"I like challenging tasks," Alan said, narrowing his eyes as he waited for Alessa to assign the quest.
"Gather the two fragments of Flauros, combine them into one, then destroy the artifact with the Blade of Redemption," Alessa stated bluntly.
Alan didn't react. He just stared at her, his expression unreadable.
The two of them locked gazes for a long, awkward moment. Alessa began to feel a little uneasy. "Is it… too difficult?" she asked tentatively.
"Tell me the mission details," Alan demanded. "The key information, so I know how to find the quest items. I've been waiting all this time, and you expect me to guess riddles?"
Alessa was taken aback. It seemed she hadn't been clear enough. Silent Hill was enormous; searching aimlessly was unrealistic.
"There are two fragments," she explained. "One is inside the body of the former priest. I can give you his location. The other is in Christabella's hands. She has been hiding in the church, supported by hundreds of her followers. You'll have to figure out how to get that one on your own."
"This task is indeed very challenging," Alan said, rubbing his chin. "It will require… additional payment."
"The fragments are made of gold," Alessa added.
"What are we waiting for?" Alan declared, his tone shifting instantly. "It is our sacred duty to eliminate this evil cult!"
Under Alessa's guidance, they passed through several dilapidated buildings and successfully found a secret, isolated house. A heavy iron padlock secured the gate, and there was no other entrance.
Alessa stood back. "There are other demonic forces protecting this place. I can't open the door. I can only rely on you."
"Piece of cake."
Alan cut through the iron chain with a single stroke of his sword. An ordinary blade wouldn't have been able to slice through the thick lock, but one enhanced with his Shadow Blade skill was a different matter entirely. The raw power of the attack shocked Alessa, making her feel a flicker of threat. She could see the supernatural energy shimmering around the blade.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
In the small, closed room, an old man with disheveled hair and a grimy face was imprisoned by several heavy iron chains. When he noticed someone enter, the old man raised his head. His eyes, as cloudy as old lychees, emitted a strange, faint fluorescence.
"Whoa, glowing eyes?" Alan exclaimed. "The mark of a final boss! Are you the secret superboss of this dungeon?"
"Young man, please come closer. I have cataracts, I can't see clearly," the old man responded in a weak, pleading tone.
Alan patted his chest in relief. Good, he's just a half-blind old man. I was worried for a second. For Alessa to ask me to fight a secret boss by myself… that would just be feeding me to the wolves.
"Alessa?" the old man said, his voice suddenly excited. "Did Alessa, the child of the devil, send you here?"
"Yes, she gave me the quest," Alan answered sincerely.
"She is the spawn of evil, full of lies! You must be careful," the old man said in a low, conspiratorial voice. "Alessa must have asked you to take the fragment from my body and then collect the other to destroy it. Don't do it. If you do, her power will no longer be suppressed. She will return to her full strength, and everyone will die."
If Alan hadn't seen the second Silent Hill movie, he might have believed him. He knew this old man was the monster from the film, the one who combined the two fragments and became a twisted abomination. Being trapped here was simply punishment for failing in his own power struggle.
"I've already collected one piece," Alan said, a sly grin on his face. "What should I do now? How about you keep it safe for me?" He had no such fragment, of course. He was deliberately testing the old man.
"Cunning Christabella may have created a fake to conceal the real one," the old man said, unable to hide his excitement. "Show it to me so I can see if it's genuine." He stretched out a trembling hand, his greed palpable. The thought of obtaining the complete artifact, of finally having the power to break free from his prison, consumed him.
Pfft.
A sword pierced the old man's throat.
"You actually believed me when I lied to you," Alan said, his tone almost flirtatious. "You're so naive for someone so old."
The old man choked, his hands flying to his throat as blood frothed at his lips. He couldn't utter a single word. The confusion in his eyes turned to pure, unadulterated rage.
Alan slashed his sword diagonally, splitting the man's chest open from neck to heart. A glittering golden disc was hidden within.
"Such a large piece of gold! I've hit the jackpot." Alan tore a rag from the corpse and carefully wrapped the fragment.
As soon as the old man died, Alessa appeared in the house.
"I heard your conversation," she said. "Do you believe him or me?"
"I'm sorry," Alan said, putting one hand on the wall and the other on his hip, adopting the tone of a domineering CEO from a cheesy romance drama. "Darling, I just made a mistake that all men make. You'll forgive me, won't you?"
Asking him that was a mistake, Alessa realized. Trying to get a straight answer from a madman was a fool's errand.
On the way to the church, they passed by a public restroom. Alan stopped and waved mysteriously. "Come here."
"What is it?" Alessa frowned, unable to guess what he was planning.
"You'll find out when you come in."
Alan walked into the bathroom, turned on a faucet, and let water fill the washbasin.
"What on earth are you doing?" Suddenly, a terrible feeling washed over Alessa.
The next second, Alan grabbed her head and pushed it into the basin. He began scrubbing her dirty hair with his hands, a bright smile on his face. "I've been wanting to wash your hair for a long time. The gothic punk style just doesn't suit you."
"Enough!" Alessa struggled, roaring as she tried to lift her head.
But her petite body was no match for Alan's terrifying strength. Black, filthy water overflowed from the basin as clean water continued to gush from the faucet. He didn't stop his inhumane hair-washing treatment until the water finally ran clear.
When he was done, Alessa stood there, her eyes blank, water dripping from her soaked hair onto the floor. The cold water seemed to have washed away all her dignity as the child of a demon.
It was a great shame. A profound humiliation.
I'll endure it, she thought, suppressing her rage. Revenge was her priority.
Inside the church, the Otherworld had descended. All the believers were gathered together, seeking refuge from the encroaching darkness. A golden disc was placed in the center of the sanctuary, and everyone faced it, praying fervently. The fragment of Flauros, containing a sliver of demonic power, filled the entire church with a shining light, providing a fragile shield for the terrified congregation.
Christabella, leading the prayer, looked at the golden disc, her expression grim. After five years, its power was fading. A sacrificial ritual was needed to keep it intact. When making a deal with a devil, one never expects to get something for nothing. Free, after all, is always the most expensive.
Fortunately, a single sacrifice was enough to buy them five more years of survival. And now, having captured two outsiders, they could buy themselves a decade of peace.
"Bruce, I think things are about to get bad," Oliver whispered. "That old woman is looking at us in a very strange way."
"Oliver," Bruce replied grimly, "I think we're about to face the one situation we wanted to avoid most."
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