The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

The day my mother was killed right before my eyes still haunted me in my dreams.

Seven years had passed since the incident, yet I couldn't forget.

The memory was etched deeply into the core of my soul, an unshakable scar.

When I woke up that fateful morning, I learned the truth: it had been a Spectre that possessed my mother. It had been hiding in the village and slowly killing others.

Spectres were ghostly apparitions emerging from abyss voids and gates that had the power to possess people, take control over their bodies, and then use them to slaughter their loved ones while the victim's soul was left in torment.

That day, I felt pain—immense pain—but the agony that my mother might have endured as her own body turned against her, tore down her husband and went toward her beloved son wasn't something that could be described.

It was agonizing torment. She must have wished to end it all by killing herself before she could harm those she loved. Yet, she wasn't able to.

Fortunately, hunters were already tracking the Spectre and had managed to trace it and intervene before it could kill me.

But was I happy to be saved?

No, I regretted it... I should have died. Living each day in torment is a fate worse than death. That's why I focused my anger on them.

SPECTERS! WRAITHS! ABYSMAL CREATURES!

Beings who thrived on the agony of others.

I swore that I would get stronger...

I swore that I would eradicate them... each piece of shit that had been tainting the world needed to be thoroughly gotten rid of.

The world needed to be cleansed of their corruption.

That was my ambition, my only goal.

But, where did it all go wrong...?

I had the ambition but lacked the sufficient strength to achieve it.

In the end, I was just a failure who just dreamt big without having the means to achieve it.

_____

"Plea... Please..."

A quivering voice echoed from afar, breaking my thoughts.

"Please forgive me."

"Please let me go."

"I really don't have any money left... So Please..."

"Shut up, you son of a bitch."

The three boys dressed in some Academy uniforms circled a frail boy, kicking him relentlessly while cursing at him.

Around them, a group of students knelt in a line, their bodies bruised after being subjugated to petty bullying. Yet, it didn't come close to what the guy getting pummeled on the floor was going through.

The reason?

Because the person didn't have any money left to give.

The three people taking charge were the seniors who had assembled weak-ranked cadets and bullied them into giving money.

"You filthy fucking commoner, how dare you refuse to lick my shoes clean? Since you don't have money, you will need to do something to make up for it."

"Hey, idiot," chimed one of his lackeys. "Don't you know it's because of your good luck that you were given a chance to lick Sir Hesnon's shoes? We are giving you this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

The boot licker standing beside Henson raised his burly legs and slammed it into the boy's guts, and a strangled cry escaped his lip—a gut-wrenching pain while his whole body was already marred with scratches and bruises.

"Ahhhh!"

The screams continued until they couldn't. The boy simply didn't have enough strength left in his body to let out another scream.

His whole body was just a rag of bones with no hint of fat or muscles underneath his skin and it seemed to have merged with his very bone. He looked more like a walking corpse than a human.

"Wait, did he pass out?" Henson frowned.

"Get him up, I didn't have my fill yet!''

"Tsk..." he clicked his tongue, annoyed.

"Seriously, commoners these days don't have guts like those of the past who retaliated at the slightest grievance and it was so much more enjoyable to crush their minds and turn them into slaves. This filth can't even take a few kicks, how frustrating."

With a cold sneer, Henson glanced at his sidekicks with a meaningful gaze.

"Boss, don't worry about him," one replied hastily. "It's this guy who is useless. Can't even take some measly beating. He doesn't know how lucky he is for him to be beaten by you."

"Yeah, his stamina is too poor. No girl is gonna like him. Boss, we are not at fault for all this."

"Do I need to look for a new target? What trash gets done in just a few days of beating?" Henson spoke as he flicked his soft, shiny blonde hair.

"Hey, wake him up."

"Yes Boss."

The two sidekicks responded monotonously. One of them reached out for a bottle of water, preparing to throw it at the unconscious boy, but Henson slapped him hard across the back, stopping him.

"You little shit! Do you really want to waste water on this piece of trash? A commoner was woken up by a noble sprinkling water on him. If words spread out, our reputation will be in ruins! We would be too ashamed to even show our faces in public!" Henson's voice thundered, barely containing his rage as he tried to contain his urge to kick his idiot servant.

"Then, Boss, how do you want us to wake him up?"

"Just piss on him," Henson replied nonchalantly.

"Boss!"

"Boss!

Both of them exclaimed, embarrassment evident in their voices.

"What are you embarrassed about? You already have a good size, don't you? Let those idiots watch and envy you." Henson sneered.

"Go on. Show them what it means to be a dragon among men." Henson's smirk grew wider.

"But, Boss..."

Henson's smile faltered, replaced by a cold, unyielding glare.

"Do you want to do it or do you want to be subjugated to the same treatment?"

His cold words scared them, sending shivers down their spines. They didn't dare defy him any longer.

"If anyone dares to play the hero, I will crush their balls and gouge their eyes out!" Henson shouted, casting a menacing glare at the group of people on the other side. The spectators stepped back in fear at his blatant threat.

Henson seemed like a guy who was a bully and a sinister bastard to his very core and liked to take joy in others' suffering.

Though he flaunted his power, his strength was much weaker compared to any average second-year student and could be said as a bottom dweller, but his ego was too big to accept the truth.

To satisfy his so-called ego, he preyed on weak first-year students without any influential background, tormenting them until his twisted desires were satisfied.

Once bored with his current toy, he would go around looking for a new one.

Despite his lack of personal power, his family held a great deal of authority. Those who dared to report his bullying faced severe consequences. A bullied student who snitched on him was punished, and although he stepped back after a week, it was found that the student's house was burnt and his parent's business was ruined and they were forced to beg on the road.

"Such a vicious bastard," someone muttered under their breath.

"Stop watching and wake him up!" Henson barked.

"Yes..." Reluctantly, the two boys nodded with slight hesitation and unzipped their pants, letting the hot water gush out and splash onto the unconscious boy.

The boy blinked and he suddenly woke and yelled as he felt hot water dripping on him but then started trembling as he saw the group of people standing before him, giving him a menacing look.

They laughed maliciously, reveling in his terror.

Waking up from his stupor, the boy raised his trembling hands and clasped them together in supplication, tears streamed down his face as he begged for mercy, "Lord... please, don't beat me. I will do everything you say. Please, just leave me alone. I am just a commoner who doesn't have anything of value. Please..."

Crying frantically, he lunged forward to grab Henson's legs. Startled, Henson kicked him instinctively with surprising force.

BANG!

Henson had forgotten to hold back and hadn't controlled his strength, thus the boy was sent flying over the rooftop railing that stood at the height of the ground floor.

"Holyshit!"

"Boss!"

The two lackeys cried out in panic as they watched the boy plummet down the roof. Whether he had survived or not was unknown.

Henson's eyes widened with horror and his face turned pale knowing that if the boy died, things might get worse.

"Let's get out of here!" he hissed, panic rising in his voice.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Falling from the height of the 1st story, the boy screamed out loudly. He curled into a ball and wrapped his arms around his head to protect it.

BANG!

With a loud thud, his fragile body slammed onto the ground. Though he might have managed to protect his head, in doing so, his arms had snapped out at odd angles.

His mouth opened wide in a silent scream, but no sound emerged from his lips. Soon, his eyes flustered weakly for a few moments before closing.

Rain began to pour, washing away the blood staining the ground.

Thunder rumbled in the sky, lightning crackling in protest.

Soon,the storm raged and fierce billows of clouds clattered below which the boy who had been choking on his own blood a moment ago suddenly opened his eyes snapped open all of a sudden.