Mythos Reboot

Chapter 7

The brutal war of faith concluded with the death worshippers collectively surrendering, leaving Wayne stuck in an awkward limbo of dissatisfaction.

He acknowledged the pistol's effectiveness, but this outcome completely ruined the atmosphere, wasting all his earlier complex psychological turmoil.

The shameless behavior of the Death Cultists made Wayne lose even the most basic reverence for this world's deities. Thinking about it, it made sense - with a cross-dressing leader who manipulated followers and exploited personas, the rot started from the head down. One couldn't expect death worshippers to stand firm unto death.

Wayne sighed with mixed emotions. This outcome wasn't bad - being utterly ordinary meant world safety equaled his own safety.

Nearby, the cultists stood in a line against the wall with hands raised. William, leveraging his formidable strength, proceeded to deliver physical "greetings" to each captive in turn.

One of the faces was familiar to Wayne - dockworker Pluto, who was smoothly taken down by William's combo moves.

Hadouken, Shoryuken, Tatsumaki Senpukyaku (X)

Left hook, right hook, rising uppercut (√)

Magic is just this unpretentious!

Only after everyone had quieted down did Veronica begin the interrogation, using the same old method—mushrooms so delicious they induced hallucinations.

Veronica had been tracking the Deathwalker's trail, never expecting to make such a major breakthrough in such a short time by successfully raiding one of their hideouts. But as the interrogation proceeded, she couldn't help feeling disappointed.

The Deathwalker hadn't attended tonight's gathering. The supposed leader turned out to be just an errand boy. Not only had Veronica come up empty-handed, but she'd also managed to alert their enemies.

The chances of waiting passively were too slim. When Veronica asked about the Deathwalker's whereabouts, she got the answer: "He went back to his hometown to get married.

Wayne scratched his head—how absurd, yet… so relatable. The mysterious mage in his mind suddenly became much more approachable.

After further questioning, Veronica learned the Deathwalker's full name and hometown address.

Mike Nelson, nicknamed 'Bloody Mike,' hailed from the small town of Caverno northwest of London's suburbs.

Mike came from a family of muleteers and came to the big city alone to make his way. He frequented the docks and warehouse district until one day, during a job dispute, he angered local gangsters and got beaten bloody—earning him the nickname 'Bloody Mike.'

Mike had neither connections, brains, nor money - destined to remain down and out his whole life. Barring accidents, he'd be squeezed dry by the docks, returning home one day with meager savings and a broken body when he could no longer work.

But somehow, Mike turned his life around. He became a follower of the Goddess of Death, mastered magic, and rallied a gang to carve out territory in the warehouse district.

Mike never spoke about what happened to him. He grew fanatically devoted to death, his personality undergoing a radical transformation.

While Veronica gathered information, Wayne couldn't suppress his curiosity and asked William: "William, in your knowledge, is the Goddess of Death male or female？"

“Female.”

William answered without hesitation, then added: "At least in outward manifestation."

“And in essence？”

“That I… why do you ask？”

"Well, when I blended into the crowd pretending to pray earlier, I heard a voice in my ear - not sure if it was the Goddess of Death - very deep, definitely a male voice asking if I was willing to offer everything." Wayne said with complete seriousness.

“That wasn't the Goddess of Death, but one of Death's three executors - Observer Grew. See that spider symbol over there？ That's the Observer's sigil.”

William clarified Wayne's confusion, then said in surprise: "Death never comes uninvited, but for the Observer to personally extend an invitation… you're lucky. This means you're highly compatible with Death."

William left something unsaid - that Wayne receiving the Observer's invitation likely meant he could become the Goddess of Death's earthly chosen, gaining power far beyond what ordinary Deathwalkers could imagine.

“Since when is catching Death's attention considered lucky？ That Observer Grew…”

Wayne's words were cut short as William clamped a hand over his mouth. Leaning close, William warned: "You're on the Observer's list now. Never speak his true name, or he'll take it as accepting the invitation. Understand？"

Wayne froze, then pushed away William's overly familiar hand. "And if he thinks I'm responding… what happens then？"

"His will would manifest here, branding you with the mark of a Death disciple," William said gravely.

“Gulp!”

William's voice was eerily cold, far from his usual sunny optimism. The stark contrast made Wayne subconsciously gulp, thinking how close that was - thankfully the gay guy intervened in time, otherwise with the Executor's will descending, they'd surely be in deep trouble today.

As he was thinking, a sudden anomaly occurred at the center of the warehouse. The inverted triangle symbol buried under green vegetation erupted with a surge of black light, its eight spider-legs twisting and coiling through the void, as if awakening from a sage's trance, becoming vigorous once more.

The distorted spider-legs vanished into the void, connecting to the realm beyond. A low murmuring reverberated throughout the warehouse, soon followed by the violent impact of a black curtain.

The dark shockwave swept across the entire space, bleaching everything in its path into shades of gray and white.

Veronica didn't defend, nor did William. They seemed mentally prepared for this moment - even waiting for it. Not only did they not defend, but they calmly accepted the baptism of black light.

The followers remained unharmed too. While the shockwave appeared terrifying visually, it actually possessed no physical lethality. After the black light dissipated, the gray-white warehouse returned to its original appearance.

Except for Wayne, who felt some kind of transformation occurring in his body.

“Veronica, are you alright？”

William tentatively asked, seeing Veronica shake her head, he sighed: "As expected, the curse isn't so easily lifted. Who said last time that two negatives make a positive… oh, that was my guess. Never mind then."

Veronica offered no comment, just rolling her eyes for William to interpret himself.

"If I may interrupt, could you elaborate on the curse？ Has the Observer's will descended？" Wayne's expression stiffened, his back soaked with cold sweat.

“It has nothing to do with the Observer, nor with you. The curse comes from the other agent of Death—the Arbiter. It was incurred for disrupting the ritual. I cast a spell on you to protect you from the curse's harm.”

William slapped Wayne on the shoulder, initially smug about his foresight, then suddenly widened his eyes in disbelief: "What's going on？ Where's my spell？ You… you've been cursed？"

“You're asking me？ Who should I ask then？ I don't know either!”

Wayne wore a woebegone expression. Of course he knew the reason, but while children confess mistakes, adults know passing the buck is the golden rule.

As expected, William thought his failed spell caused Wayne to be cursed. Flustered and stammering, he said: "Don't panic, you're not a magician, the curse won't seal your magic… Wait, how- how do you feel？ Any physical changes？"

While speaking, he began groping Wayne's body, who resisted by leaping away in an instant.

Where do you think you're touching! Those aren't places for same-s*x contact!

“There are indeed some physical changes.”

Wayne pursed his lips, his gaze drifting with feigned confusion as he spoke half-truths: "I'm starving, I want to eat something… hiss… the more I think about it, the hungrier I get."

As he spoke, his eyes fixed intently on Veronica, earning him a fierce glare. Wisely, he redirected his stare to William.

"Wayne… you're not thinking of eating people, are you？" William subconsciously took a step back.

“Not that kind. Just normal hunger - anything filling will do. Except potatoes… and… another kind of hunger.”

Wayne took a deep breath: "Not the body, but some indescribable place—I can't quite put it into words, let's say the soul for now. My soul craves magic, uh, magical energy to be precise… I'm not an expert, so I don't know how to describe it properly."

"Mana？" William blurted out.

“Yes, yes, that's it! I'm craving mana too.”

Wayne nodded repeatedly, affirming: "My soul thirsts for mana. Without mana replenishment, my soul would soon starve to death—yes, that's exactly it!"

At this point, he glanced at Veronica again and, unsurprisingly, received another fierce glare.

“The Inquisitor's curse is notoriously capricious and unpredictable—feeding on mana isn't impossible. But he's just an ordinary man with no mana to satiate his soul's hunger. Even if he had any, it'd be sealed by the recent curse. If left unchecked…”

A mini-lecture echoed from the corner. Wayne followed the sound and looked down to see Monica the black cat sashaying toward him.

"The… the cat talked," Wayne gaped in astonishment.

Monica leaped onto William's head and continued: "William, because of your mistake, an ordinary person got cursed. He'll die—you need to take responsibility for your error."

"What can I do？ The curse has sealed all my magic. The little I have left was barely saved through daily meditation—I can't help him." William pouted pitifully, blinking his thick-lashed eyes at Veronica.

“Ver…”

“Hmph!”

He got the back of her head in response.

Helpless, William lifted Monica high above him and said with a cheeky grin, "You're lucky—your magic isn't sealed. How about this？ You take care of feeding him, and I'll owe you one. I'll cook whatever you want in the future."

Monica was surprisingly agreeable, a thoughtful expression crossing her feline face. "I could, but I can't keep satisfying him forever—unless he learns to meditate and generate his own magic."

"But that's too difficult. He'll starve to death before then." William shook his head.

“Exactly.”

Monica nodded. After a moment, she wriggled free from William's hold and daintily hopped onto Wayne's shoulder, pressing her soft paw pads against his cheek.

Huh, such an adorable little toe bean!

Turning his face sideways, Wayne locked eyes with Monica's golden feline gaze as the latter rasped: "I can plant a seed of magic within you, guiding and helping you become a mage in the shortest time possible. But there's no free lunch in this world—I'll be your pathfinder, and from now on you must worship the Moon Goddess just like I do. Any objections？"

“None.”

Wayne's heart swelled with joy—to think that fabricating an excuse amid chaos could make him a mage! Truly a blessing in disguise.

Though, this combination of a magical girl and a talking, magic-granting cute pet… he seemed to have seen it somewhere before…