Healing System-Chapter 330: Rooms

Michael didn't waste any time.

He grabbed Nyra's hand before boosting forward like a missile.

The hallway blurred around them as he closed the distance, each step cracking the ground underneath him.

The black-masked freak tried veering off into one of the doors, but Michael was already on it. He yanked the bastard by the back of his cloak and slammed him into the wall hard enough to rattle the entire hallway.

"Many apologies..." Michael muttered, slamming his knee into the being's balls for good measure.

The masked being twitched, falling to the ground in pain.

Michael crouched down next to it and gave it a little slap on the mask, not enough to break anything, but enough to get the being's attention back onto him.

"Alright, pal. You're gonna answer some questions for me, or I'm gonna get real creative with my methods. Nod if you get the idea," Michael said.

The thing twitched again. Then, slowly, it gave a shaky nod.

"Good boy," Michael grinned.

Nyra hovered behind him, looking amused.

"You sure it can even talk?" she asked, rubbing her arm nervously.

Michael shrugged. "Don't really care. As long as it communicates."

He grabbed the thing by the chin and yanked its head up, staring into the empty black voids of its mask.

"First question. Where the hell are the others? Two guys. A fish and someone who looks like me. One's annoying. The other's a bit too serious for his own good."

The being shuddered—and then, surprisingly, it reached a trembling hand toward its own neck, tapping it three times.

Michael blinked. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Nyra stepped closer. "I think... it can't talk because something's blocking it."

Michael squinted at her. "You sure you're not just guessing?"

She shrugged. "Just try letting it go for a moment."

Michael sighed. "Whatever. Let's just... I dunno, see if it can write or something."

He conjured up a basic mana construct—a floating panel of light—and made a simple "WRITE" appear on it.

The black-masked being hesitated... then, shaky as hell, it started scribbling something with its finger.

Michael leaned in to read it.

"Rooms 900-950."

Michael's eye twitched. "You're telling me... there's nine hundred goddamn rooms?"

The being wrote again.

"More."

Michael slammed his head lightly against the wall. "Of course there are."

Nyra winced. "Well... at least we know where to look?"

Michael nodded, letting out a long breath. "Yeah. Thanks, buddy."

Then, without warning, he chopped the being's neck clean off.

Michael turned and started walking down the hall. "Come on. Let's find those idiots and get the hell outta here."

Nyra followed without hesitation this time.

As they walked, Michael kept an eye on the door numbers. They were in the 600s right now, and considering the weird layout, it could take a while.

Still, Michael felt better than he had in a long time.

After all, he wasn't alone anymore—and the people who did this?

They were about to learn what real hell looked like.

"Hey," Nyra called out, jogging up beside him. "When we find your friends... are you gonna be this reckless with them too?"

Michael smirked. "What do you mean too? I'm always reckless. It's part of my charm."

Nyra gave him a look, but a small laugh escaped her lips anyway.

Maybe... just maybe... things were looking up.

However, the further they went, the more powerful the presences from inside the rooms became.

In fact, by room 600, Michael felt threatened.

But he didn't open the doors, and simply kept walking.

He did find one thing strange though.

Why in the fuck did they assign me to one of the weakest rooms? Kael and Arthur aren't that much stronger than me.

He picked up the pace, and Nyra was still trailing close behind.

She was a bit of a strange one. She seemed powerful, somewhat. However, she was locked in one of the weakest rooms, just like him.

His gut feeling didn't flare up around her, which meant she was likely an ally. If not, then it would be a bit problematic.

However, whilst they were still a couple hundred rooms away, he decided to make some small talk.

"Nyra, what were you doing before coming here?"

"Farming," Nyra replied plainly. "I used to be a farmer. Though before that I was an assassin. It was a neat gig I guess, but I got bored of it."

"Bored of killing?" Michael guessed.

But she simply shook her head. "Bored of not being promoted. I was one of the strongest assassins of my world. And yet, even after a decade of assassinations, I wasn't even in the top 10. You know why? It's because I was a woman."

"Damn..." Michael sighed. "Sucks for you, I guess. But I don't think that was the problem. The top 10 might've already been predetermined based on popularity or something."

Nyra froze. "What do you mean?"

Michael tilted his head. "Well... oftentimes, the companies, or I guess, in your case, organizations... they try to maintain their image. I think the top 10 looked fearsome, but they also showed up frequently in public. Am I right so far?"

"You are..." Nyra muttered, shocked. "Do you think the only reason I didn't get into the top 10 was because I acted the part of a real assassin?"

"I'd guess so." Michael nodded. "But then again, you could've tried killing the ones on the leaderboard and taken their spot. No?"

"Nope," Nyra replied, sighing. "I did that once, but they recruited a more powerful assassin from a different branch. No one found out who killed him in the end, but yeah, it didn't work as intended."

"Hmm... your world is pretty corrupt, eh?" Michael chuckled, trying to liven up the conversation. "Well, after we get out, you can go get your revenge if you'd like."

"Revenge? I don't need it," Nyra said. "What I want is to start a family, but sadly, my reputation back on my world is close to zero. Any attempts will just make my enemies spring into action and kill my child."

"Yeah, that makes sense." Michael nodded. "Why not change worlds then?"

"I will." Nyra shrugged. "I had a lot of time to rethink my options during the years I've been locked in this white prison. And now, I'll just simply choose a random planet which doesn't have strong people, and make my home there. Not only will I be able to protect my child, I will also have someone I genuinely love."

"That's nice," Michael said with a warm smile. "I'm hoping the best for you, Nyra."

She nodded, a barely visible smile tugging at her lips.

Finally, they arrived in front of some sort of structure.

It was like a crossing, to the left and to the right.

To the left, the rooms had negative signs, and to the right, they were positive.

It was a bit weird seeing rooms -782, -781, and then +783, +784.

Then again, there was one more path, and it was in front of them, behind this intersection.

Thankfully, the rooms there were fine, and had no weird abnormalities like these ones.

Therefore, Michael proceeded to head down the hall.

Yet the moment he arrived before the 850th door, a sudden pressure enveloped him.

It wasn't coming from Nyra since she felt it as well, immediately putting up her guard.

No, it was coming from the 850th room.

It was a familiar presence, yet at the same time, it felt incredibly foreign.

Nonetheless, Michael cast Purify on his mind a couple dozen times, making sure he wasn't being mind-controlled or something.

And after figuring that out, Michael walked up to that door, and with a hesitant hand, pushed it open.

Immediately, a particular winged figure entered his sight.

Golden wings, golden hair, golden eyes. Everything golden.

She seemed frustrated as she hit the wall over and over again, seemingly not realizing Michael had opened the door behind her.

Irelia... Michael sighed.

He definitely wasn't expecting to see her here. For all he knew, she was the one responsible for locking him up in the first place.

But it seemed like that wasn't the case. Instead, the one responsible was strong enough to capture a Seraphim in a heartbeat.

Just who am I dealing with? Michael pondered, as he tapped his fingers on the doorframe, causing Irelia to flinch, then turn around.

He waved matter-of-factly, meeting her cold glare.

Yet instead of fighting him, she slowly approached, and walked past him, then outside of that room.

"God damn it..." Irelia muttered, punching the nearby wall, and sending cracks all throughout.

"They sealed my mana, and took my sword..."

"And who's they? If you don't mind answering?" Michael chimed in.

"I don't know... All I know is that the one responsible had a weird red mask. He was very strong, and I couldn't even put up a fight before I was knocked out and thrown into that weird room."

"Right..." Michael rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming.

Why...? Everywhere I go, there's always something going fucking wrong.