Psychological
Chapter - 42
As soon as the herbal liquid slid down his throat and into his stomach, his heart began pounding harder than ever before, forcing his eyelids wide open.
The bottle slipped from his grasp. The sound of it shattering rang clearly in his ears the moment he felt something stab deep into his bones.
His breathing stabilized, yet an unfamiliar sensation spread throughout his body, seeping into his cells before flowing along with his blood.
“Ah…!”
His scream tore through the silence of the night. A crushing pressure slammed down from the top of his head, forcing his body to collapse onto the yard’s ground.
What’s happening to my body?
He swallowed hard.
A strange, restrained, and piercing sound of breath suddenly echoed. Moments later, the pressure inside his head weakened. Zavi pushed himself up into a seated position, glancing left and right as he searched for the source of the sound.
But when he looked behind him, he saw the reflection of two wolves—slightly transparent. There was no flesh, no blood, only a gray aura enveloping their entire forms.
‘Why are they staring at me?’
he wondered.
The wolves’ eyes were fixed directly on him.
He had yet to realize that these creatures were newly awakened subordinate Prisoner abilities—powers that allowed him to create animal entities through the channeling of spiritual energy.
These animals could be controlled within a radius of several kilometers, under one absolute condition: the owner must remain completely still while controlling them. If he moved, the energy channel would be severed, and the animals would vanish.
A tier-one ability had also unlocked.
Zavi was now capable of storing a substitute of his body within an object he could touch. If he touched an object—trees were not recommended—such as a watch, wooden box, pencil, glass, or any solid item, then spoke the words “Return to original,” part of his energy would be placed within that object as a physical anchor.
In emergency situations, such as being surrounded by enemies, he only needed to visualize the previously anchored location and say “Back”—or even just imagine it—to pull his body back to that point as if slipping through time itself, arriving instantly at the stored location.
After using this ability, Zavi’s body would reach the destination, but his consciousness would not. For several seconds, he would be unable to move. His muscles would stiffen, his eyes would remain open, yet he would not truly see.
This state was known as “Absorption.”
However, this ability had a strict limit: a maximum of two uses per day. Exceeding that limit would distort the user’s soul—or erase it entirely from this world. That said, this rule could be bypassed, as the consequences themselves could be countered by a sufficiently intelligent user through reversal spells.
As for his other abilities, all of them remained locked. Like a game system based on towers or levels, each ability could only be unlocked by completing specific missions or finding the correct key to open the next tier.
After confirming that the two wolves truly obeyed his commands, Zavi could no longer suppress the surge of emotions rising within him. But just as he attempted to push further, an odd sensation abruptly formed in his chest.
His knees buckled.
He vomited a considerable amount of blood.
The blood pooled on the ground—then slowly vanished on its own, unlike ordinary blood. In its place, a Prisoner ability symbol formed on the earth.
A square frame, twenty by twenty in size, appeared clearly. Inside it was an illustration of his own ability.
A black-and-white human figure inside a cell.
Two wolves at its sides.
Silver chains coiled around the symbol’s frame.
‘Was what he said true? About—’
His chest felt as though it were being crushed by a hydraulic press. His heart raced, then suddenly slowed, as if it had forgotten its own rhythm.
His eyes widened, then—
Clutching his shirt, nausea surged rapidly up his throat. “Ugh…” Instinctively, he covered his mouth with his hand, then pulled it away to see red blood mixed with black, resembling polluted sewage water.
What’s wrong with my body?
He swallowed.
The two wolf figures before him slowly lost their forms, their outlines blurring before his eyes.
A sudden wave of drowsiness washed over him, making his eyelids unbearably heavy.
Just before his consciousness completely faded, a mysterious woman appeared at his side. No one knew when she had arrived. She calmly approached his powerless body.
Who… is that…?
The thought crossed his mind in his final seconds of awareness, as his heartbeat seemed to recognize a rhythm it was meant to follow.
…
Sunlight stretched across the horizon. Its gentle glow illuminated the buildings below, including the house they had rented the night before.
Somehow, his body had moved on its own, as if someone had carried him—yet he had no idea who. That question kept circling in Zavi’s mind as he finally regained full consciousness, forced awake by loud noises from outside.
What he did not expect was that Moreira was still sleeping soundly in the bed beside him.
How is he still asleep? Wasn’t he only able to sleep in the morning or afternoon…?
Zavi frowned in confusion. After recalling Moreira’s behavior the previous night, he began to understand why.
He crawled down from the bed, only to realize something that made his body tense—the wooden prosthetic leg that normally fitted his left side was gone, devoured by the Chalog.
Huh!? I—was I just dreaming?
Zavi stared blankly, trying to deny the possibility that a mysterious woman had truly approached him before his consciousness faded.
He stood up and stomped his foot repeatedly to test its stability, then paced around the room several times, confusion tightening its grip on his mind.
Yeah… I know. What kind of thought was that just now?
He was certain the Aurora-disguised woman had come to see him again—but for what reason? The lack of clarity only made his head ache even more.
Zavi swallowed to suppress his rising panic. He took two steps forward just as the bedroom door opened.
He walked down the hallway for several seconds, then decided to head toward the far-right end of the house, near the staircase on the second floor. There was a room there—Esvalen’s room.
Knock… knock… knock…
He waited several seconds. No response.
The air inside the house suddenly rushed harder through the ventilation opening, making Zavi reflexively swallow again.
“Why is it so quiet?” he muttered, touching his chin.
Waiting several more seconds without an answer darkened his mood.
He turned around, intending to return to his room, but his steps halted after moving only a few paces away.
Wait… wait. Something’s wrong.
What is it? I can’t even perceive it—like my thoughts are being forcibly stopped.
There was a kind of rejection occurring within his bodily system—as if his body realized something foreign had entered him. It wanted to expel it, yet couldn’t. It wanted to ignore it, yet its presence made his body feel wrong.
That was why Zavi suddenly appeared dazed. Moreira, who had seemed asleep from Zavi’s perspective, had actually already woken up and even spoken to him—but Zavi had not responded at all.
When Zavi walked toward Esvalen’s room and knocked three times, Esvalen had actually stepped out on the second knock. Yet everything happening before Zavi’s eyes and inside his mind seemed as though it never existed.
Meanwhile, Esvalen and Moreira watched him from afar with puzzled expressions.
“He… has he gone insane?” Esvalen muttered in disbelief.
“…Maybe,” Moreira replied uncertainly.
So what am I supposed to do after this?
Sir has been strange ever since I found him asleep in front of that empty house. Can I still trust him completely?
That question made Moreira’s heart grow increasingly restless. His thoughts were once again ensnared by something that had imprisoned his emotions for a long time.
Yesterday, after obtaining the ingredients for the potion, the two of them had walked calmly through Minehold’s streets, searching for a horse carriage that could take them to the outskirts of the city.
While waiting, Moreira overheard a conversation between two men who happened to pass beside him. They were talking about the sudden destruction of Hava District—suspected to be the result of terrorist activity, with wanted posters now spreading across multiple cities.
Hearing that, Moreira immediately reached two conclusions.
First, the destruction was most likely caused by the same terrorists who had previously targeted Tezny.
Second, Chapena District was potentially the next target, considering that his three friends were currently staying in an apartment on Twelfth Street.
“What do you want to do next?” Esvalen asked calmly, pulling Moreira out of his thoughts and forcing him to consider the question.
“I don’t understand,” Moreira replied with a sigh.
“I don’t understand,” he repeated, exhaling deeply. “Aren’t you an evil spirit, not even from this world? You should understand matters like this.”
The two stared at each other, the tension turning the hallway silent.
Then, calmly, Esvalen stepped forward, intending to leave the house and let the question linger like smoke suspended in the air.
That woman… I don’t know how her mind works. She’s human, yet she dares to take on someone else’s form without feeling even the slightest guilt…
After muttering to himself, he looked ahead and saw Zavi’s face. The confusion from earlier had faded, replaced by an expression of sadness—like a small child lost in the middle of a crowded street after being abandoned by his mother.
Moreira was startled and immediately walked toward him, searching for a way to fully return his consciousness to his body.
Ah… this is exactly what I went through. Even now.
He was sick of it. He had warned him not to do it—but he still did.
Moreira realized he had no right to control another person’s life. But was it really wrong to forbid it? He didn’t want anyone else to end up like him.
“Ah… this guy is seriously troublesome,” he muttered in disbelief. On the other hand, if it weren’t for Zavi, he would have died alongside the robed group—Albert and the others included, without exception.
