Chapter 27 — The Cold Smile

Chapter 27 — The Cold Smile

I quickly activated my skill, Training Room, and found myself in a safe place — the same stone room as always. I hurriedly created a Health Potion and drank it. Doing it with one hand was extremely difficult.

Damn Soren… He almost cut my arm off. Just a little deeper — and I would’ve lost it completely. I don’t even know if you can regrow an arm with a Health Potion or at least reattach it… and I’m not planning to find out.

The bleeding slowly began to stop, and I felt a little better. But one potion clearly wasn’t enough. I started creating new potions in rapid succession and drinking them one after another.

The wound on my arm healed almost completely, but suddenly my head spun violently.

Oh… looks like I overdid it with Health Potions.

My vision darkened rapidly.

--

Damn it!

A headache… nausea…

What the hell? I’ve never felt this bad after waking up.

[Status]
[Name: Alisar
Level: 60
EXP: 4,441,565 / 7,300,000
Rank: 3

HP: 7,861 / 15,950
MP: 17,240 / 17, 240
Strength: 421
Defense: 497
Speed: 677
Intelligence: 310
Magic Power: 305
Magic Defense: 749
Free Attribute Points: 0

Skills: Swordsman (Rank 1)
Special Skills:
• Training Room (Rank 3)
• Alchemy (Rank 1)]

I opened my status window, trying to understand why I felt so terrible. Half of my HP was gone.

Right before I lost consciousness, my HP had been at 100%.

But it seemed the poison kept working the entire time I was out.

Ah… again! My HP dropped by another point.

I need to restore it to full as fast as possible.

I thought maybe a skill would appear — Poison Resistance, Poison Immunity… or something like that. But yeah, expecting such a skill to just appear out of nowhere was stupid.

Fine.

If I drink Health Potions one after another, my HP will rise, and my body should fight off the poison.

Rem once said: Health Potions are universal.

They help against wounds, illnesses, and even poison.

If I give my body enough time and drink enough potions, it should be able to overcome this poison.

I created a Health Potion and was about to drink it when my body suddenly convulsed.

Kkh—! Kha-kha!

Blood splattered across the floor, mixed with some kind of chunks.

For a moment, I panicked, thinking I had coughed up my own internal organs…

But no — that was just a stupid, panic-induced thought.

There was a lot of blood.

And mixed with it — pieces of my earlier meal.

That meat sandwich… or whatever was left of it inside my stomach.

It all spilled onto the stone floor in front of me.

Panicking, I quickly drank another Health Potion — and almost instantly felt better.

Yeah… much better.

Wasting no time, I began creating potions again and downing them one after another.

[Experience Reached]

[Special Skill “Alchemy”: Rank 1 → Rank 2]

When I created my fourth potion, a system window suddenly appeared —
a notification saying my special skill [Alchemy] had reached Rank 2.

Just what I needed.

I immediately drank the freshly made potion, then tried creating a Rank 2 Health Potion.

It didn’t look any different from a Rank 1 potion.

“Whatever, I’ll figure it out later,” I thought.

I opened the flask and swallowed it in one go.

Only then did I understand the difference.

This was definitely not a Rank 1 potion.

It was like all the pain, heaviness, weakness, and brain fog were washed away by a single gulp.

I felt… so good, as if the previous suffering had been nothing but a bad dream.

I checked my HP.

100%. Fully restored.

So that’s what a Rank 2 Health Potion does…

I need to see exactly how effective it is.

There should be information in the status window about the new potions I can create.

[Alchemy Skill — Rank 2
Available Potions:]

[Health Potion (Rank 2)
Requirements: 5,000 MP
Effect: Restores 10,000 HP]

[Mana Potion (Rank 2)
Requirements: 10,000 MP
Effect: Restores 5,000 MP]

[Experience Potion (Rank 2)
Requirements: 5,000,000 MP
Effect: Grants +10,000 EXP]

Ah, now it makes sense why I felt so good.

Rank 2 Health Potions restore ten times more HP than Rank 1.

As for the Mana Potion…

Still useless — just as useless as before.

And the Experience Potion…

Not even worth thinking about. I can’t create it anyway. Not yet, at least.

While I was reading this information, my HP dropped again — by 17 points.

Damn… now that I’m no longer dying this very second, something else awakened inside me.

Anger. No… rage.

Why did things turn out this way?

It’s my own fault.

My fault for letting that man live.

I should’ve finished him.

But no… my stupid softness. Or no — it wasn’t softness. It was cowardice.

Yes, that’s what it was. Cowardice.

I spared him not because I pitied him.

But because I was afraid to kill a person.

And this is where it led me.

To hell with all my morals from Earth. To hell with the rules.

If they tried to kill me — I’ll kill them too.

What do I do now?

Just wait until they leave? No. My bag is still there — with food, with water.

Here in the Training Room, there’s nothing.

If I stay here, I’ll simply die of thirst.

Even if I stay for days, only ten or twenty minutes will pass outside.

Useless.

I can feel the rage rising inside me like molten lava in a newly awakened volcano.

I looked at my arm. The wound was gone — fully healed.

But I remembered that moment all too well, when Soren slashed me.

Why didn’t they kill me right away?

If they poisoned me, then leaving me alive wasn’t part of the plan.

So why didn’t Soren cut off my head?

Or stab me through the heart?

Did they want to torture me first?

Kill me slowly?

“Damn…” I hissed through my teeth. “Damn!”

No.

I’ll kill them myself.

Why do I feel this so strongly?

As if the rage is bursting out on its own — like a beast that had been sleeping inside me all this time.

I won’t let them live.

I’ll kill them.

Kill all four of them.

Not a single one will leave this dungeon alive.

[Condition Met]

[Skill Acquired: Berserk (Rank 1)]

--

POV: Brann

Brann had been waiting for this moment since last night. He had already imagined how he would cut this brat into pieces. How the brat would cry, beg for mercy. How he would torture him slowly… and finally crush his skull to shut him up forever.

But the brat disappeared right in front of him.

“Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT!!” Brann screamed, kicking the bag the kid had left behind.

“Calm down, brother. Even if he escaped, he’s still dead. The poison I gave him has almost a hundred percent chance of killing him,” said the younger brother.

“I wanted to kill that brat myself… crush his arrogant eyes… make him beg…” Brann growled.

“Calm down. Right now, it’s more important to understand how he escaped. It could’ve been a Teleport Crystal… or some kind of teleportation skill. If it was a skill, he’ll appear somewhere nearby. He’s most likely still in the dungeon,” the younger brother said.

“Then we need to find him quickly!” Brann roared.

“He won’t get far. In his condition, he can barely even stand. And all his supplies are with us,” the younger brother said.

“Damn everything! I want to kill that brat with my own hands!” Brann growled. But despite his rage, he wasn’t planning on searching alone.

They began checking the bag the kid left behind. Inside was mostly food — rations, dried meat, bread. But…

“Oh, now that’s a good haul,” Damon muttered.

At the very bottom of the bag, they found over thirty Health Potions and several gold coins.

“Tonight we’re having a feast,” Soren said.

“Yeah, we will. As soon as I find that brat and kill him,” Brann replied.

They gathered their things and headed back toward the dungeon’s entrance. The plan was simple: check near the entrance. If they didn’t find him — they would wait. Eventually, he would have to come out.

The dungeon’s monsters had already respawned, and the group proceeded in their usual formation: two swordsmen in front, the mage and the archer in the back.

As soon as they entered the corridor, a few goblins appeared ahead. Soren and Brann quickly dealt with them. But after a few more steps, a strange sound echoed.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing, idiot?!” Brann snapped.

The sound was just the bow and arrows hitting the ground — Roder had dropped his weapon. Annoyed, Brann spun around, ready to curse even louder…

…but the words died in his throat.

Roder’s eyes were frozen in terror. Fear. Confusion. And most of all — a blade sticking out of his stomach.

The sword rose slowly, following a slightly curved path — up toward the heart, then the collarbone. The blade sliced through flesh, bone, muscle.

As the blade rose, more and more blood poured from Roder’s torn body. It flowed over his clothes, down his legs, painting the stone floor a thick crimson.

Finally, the sword tore through his shoulder, and Roder’s body collapsed onto the ground — right in front of Brann — exposing a horrifying mess of bloody organs.

Brann immediately smelled the stench of blood mixed with torn entrails.

And as soon as Roder fell, it became clear who killed him.

Standing there with a blood-soaked sword was that brat — Alisar.

So that was his name.

Brann, who just moments ago wanted to find him and kill him with his own hands, now felt chills crawl down his entire body.

Something was wrong with this kid…

His eyes were red, his mouth and half his face smeared with blood — as if he had just eaten someone alive.

His clothes were soaked in blood, as was his blade, but Brann instantly understood:

the blood on his mouth and clothes was not Roder’s.

And with that blood-covered face…

he was smiling.

What happened to him?

What was that smile?

Did a demon possess him?

No…

Maybe he was a demon all along, hiding inside human skin?

Just pretending to be human this whole time.

“Oh, you’re already leaving?”
His voice sounded cold and completely emotionless,

despite the smile frozen on his face.

“You know… I came to thank you.
You changed the way I see this world.
And the way I’m going to live in it.”