Chapter 115 (Patreon)

Ragnar Kagenou spoke with Tsumiki Fushiguro for a while.

Before long, a heavily built man stepped out from the crowd.

He did not look well. His face was pale, his body worn down, and his eyes kept moving over Ragnar with obvious suspicion.

“A newcomer?” the man said, his tone hard. “If you want to stay here, you need approval from at least half the people here. Otherwise… you should find somewhere else.”

Ragnar did not even look at him.

“Tsumiki. You two, come with me.”

The man’s brow twitched.

Ragnar had ignored him completely.

His expression darkened, and he reached out, intending to grab Ragnar by the shoulder.

Before his hand could touch him—

“You should lower that hand.”

The man froze on the spot.

He did not understand why. Ragnar’s voice had not been loud, nor had it carried any obvious anger.

And yet, in that instant, the man felt death brush against his neck.

His instincts screamed.

If he touched him, he would die.

Ragnar continued speaking to Tsumiki as though nothing had happened.

“You’ve survived here this long. Did none of you ever search for an exit?”

Tsumiki Fushiguro lowered her eyes and let out a quiet sigh.

“We tried. More than once. But every time someone went out, they barely came back alive. Most of them never returned at all.”

“There are far more Cursed Spirits here than outside,” Ragnar murmured, recalling what he had seen earlier.

For ordinary people to escape a place like this, the only way forward would be paved with corpses.

“I… I don’t know who you are,” the burly man forced out, his voice strained, “but you can’t just take the two of them and leave.”

Ragnar glanced at him once.

Then he walked past him without another word.

The man clenched his teeth.

“Then take us with you!” he shouted. “If you know a way out, take all of us!”

The expressions of the surrounding survivors changed.

The numbness in their eyes cracked, and a desperate, feverish light began to surface.

They had been trapped here for far too long.

Every day, they hid from Cursed Spirits. Every day, they gambled with their lives. They had been forced to survive in a world where one mistake meant death.

Now that someone who might know the way out had appeared, there was no way they would let that chance slip away.

“You. Blondie. Don’t even think about leaving by yourself. You’re taking me with you.”

“Me too! I can’t stay in this hell anymore!”

Several people moved to surround Ragnar, Tsumiki, and Suzuki Airi.

Their faces were fierce, their postures aggressive.

They did not dare act like this in front of Cursed Spirits.

But against another human?

That was different.

At that moment, a rough-looking man suddenly pushed forward, excitement twisting his face as he pulled out a service pistol.

This was their only chance to escape.

He could not let it disappear.

“Everyone, surround them!” he shouted. “Don’t let them leave! This guy knows how to get out! If we let him go, we might be trapped here for the rest of our lives!”

Cursed Spirits would kill without hesitation.

But humans would not.

At least, that was what they believed.

After all, they still thought of the outside world as a civilized society.

“If you have that kind of power, what’s wrong with taking us with you?” someone yelled. “Power comes with responsibility!”

“That’s right! Why are you only taking those two women? Don’t think we don’t understand what you’re planning!”

The crowd grew more and more agitated.

Some picked up steel pipes.

Some drew machetes.

Their desperation twisted into hostility.

“Don’t force us to get rough!”

The man with the gun squeezed through the crowd, pulled back the slide, and aimed the dark muzzle directly at Ragnar.

“I’ll say it one more time. Take all of us out with you, or none of us leaves this place alive.”

The burly man who had first spoken quickly moved to the gunman’s side.

“Are you insane? Don’t shoot! He knows the way out! If you kill him, we all die here!”

“Shut up!” the gunman snapped, kicking him aside. “Who do you think you are? I just want to get out of here! If I don’t do this, do you really think that blond guy will take us with him?”

The black muzzle remained fixed on Ragnar.

Unfortunately, they had chosen the wrong person to threaten.

Not everyone would be restrained by people hiding behind the language of morality.

A golden radiance began to shimmer around Ragnar.

Tsumiki Fushiguro, still unable to abandon her kindness, wanted to persuade them. But beside her, Suzuki Airi seemed to understand what Ragnar was about to do.

She did not try to stop him.

Ragnar was the only person who could take her out of this place.

And since she was one of the people he had chosen to bring with him, Suzuki Airi knew she could not afford to create trouble now.

“Tsumiki,” Suzuki Airi whispered, tugging on her arm. “Stop. Don’t try to persuade them anymore.”

Tsumiki looked at her. “But…”

“Please. Listen to me.” Suzuki Airi’s grip tightened. “Don’t say anything else. This is our only chance to leave.”

Tsumiki glanced at Suzuki Airi’s anxious face, and the words caught in her throat.

Ragnar looked at the crowd slowly closing in around him.

So they were threatening him.

Did they believe he would not dare to act against them?

Perhaps they did.

After being trapped here for so long, it would not be strange for their minds to have frayed.

But madness did not grant them the right to do whatever they pleased.

“Has no one ever taught you not to point a gun at someone?”

The gunman clearly did not take Ragnar’s warning seriously.

To an ordinary person, a gun was one of the most powerful weapons they could imagine.

“I can lower it,” the man said, his finger hovering near the trigger. “But first, you take us out of here. Otherwise, I’m not putting it down.”

He was certain.

Under the threat of a handgun, Ragnar would not dare refuse.

The surrounding survivors said nothing.

But their silence was consent.

As long as this worked, they could leave this living hell and return to the normal world.

Seeing that everyone stood behind him, the gunman’s resolve grew even stronger.

“You see?” he said, staring at Ragnar. “Everyone here feels the same way. If you don’t listen—”

Whoosh!

A streak of golden light flashed before everyone’s eyes.

The next instant, with a wet sound, the arm holding the pistol dropped to the ground.

“Eh?”

The gunman’s fierce expression vanished.

He stared blankly at the place where his arm had been.

Only a severed stump remained.

When he turned his head, he saw a glittering golden Noble Phantasm pinned to the ground nearby, already dissolving into particles of light.

“My hand…”

Tsumiki Fushiguro instinctively tried to speak, but Suzuki Airi held her back firmly.

“Tsumiki,” she whispered, her face pale. “Don’t.”

For a brief moment, no blood spilled from the wound.

Then the pain finally reached him.

“AAAAAAHHHHHH—!”

The man clutched his severed arm, collapsed to his knees, and screamed.

The crowd that had been so aggressive moments ago instantly lost its momentum. Their hands trembled around their weapons, and several people lowered their pipes and blades as they stumbled back.

Ragnar stood before the screaming man, his expression calm.

“You intended to kill me just now, didn’t you?”

“N-No…” the man stammered, trembling on the ground as he looked up at Ragnar.

Golden ripples spread behind Ragnar, bathing the air in a brilliant glow.

“No… please…”

A golden Noble Phantasm shot forward and pierced straight through his skull.

Then dozens more followed.

In an instant, his body was riddled with golden weapons, turning him into a lifeless pincushion.

“How…” someone whispered in disbelief. “How is this possible? What is that? Some kind of supernatural power?”

The survivors stared at Ragnar in shock.

Their mouths hung open, but no one could find the words to speak.

Ragnar had no intention of wasting any more time on people like them.

Not everyone was worth his attention.