Pawn-Class Trash: I Level Up Every Time I Die-Chapter 16: Scene Interference

[Congratulations. You have successfully been claimed.]

Elian’s stomach twisted. Claimed? What the— 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"You—you can’t do this!" Elian gasped, kicking his legs, thrashing like a trapped animal. "Drop me! Drop me now!"

Aven’s hand tightened. The grip seared against Elian’s collar, bruising the skin. "I had to," Aven said, calm, almost bored.

"You’re under a rogue pawn protocol. You... glitch. I need to see why."

Claiming a piece means the owner has full access to the claimed profile and can view, control and toy with the claimed person.

Which means, Aven can view his system’s profile.

Elian spat, sputtering, chest heaving. "What the fuck?! Claiming me like im some chew toy?! The fuck— Let go of me! I just want to find my sister and not deal with your shenangians!"

Aven ignored him. He swiped his finger across the purple screen hovering in the air.

[Your Owner ’Aven, The Queen of the Black Guild’ can view your stats.]

[You cannot block]

Elian gulped slowly. If Aven can view his system... does that mean he can see all his skills? Especially his hidden resurrection skill? And his sponsor?

Also, another thing that bothered him was how his own system now flickered purple. Is this an effect on his system after he was claimed?

Aven read aloud, much to Elian’s dismay. "Sucker Punch, Level 1. Weak-point Analysis, Level 1... Pawn... star?! What the heck? Ha! Hahahaha! Is this a joke?"

Elian froze, he flushed bright red. However, that’s a win? He didn’t see anything else? "What? That’s—" His voice broke. "That’s it? That’s all you see?"

Aven’s lips quirked. "Although, your stats are abnormaly high for a pawn, but your skills are something else. I don’t know if your System has a default, or its just mocking you," he squinted his eyes, "Hmm, you have an Infamy stat too? You..."

Elian’s blood boiled. His fists slammed uselessly against the air, making Aven struggle with keeping his body still.

"You’re—just some—STUPID hunter—ugh—leave me alone! I wasn’t following the twins. Urgh you sicko! Shit! Burying me in a grave dug for birds wasn’t enough?! What else do you want?!"

[Oh, do keep struggling, player. It’s adorable. And pathetic. I almost feel bad... almost.]

Elian’s eyes darted. His stomach churned. His arms flailed. "You’re a—s—system—I—ugh! Shut up!"

Aven tilted his head in confusion. Why was Elian talking to his system like it can reply back. And why wasn’t he scared and instead cussing at him. Maybe if i instill a bit of fear in him, maybe Elian might stop acting like a drunk constipated chihuahua.

Elian, mid-struggle, his system’s screen appeared once again. its colour now influenced with purple hue. He widened his eyes, shocked.

[Your Owner used the skill... Fear Infuser Lv5 on you.]

Fear infuser?

[Your Will stat is high enough.]

[Will: 13]

Well, thank God.

[You have activated your title: Mad Pawn.]

[The skill ’Fear Infuser’ does not work on you.]

[Welp. That is nice, i think.]

Aven eyes flickered a bit. He was now more curious about this man. My skill didn’t work, he thought, tightnening his grip on Elian’s collar. His eyes searched his, but Elian only responded with a snarl.

"Just let GO." Elian repeated, flapping his hands around, he even attempted to bite Aven.

And then, in a blur. Movement too fast for the eye. A shadow reappeared behind Aven. Before Elian could react, his eyes captured Sun’s movement, disappearing and regenerating above Aven.

Sun’s boot slammed into the back of Aven’s skull. The force cracked bones audibly, a sickening crunch of vertebrae under heel. Purple light splintered into sparks. Aven’s grip faltered as he forcefully let go of Elian.

Sun smirked, his eyes darting towards Elian, "you see... my sponsor has a sadistic kink. He likes me more when i get hit. I had to please him."

Elian gazed up at him before his legs gave out as he gasped. His chest burned. His throat ached from screaming. He coughed, trying his best to stand up. But if he were to give an opinion about Sun’s extra, it would be... Why the hell would you accept that constellation’s binding contract? And what fucked up constellation would love his incarnation getting his ass beat up?!

His system chimed in again, [Well, you ain’t the one to talk either. Your sponsor hasn’t said a word.]

I am not comparing my situation to that.

But Sun merely smiled. His leg whipped again, snapping against Aven’s back in a brutal, fluid arc. Armor splintering, bone straining.

Aven stumbled, face twisted, mana flaring as he clutched at his own head, reeling, staggering.

Elian blinked, frozen. His own body screamed from the adrenaline, heart pounding in violent staccato.

Maybe i should help Aven? However, he shrugged his shoulders, Aven can take care of himself.

He tried tiptoeing out of the scene, stumbling out incase he get dragged in again.

[You never learn. Do you?]

Huh?

Then the world tilted. He stumbled backward, tripping over as he fell off the building.

Elian’s eyes widened, shivers ran down his spine, sending a jolt to his brain. A costly mistake. Ah, shit!

The cold wind caressed his cheeks, engulfing his whole body whilst the pressure pulled him further down.

A shard of metal slammed into his stomach—he didn’t even register the moment of impact until the pain ripped through him like fire and glass.

[You have died a painful death. Congratulations.]

Elian’s vision blurred. He fell to his knees. His hand went to the wound, hot, wet, sticky. He gasped. His fingers pressed against torn, jagged flesh. Heat, blood, disbelief. His chest heaved.

[I am so sorry, player. I didn’t mean to do that.]

[You have died a meaningless death.]

[Penalty: 12 hours in the Forgotten Tomb.]

The world dissolved. His body sagged. Limbs flopped like broken dolls. Skin cold. Eyes wide, glazed in tears. His consciousness tore free and twisted into something else.

The Forgotten Tomb.

It wasn’t a room, nor a place. It was a void. Black. Stretchless and endless. Above him, nothing. Below, nothing. Around, nothing. The silence pressed into him like iron. The cold seeped into his marrow.

He staggered forward, trembling. Every step cracked the ground, but the ground wasn’t real. The pain wasn’t real—but the hole in his stomach screamed. His intestines burned beneath his fingers. He stared down at the ragged, crimson mess, trembling.

[Welcome to the punishment ground.]

Punishment ground?

A voice, low, deep, dripping with ancient weight, reverberated through the Tomb.

["Welcome, the rejected."]

Elian’s head jerked up. Shadows slithered in the darkness. A large figure emerged, towering. The figure wore a worn out black cloak, standing in a crooked posture.

Gloomy purple aura surrounded its presence as the figure held a long scythe in hand, black and jagged.

Elian could have called him a grim reaper. Only if he could die, actually. But this was his punishment for dying without permmision or what?

He tried asking the system. Hey, suckerbot. What’s this? Where am i? You didn’t warn me about any punishment.

But his system didn’t respond. He was met with the eerie gnawing silence. Instantly, his stomach dipped in terror. Where am i?!

The grim figure appeared right behind him, it raised its scythe with one hand above his head and slashed Elian’s back.

Elian screamed, staggering back, gritting his teeth and biting in the urge to cry.

He turned back, facing the gloomy figure.

["Keep your eyes on me. Die or survive. This is your punishment."]

"Who are you?!" He barked at the dark.

The figure replied in its deep void voice.

["The Tormentor."]