#076. The Vortex of Desire (2)
John, reading Ray's lips, suddenly shouted in a fit of rage.
"Why?! Because you made a promise to me!"
There was no response.
"C-come here now! Save me! You know I have the antidote, don’t you?"
Again, silence.
"Sir, what do you mean by antidote...?"
Michael asked hesitantly from beside him, but John acted as though he hadn’t heard.
With trembling breath and bloodshot eyes, John fixed his gaze on the boy and roared:
"Save me now—!"
But John’s venomous shout died in his throat.
The moment their eyes met, his breath caught as if physically stifled.
It was an utterly bizarre sensation.
The boy’s pearlescent eyes held no discernible emotion. Not a twitch disturbed his features—no joy, anger, sorrow, or delight colored his expressionless face.
A blank canvas devoid of any brushstrokes.
Yet John couldn’t escape the visceral certainty that the boy was smiling.
A primal instinct, older than humanity itself, screamed this truth.
The boy was smiling.
He devoured satisfaction and delight while observing the hellscape of endless gunfire and screams.
When this realization struck, pitch-black terror flooded John’s veins. Cold sweat drenched his body twofold.
Each breath became a struggle.
And he knew—those white eyes were gazing into the darkest crevices of his soul.
"...!"
John tore his eyes away in panic, redirecting his stifled fury toward Michael.
"Wh-what are you doing?! D-destroy them all! Now!"
Michael flinched at the thunderous command but steadied himself, summoning mana.
‘What is happening...?’
Nothing made sense.
John and Skylar suddenly turning guns on each other.
The gunfight erupting as if waiting for this moment.
John’s uncharacteristic brutality.
No answers came—only reflexive obedience forged by years of loyalty.
—Screee!
—Skraawk!
Three familiars burst from the subspace within Michael’s coat. Hawks soared skyward, effortlessly dodging bullets as they circled the battlefield. Just as they began descending toward the mercenaries—
Thudthudthudthud—!
"H-help! The Rockdeers—!"
"Run! They’re coming!"
The panicked shouts shattered Michael’s focus.
The hawks aborted their dive, spiraling back upward as Michael whipped his head toward the commotion.
"—!"
His breath froze.
—Grooowl!
—Grrrrumble!
Rockdeers stampeded from their pens, assaulting the humans with brutal efficiency.
Goring. Trampling. Crushing.
Every possible method their powerful bodies allowed.
"Th-these bastards’ve gone mad!"
"Protect the chairman!"
"Shoot! Open fire!"
"Hold positions! Anyone who flees dies— Aaagh!"
Gun barrels swung toward the new threat, unleashing salvos.
But bullets pinged uselessly off the Rockdeers’ armored hides. A mere handful collapsed from cracked shells—drops in an ocean of hundreds.
"Why... why would Rockdeers...?" Michael murmured, stunned.
Mercenaries and guards fell like wheat before scythes.
Skulls crushed under hooves.
Bones shattered by charges.
Bodies impaled on horns.
Every textbook truth about Rockdeers’ docility collapsed in this moment.
Their jet-black eyes burned with rage, every movement screaming lethal intent for the human species.
‘I can’t use familiars like this...’
Michael bit his lip.
His priority was eliminating threats to get John proper treatment. But now the mercenaries weren’t the enemy—the familiars couldn’t pierce Rockdeer armor. At full strength, he might break a dozen shells. Then his mana would be spent.
His magic specialized in human combat.
‘Better to retreat by car—!’
Michael urgently scanned the surroundings.
Every vehicle lay overturned or destroyed by Rockdeers—save one.
Thud!
He spun toward the impact behind him.
A Rockdeer stood at the barrier’s edge, snorting violently. Others joined it, relentlessly battering their heads against the shield.
Thud! Thud!
Each time, it felt as if the world were shaking.
Cracks began to form in the barrier, and John, seeing this, panicked and shouted, "Wh-what are you doing! Y-you useless thing! Do you know how much I pay you? H-hurry up and earn your keep!"
Though still confused, Michael’s body moved reflexively.
He first poured white mana into the barrier to repair it, then controlled his summoned beasts to attack the Rockdeers.
—Screech!
—Squawk!
Beaks and claws sheathed in steel tore through the gray shells, shattering them as they raked across sky and ground.
Crack!
In an instant, the shells split open, exposing raw flesh beneath.
The Rockdeers fell bleeding under the relentless assault.
Yet they paid no heed to their wounds or fallen kin.
Their sole purpose seemed to be destroying the barrier, as they repeatedly retreated only to charge again.
Thud! Thump! Thud!
"I-I’ll die! I’ll die! Michael! D-do something! Anything! Y-you worthless trash! Ugh!"
John’s frantic screams continued.
Michael gritted his teeth.
The white mana within the circle was draining rapidly.
At this rate, the barrier would shatter before they could defeat all the Rockdeers.
Resolved, Michael knelt with his back to John.
"Sir. Climb onto me."
"Wh-what?"
"If we stay, we die. We must relocate to safety."
John couldn’t argue against that steel-edged tone.
With labored movements, he hauled himself onto Michael’s back.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The dome-shaped barrier shifted with Michael’s steps.
When John realized their direction, he shrieked, "Wh-where are you going? Stop! Stop now!"
"Our only chance," Michael replied flatly, ignoring the man’s thrashing.
Thud! Thud!
Rockdeers kept crashing against them.
Michael focused solely on maintaining his grip beneath John’s thighs, pressing forward.
At the path’s end stood a boy.
Behind him sat an intact vehicle encircled by a thick barrier glowing with pristine white light—far surpassing their own faint shield sustained by dwindling mana.
Tap.
Michael halted as barriers collided, blocking further progress.
Approaching the boundary, he met Ray’s gaze.
"Ray. Let us through."
He already sensed refusal, but desperation left no choice.
The boy stared before speaking:
"In here?"
"Yes. Please." Michael’s voice remained steady despite the edge beneath. "Leave him like this, and he’ll bleed out from shock."
Ray’s face stayed blank as ever, though inwardly enthralled.
Gunfire and screams echoed around them—beasts seething with rage, humans choking on fear and despair. Such concentrated extremes of emotion, rippling through countless vessels at once—a spectacle unseen anywhere else.
Like living starlight.
The thick waves of feeling brought Ray indescribable satisfaction merely to observe. And before him now stood the largest emotional mass in this clearing...
"You still respect him," Ray murmured, eyes sliding to John trembling on Michael’s back. The man kept his head bowed, muttering: "Michael...idiot...that devil...why...useless fool..."
Noticing Ray’s attention, Michael interjected, "He’s shocked and injured—not himself. He’d never speak this way normally."
"Or his true self is showing."
Ray’s gaze shifted to the violet mana mass in Michael’s vessel—his respect for John, unchanged in size since their first meeting. Impossible, given emotions’ volatile nature. They should fluctuate like tides, yet this devotion persisted even through constant humiliation.
...Though it trembles slightly now.
Ray inhaled. "Not angry this time? Isn’t calling out his nature an insult to someone you revere?"
"Say what you will. Just help us reach safety. If you have healing magic—even a first aid kit—please."
Calm words, but fury simmered in Michael’s vessel.
He’s clearly enraged yet suppresses it.
Ray recalled their last hotel conversation:
"What do you think respect is?"
After long deliberation, Michael had answered:
"A difficult question. I need time."
Disappointing, given the man’s unparalleled capacity for reverence. But perhaps today offered better answers...
"Do you know," Ray began softly, "who caused this situation?"
