Chương 59: Chapter : 59

Instantly, the ambient photons were released from the magical hold. The light snapped back into existence. The bright, flickering glow of the magical torches illuminated the room once again. The moonlight shined through the glass. Vane squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden, blinding return of the light. He pressed his bloody hands against his ruined chest, groaning in terrible pain. When he finally forced his eyes open, he looked around the penthouse wildly. He was completely alone.

The man in the black cloak with the purple eye mask was gone. The heavy double doors were still open, but the room was empty. There was no trace of the intruder except for the massive, bleeding wound on Vane's chest and the terrifying memory burned into his mind. Vane dragged himself across the floor, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He was no longer an arrogant gang boss. He was a broken, terrified man who had just survived an encounter with an actual god.

Outside the tower, The Sovereign was already miles away, speeding through the night sky back toward the crumbling estate of the 13th Unit. The overtime shift was officially over, and Ken was incredibly ready to finally get some sleep.

Ken Eliot slipped through the small, open window of his dusty bedroom on the second floor of the crumbling estate. He landed completely silently on the wooden floorboards. He did not make a single sound.

"Anime logic, release," Ken whispered into the dark room. Instantly, the high-collared, dramatic black cloak with the gold embroidery vanished into thin air. The terrifying black mask with the glowing purple eye melted away like it was never there. In the blink of an eye, the legendary, fear-inducing monster known as "The Sovereign" was completely gone. Standing in the middle of the bedroom was just Ken. He was back in his messy, cheap, dark blue servant uniform.

His shirt was untucked, his tie was completely loose, and his black hair was sticking up in all the wrong directions. Ken let out a long, heavy sigh and let his shoulders drop into his usual, comfortable slouch. He took a step toward his bed, fully intending to face-plant into the pillow and sleep for the next twelve hours. But as he moved his right arm, a sudden, sharp stinging pain flared up near his wrist.

"Ouch," Ken mumbled, pulling his arm up to look at it in the dim moonlight shining through the window. There was a shallow, bloody cut on his forearm. It was the exact spot where Vane's Curse magic—the Shadow Severance technique—had sliced his shadow on the concrete floor back at the Doom Tower. Fresh blood was slowly dripping down his skin, threatening to stain the cuff of his cheap uniform shirt. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Ken stared at the cut, feeling incredibly annoyed with himself. He could have easily avoided this. As the strongest mage on the planet, Ken had a highly advanced, automatic magical barrier surrounding his body at all times. Normally, if someone tried to attack him, the barrier would just block it. Even if an attack somehow managed to bypass the barrier, his body was set up to automatically heal any injury in less than a microsecond.

But earlier tonight, right before he stepped into Vane's penthouse, Ken had intentionally turned both of those automatic services completely off. Why? Because of his "chunibyuu" mindset. Back in his old life, Ken used to watch a lot of action anime. In all the best shows, the main character always took a little bit of damage to make the fight look cool and dramatic. Getting a small scratch on the arm, bleeding just a tiny bit, and looking completely unfazed was the ultimate "cool guy" move.

Ken had turned off his auto-heal simply because he wanted to feel the real excitement of a battle. He wanted to feel the thrill of a classic dramatic showdown.

"Wow, that was a really stupid idea," Ken complained out loud to his empty room, rubbing his forehead with his good hand.

"In the comic books, the heroes always look so cool when they get cut. But in real life, paper cuts just sting really badly. This is highly uncomfortable. And now I have blood on my favorite cheap shirt. My mom is going to yell at me if I bring this home to the laundry." Deciding that the "cool guy" experience was totally overrated, Ken simply blinked his eyes. In just a mere millisecond, a microscopic pulse of invisible healing magic washed over his arm. The bloody cut closed up instantly.

The skin stitched itself perfectly back together, leaving absolutely no scar, no redness, and no pain behind. It was as if the dark magic sword had never touched him at all.

"Boop. All better," Ken said happily, completely treating the deadly Curse magic wound like it was absolutely nothing. He kicked off his scuffed shoes, letting them clatter against the floor, and threw himself onto his bed. The mattress was a little bit lumpy, and the blanket was thin, but Ken didn't care. He was a professional slacker, and any bed was a good bed. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the dark, water-stained ceiling.

The adrenaline from the night hunt was slowly fading away, leaving his mind perfectly clear. As he lay there waiting for sleep to take over, he started to think about the final strike he had delivered to Vane. When he had plunged the penthouse into pure, absolute darkness, he had summoned his black sword and slashed Vane across the chest. Ken had specifically aimed for the right side of Vane's chest. He did this on purpose because the human heart is located on the left side. He didn't want to kill the gang boss.

He just wanted to leave him heavily injured so that Princess Iris and the girls would have an easier time fighting him tomorrow morning. But as Ken replayed the fight in his head, a small frown appeared on his face.

"Wait a second," Ken thought, his lazy eyes narrowing slightly in the dark.

"I might have swung a little bit too hard." He mentally reviewed the angle of his sword slash. The cut was incredibly deep. The blade had sliced cleanly through Vane's heavy coat, through his skin, and deep into his muscle. In fact, the blade had gone so deep that it had definitely grazed the vital organs resting just beside the heart. Ken let out a long, dramatic groan and rolled over, burying his face in his thin pillow. He realized he had definitely overdone it. Vane was an older man.

With a massive, bleeding chest wound like that, his physical body was going to be in absolute shock. By the time the sun came up tomorrow, Vane was going to be drastically weakened. He would barely be able to stand, let alone fight a group of highly trained elite female warriors.

"I accidentally put the final boss on easy mode," Ken complained to his pillow, his voice muffled. This was actually a major problem for Ken's plan to stay invisible.