I Hate Systems

Chapter 53: Domino Plottopia

“Ahhh! My hands!” Regriel screamed in pain as his hands were cut off. Blood spurted out, splashing on the altar as he rolled on the snow, flailing around as he began to cry in pain.

Suddenly, his pain began to subside as a white glow activated on his hands, causing him to slowly come to a stop as he noticed his hands regenerating. His Darlac was consumed tremendously as his severed hands continued to regrow.

But, he noticed that he didn’t have enough Darlac to fully grow both the hands, thinking clearly now that his pain vanished, ‘System, heal my right hand first. Use the remaining Darlac on my left hand.’

Regriel saw his right hand being healed first. And when it was done, he barely had 10 Darlac remaining, focusing it on his left hand as he heaved a sigh in relief, stopping the bloodflow, ‘If I didn’t have a System, I would have had to live as a cripple from today onwards. Thankfully…’

Only now did he notice that the energy blade within the altar had vanished. As for the floor with the palm impressions, they seemed to have changed too. Now, there was a flat floor within the altar. And, situated on it was an Armament.

Regriel extended his hand, flinching once as he recalled the pain, afraid to insert his hand into it, lest it got severed once again. But, curiosity got the better of him as he wanted to see the Armament that had appeared in the altar.

But he was smarter this time, inserting his left hand into the altar. After all, it wasn’t fully healed. So, even if it got injured again, he wouldn’t be too much affected.

Regriel gently nudged the Armament, taking it out after some effort. The moment he brought it out of the altar, he grabbed hold of it using his right, noticing that it only had one State. After a moment of thought, he activated it, noticing an energy blade had formed.

But, this was in the shape of a key, a rather large one at that, spanning a length of 30 centimetres. Upon seeing it, Regriel was stumped for a moment before he began to laugh, “Right, I had assumed it was a normal-looking key. But, this is an Armament that condenses the energy blade in the form of a key. This changes everything, haha.”

He then frowned, noticing some obvious signs of tampering in the altar, recalling everything Kalluto had said, “So, since Grister died without saying anything, it means he didn’t have the intention of conveying the truth to Kalluto. But, Parlut was the one that had revealed the truth to them.”

“Maybe, after anticipating that someone might steal this key, he changed the Armament in the altar to automatically sever the hands of whoever tried to activate it. Before, the trap would activate only when someone that didn’t have the bloodline of the Great Megwest Empire tried to activate the altar.” Regriel contemplated, sighing, “Thankfully, I have a healing ability. Otherwise, I dare not…”

He suddenly paused, noticing a tiny chit of rolled paper attached to the Armament. He removed it, opening it to read the words written on it, “Don’t even think about it. Whoever you are, it’s impossible for you!”

“Hah, I’m not your average joe. I can handle a Level 5 Dungeon.” Regriel snorted in disdain, rolling up the paper as he pocketed it just in case, getting up as he ensured the Armament with the key was safely tucked in his dress. He then made his way out, struggling in the process to do so since his left hand was missing.

…

“Thank you, brave lady. May you be blessed with luck and fortune.” The beggar wheezed a bit before he leaned on a tree, waving his hand at General Artica as he fiddled around with his liquor bottle.

It was a rather large tree with a thick trunk, so he positioned himself comfortably, even going to the extent of using the tree roots as an armrest. He then looked at General Artica, “No matter what, don’t doubt yourself. Doubts leads to suspicion, and suspicion leads to rash actions. They eventually cause you endless grief. So…”

“Be confident.” The beggar suddenly hiccupped, burping a little as he seemed to be fully drunk, laughing without reason. He was senile.

“Just…what are you…” Just when General Artica was about to inquire further, she noticed Regriel return, hopping around, as usual, clearly happy judging based on his body language.

He then noticed the beggar seated before the tree, laughing like an idiot, ignoring him as he arrived before General Artica, “I got the item.”

Right as he was about to habitually hug General Artica, his foot hit a liquor bottle, looking at it in reflex to see that it was an empty bottle. But, something seemed to be inside the bottle, a piece of paper, “What…is this…?”

“What happened to your hand?” Right as Regriel was about to pick up the bottle, General Artica shouted in alarm as she lifted his left hand, asking in a hurry, “What happened? How did you lose it?”

“Relax, it will heal back soon enough.” Regriel smiled casually, picking up the bottle as he showed it to her, “Anyway, there seems to be something inside it. Let’s take a look.”

He didn’t even seem to care about the beggar, breaking the bottle on a rock nearby, taking out the paper from within as he read the contents aloud, “When you reach Mohart Dungeon, think of me, and call out my name. The Secret Society would help you.”

“Domino Plottopia.”

Upon reading the name of the person who had written the sentence, Regriel swerved his head to his left, gazing at the beggar that had been leaning on the tree trunk. Only, the beggar seemed to have vanished now.

Regriel hurriedly looked around, unable to find the beggar, asking General Artica, “Did you see where he went?”

“No, he was here just a moment ago,” General Artica too was confused as she looked around, unable to find any traces of the beggar around her, not even any footstep trails. It was as if the beggar had vanished into thin air.

“The Secret Society, huh. How mysterious…” Regriel muttered, clenching the piece of paper tightly, “Domino Plottopia, I’ll remember your name.”

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