There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL)
Chapter 644: Side Story 2. Dance of Flame and Shadow - 3

Chapter 644: Side Story 2. Dance of Flame and Shadow - 3

The place was dark, darker than he thought. He would recognize the fear creeping into his heart if he wasn’t too proud to admit it.

But his young, scarred heart did not want to admit that he wanted to go back and forget everything. He didn’t want to say there was nothing left he could do and just give up.

And so he marched forward, with nothing but anger and pain fueling him. Shouldn’t he, at the very least, have closure? Did he not have the right to even that?

Anyway, the place was dark and eerie, but he could live with that. Objectively, the place was even compatible with his skill. He had come across several beasts and weird creatures earlier, but he was being smart and moving through the shadows, avoiding dangers. With this, he should be able to roam around the Deathzone as much as he could before using up all of his rations and having to get out again.

He wondered how many times he would have to go back and forth before finding what he was seeking...

"Ronan Hertz!"

The young scout had been planning to run away if any of the Unit’s personnel tried to catch him, but he didn’t expect one who knew his name would come. His first instinct was to flee, but he couldn’t help halting his steps because for a second--for a second of foolishness, he thought that voice belonged to the person he had been looking for.

For a foolish second, he thought that voice might belong to his father.

How stupid.

His father’s voice wasn’t that deep and hoarse--certainly not that loud and powerful. But he was also curious. Who could it be; who knew his name, and knew that it was him who had snuck into the Deathzone?

That few seconds of foolishness when he stopped and turned his head around, however, was the few seconds that another used to prey upon him.

Khieeek--

Ron threw himself to the side when he heard the low hissing behind him. He collected his mana, planning to use his prized shadow teleportation, but the creature attacking him was relentless, giving him no chance to concentrate.

"Fuck!"

That skill was something he newly gained as a reward for finishing the second-floor quest, so he had yet to master it thoroughly. He should be able to activate it instantly with high proficiency, but at that point, he was just a two-year-old career esper--just parrying the creature’s attack kept him on his toes, so he couldn’t even think of attacking back.

But he didn’t come inside this hell with a weak determination.

"Fuck you! You are not going to get me the way you get my father!" he snarled back at the hissing creature, who looked like it was made of a raging soul and tattered cloaks.

He didn’t just bark with his mouth, but with his whole body; he kicked the ground and used one dagger to defend himself while swinging another dagger toward the shrieking creature’s face. Fueled by nothing but anger and madness, he stabbed and slashed the creature’s limbs and pace frantically.

"Is it you? Huh? Are you the one who killed him?!"

When things seemed to lean to his side, the creature let out a dizzying shriek, and the fluttering rotten cloak slapped him with the force of a falling tree. He was flung toward a tree and only avoided breaking his back because of the artifact cuirass he wore beneath his shirt.

But what was the use of surviving spinal injury if his daggers were flung out of his hands? Before he could even take a breath, the creature had already rushed toward him with clawed hands and hissing laughter--until a blazing claymore struck the creature and flung it away from him.

With blurry sight and a dizzy head, he squinted his eyes at the incoming fire, which he soon found out was actually a man. Well, there was indeed fire on the person’s head. The ground shook as the man ran toward him and grabbed his head, staring into his eyes.

"Are you crazy?!" the man shouted at him, and he realized it was the voice who called out for his name earlier.

The man looked like he wanted to hurl a long, berating speech at him, but the creature wasn’t dead yet, and was shrieking in fury. Clicking his tongue, the man let him go and walked toward the blazing claymore. In a casual move that annoyed him so much, the man swung his claymore and cleaved the creature, burning it into nothing.

As if he was just coming back from stomping a bug, the man returned with a nonchalant gait. The dark eyes, however, were deep and sharp. "Are you Ronan?"

He pushed himself off the ground and grumbled. "I can kill it on my own."

"Sure," the man replied swiftly and repeated. "Are you Ronan?"

He did not reply and stomped his way toward his flung dagger in annoyance. One was thrown to the ground and the other was struck by one of the grotesque-looking trees. It stuck rather deep and pulling it out was such a chore. Thinking that he wouldn’t have to go through this adversity if he didn’t hear his name being called earlier...

"Fuck--if I wasn’t distracted because of that damn shouting!" he swore under his breath and used the anger to put the strength in his hand and pull the knife out.

He sheathed the dagger in annoyance and started to walk away, but a strong hand grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "Hey, wait!"

"Get off!"

Rightfully, he was getting more and more angry. Glaring at the fiery man--who was way bigger than he initially thought--he activated the mana he had been pooling ever since he stood up earlier, and his figure started to dissipate.

But the man, an esper with more than a decade of experience than him, blasted their surroundings with a bright fire that erased the shadow around them. The mana, which had been flowing out of him, found nothing to cling to and sent back to him in reverse.

"Urk--"

He doubled over in a sudden pain, dangling on one hand still being gripped tightly by the blazing man, who still had the audacity to demand a reply. "I ask you a question."

"So what if I am him?" he glared even fiercer, eyes reddened by tears pooling from the pain. "Let go!"

"No," the man said dryly and yanked him up. "You shouldn’t be here."

"It’s not your business whether I’m..."

Ron paused as something whirred in his head. The man knew him--knew his name--and went out of his way to drag him back even though he could just let him die or whatever inside the Deathzone. It only meant one thing--

"You!" Ron gritted his teeth and glared at the man with a pair of eyes filled with accusation. It seemed to do something for the man because the grip lessened slightly, and Ron could pull his hand away. Instead of escaping, however, he pulled out his dagger and rushed toward the man. "It’s you! You’re the one who keeps denying my entrance!"

As if stunned by the unexpected action, Agni did not react as the young scout tackled him to the ground and stabbed his shoulder--or trying to. The beginner dagger wouldn’t be able to penetrate his berserker skin--much less after being deterred by his Captain-issue coat.

As the flimsy dagger was pounding his shoulder, Agni had a clear view of the scout’s angry face above him. Fuck--it was his fault. It was because he told the headquarters to reject Ron’s applications that the young scout became desperate enough and ended up sneaking into the Deathzone by himself instead.

"You bastard!" Ron screamed in frustration, threw his dagger away, and started hitting the berserker with his hand. "You fucker! You rob me! You’ve been robbing me from my right!"

Agni caught the scout’s hand. Not because it was hurt--it barely felt anything, honestly--but because he didn’t want Ron to crack his hand trying to hurt a sturdy son of a bitch like him.

"Fuck you! Let me go!"

"No," Agni got up, prompting the young scout to stumble back with hand securely in his hold. "What are you trying to do here? Die?"

The feisty scout spat on him. "You have no right to know!"

"Is that so?" Agni sighed heavily and swung his hand, expertly hitting a few points in the scout’s back. "But I have the right to prevent unauthorized personnel from entering the Deathzone."

"Ugh..."

Ron lost the strength of his muscles and slumped down, but the berserker hoisted him up easily as if he was made of paper and slung him on the shoulder. It might be his fault that the young esper was feeling desperate, but that was exactly why he couldn’t let this man--this kid--venture even further.

"No..."

Ron muttered weakly as he felt his weightless body getting further and further away from the deep darkness of the Deathzone. His hands, devoid of energy, desperately clawing at the empty air, at the darkness he couldn’t penetrate.

The darkness where his father’s body should be.

"Father..."

Further and further away, his consciousness waned, and exhaustion filled his body. Perhaps it was frustration, or he was too tired of everything. The feeling he had been buried since the day his mother died was flowing out, and he sobbed into the back of a stranger he met for the first time.

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