Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System
Chapter 190: Manipulated Complex

"I can see your disgust bubbling up whenever I talk about the act of hunting. You can hold a poker face all you want, but I can see within you that it stirs you up," Crow said while following behind with a smile.

"You're completely right. Every time you open your mouth and those vile words spill out, it makes me want to stick my blade in your neck. There's never…there's never been a person I've sincerely wanted to kill besides you," Finn admitted, looking at the pale-haired man. "Everything about you is

wrong

to me–well, not everything. That small part that might be capable of change, of growth…That's the only thing keeping me from becoming no better than you."

The honest spiel from his lips finally brought a change to Crow's expression, who looked genuinely surprised by the genuine admission.

"If you wanted to kill me, I wouldn't really mind. After all, a part of me will become a part of you. For me, that's a curiosity maybe worth dying for," Crow said. "Why not take the plunge? I'll even let you do it–right here."

The man of a dysfunctional mind pointed right to his own neck, tilting his head as if making room for the silver blade to fit right in. What sounded like a joke didn't seem as such when he was able to sense there were no falsehoods in Crow's words.

"Taking a life isn't so simple. At least, for normal people," Finn rejected the wicked offer, trying to turn his attention back to the accursed apartments.

"But you're not normal. Don't forget, I have a deep understanding of you, deeper than you have of me–that brain of yours is fractured like a dropped teacup," Crow claimed, tapping his finger against the side of the assassin's head.

Finn immediately slapped his hand away, serving him a sharp glare, "Enough. Focus on the issue at hand."

"Sure thing," Crow obliged half-heartedly with a smile.

As he looked around, the entire complex seemed "off"—from the walls that appeared black now, to the subtle vibrations in the air.

It was unmistakably different from when he entered, he knew that for sure. He took some steps across from the floor, looking up through the spiraling stairwell.

"—"

The floors seemed to never end; he couldn't even see the ceiling of the building, only more and more railings ascending. It sounded like raindrops pitter-pattered against the outside–an impossible weather within the city.

"Higher or lower?" Crow asked, gazing up through the stairwell.

"It's a coin flip either way, isn't it? There's now way to know for certain. That being said…I have a feeling our suspect would place himself high up, looking down at us," Finn theorized, leading the way to the steps.

Crow didn't resist his line of thinking, following right behind him, "Hmm, that's a good assumption."

"You already knew which way to go, didn't you?" Finn asked, glancing back at the pale-haired, young man.

"A hunch," Crow answered.

Finn chose to ignore whatever games the hunter was playing at, focusing on the problem at hand as he followed the steps to the next floor. Upon walking onto the next floor, he found his boot sinking into a wet step.

Looking down, he found his foot in shallow water, surrounded by heavy rainfall. As he brought his gaze back up, the sight of the apartments was muddled, instead seeing everything covered by rain and mist.

'What is this…?'

He questioned. Continue reading at мѵʟ

It was a familiar sensation; that lightheadedness that came with inexplicable sights. What he surmised is that it was his mind playing with him again. After all, it made little sense to replace himself in a flooded rainfall in the middle of an enclosed building.

A hand to his shoulder snapped him back as he blinked, replaceing himself looking at the bloodsoaked walls of the apartment again. He looked over, replaceing Crow's hand moving away as the snowy-haired man looked at him with a smile.

"Spacing out? I couldn't sense anything you were thinking just then," Crow asked.

Finn didn't answer, instead standing there for a moment as the fog in his mind cleared, turning his focus back to the floor itself. There were two apartments on every floor, though for some reason, that specific floor–number eight–only had one door.

"Interesting," Crow remarked. "Whatever it is, this person's system seems to let them freely alter this warped place however they please."

"I'd call it more annoying than anything," Finn said while approaching the single door.

As he grabbed the handle, something was off about it–what should've been solid brass instead squished as he gripped it. It was a texture like that of jell-o, molding itself to his hand.

'What the…?'

Finn thought, feeling the perplexing warmth radiating from the handle.

Just as he squeezed the odd handle, he jumped back as his instincts flared up. The door he intended to open morphed, pushing outward as its dark-red form opened into a gaping maw full of jagged teeth.

"Ha-ha! Look at that! The door was a trap," Crow observed from a safe distance.

There was no time for Finn to have any kind of the same reaction as the door-mouth lunged out from its hinges like a train of flesh, ramming right into him. In order to respond quickly, Finn raised his hand, causing the ground of the high-up floor to rumble.

["

Stone Warping

"]

Just as the gaping, salivating mouth got close, a wall of material shot up, slamming the grotesque, blistered worm of flesh right in its jaw. It stopped the grotesque force in its tracks, though it quickly began to ram towards him again.

There were less than five meters of space to work with on each floor, making it a rather claustrophobic experience in dealing with what was essentially a tube of hostile flesh.

"Need a hand?" Crow asked from the sidelines.

Finn rejected the offer without saying anything, running towards the wall absent of a door as he used it as a secondary foothold. He ran up the wall before flipping around, causing the door-mimicking creature to ram straight into the building.

Before it could move around again, he moved his hand to manipulate the stone wall he had risen–

["

Stone Warping

"]

It used his mind as a canvas, forming the solid material into a shackle that wrapped around the tubular body of the creature. A hiss released from its putrid mouth as it was held still, allowing for him to land his boots atop its body.

"--Fffuu."

A sharp exhale pushed through his lips as he calmly, with focus, drove his dagger down into what he could only guess was its head. The blade sank right into the tough, but susceptible flesh before its constant hissing came to an abrupt end.

["

Mortal Mana

"]

[Mana Recovered: +200]

Ending the worm-like fiend's life reduced it to ashes that dispersed beneath him, letting his feet fall back to the floor.

"You handled that nicely," Crow complimented.

"These creatures are getting annoying. They're not difficult to handle, but…they're placed like traps," Finn observed, looking at where the door should've been for the apartment building.

There was no longer any sort of door blocking the way, only a trail of repulsive slime from the one that had pretended to be one. The stench of the secretion left from the fiend smelled of bananas and spoiled fish, almost enough to make his eyes water if he wasn't used to horrible smells already.

He approached the threshold, taking a peek into the apartment to see it had a far different interior from the other he had seen. The walls inside were turned to a charred black, the same for the floors. Even without stepping in, the smell of burnt wood infiltrated his nose with a smoky air.

"It's been burned?" Finn questioned.

"I doubt our person of interest did anything like that. It seems to me more like we're viewing a glimpse into their mind," Crow theorized.

As he entered the charred apartment, he listened to what the one who shared the mind of a killer had to say, beginning to feel part of that himself. The layout of the fire-touched room was entirely different as well, with a kitchen directly to the right upon walking in and two bedrooms on the left.

'This entire apartment…It likely does exist in the city, but right now, it's like the inside has been altered by this person–it's built like a fever dream,'

Finn thought.

Passing down the hallway, he glanced into the opened door to replace a room untouched by fire. It stood out like a sore thumb as the walls were painted baby blue with clouds on the ceiling and toys scattered on the floor. The juvenile room looked as though it should exist a thousand miles away from the charred apartment, yet was a threshold away.

"A kid's room?" Finn muttered to himself as he walked in, looking around at the vibrant walls.

"A kid's nightmare, it seems," Crow remarked, standing at the doorway of the room.