police officers standing there—clearly staring at him.

  What the f*ck are they doing? Watching me in the dark like a bunch of freaks?

  Hezekiah looked ahead toward their direction, waiting for a response.

  Seconds of silence went by. Hezekiah glanced again at his “camera,” puzzled.

  They're really not going to say anything?

  As he was observing them, they began exchanging looks with each other, then began approaching Hezekiah at a steady pace.

  Hezekiah took a few steps back, letting them emerge from the pitch-black hallway.

  Two of them already had their hands clutching their guns, ready to draw them at a moment’s notice.

  "Who are you?"

  The one in the middle spoke. His voice was cold, with a hint of agitation.

  "Now you want an introduction? Announcing yourselves earlier would’ve been nice."

  Hezekiah answered while sizing up the officer. His hair was a deep gray, and his wrinkles were prevalent, but his tall stature and sturdy physique would make one think twice about underestimating him.

  "That’s what we did last time, only to find out what we were speaking to wasn’t human. How did you get down here?"

  Hezekiah saw the officer’s eyes tracing every inch of his body as he spoke.

  "Did you not see me exit the doorway?"

  The officer’s expression turned sour.

  "Do you want a hole in your skull, kid? A few of those bastards fled up the stairs after being chased off by our bullets. And here you are, wearing the same old clothing as them, without a scratch on you."

  That is suspicious. Can’t blame them for not approaching me first, then. I might have no choice but to kill them.

  "Th–That’s because someone saved me! I don’t know how to explain it, but some girl wielded some strange power and killed them."

  He thought about lying to them, but given what the officers witnessed, a mostly true account might be better.

  The officers traded looks with each other before the two behind him gave a light nod. But their suspicious glare hadn’t dropped.

  "We already saw a person transform into a monster. Who’s to say what else exists?" one of the officers commented while relaxing his grip on the gun.

  "I’ll guide him out," the other added before speaking into his radio. "205 requesting backup at Queen’s Salvation Hospital. Requesting all nearby units."

  Hezekiah narrowed his eyes after he made that call. If it were anyone else, he would've swatted the radio from his hand and crushed it to pieces. Another rule being violated is not what he needed.

  But one question prevented him from doing so.

  Why do I still feel this immense pressure? And why has it only gotten stronger?