Three months.
That was the prognosis the doctor gave me yesterday. "Mana Void Syndrome," he called it. A fancy way of saying my body was a black hole that was slowly eating itself from the inside out.
The assassin standing in front of me, however, was offering a much shorter timeline.
About three seconds.
"Renji Amagiri," she said, her voice muffled by the heavy rain pounding against the neon-lit alleyway. "The Syndicate sends its regards."
She held a jagged, mana-infused dagger to my throat. The tip glowed with a sickly green poison.
I coughed, and a spray of blood splattered onto the wet pavement between us. It wasn't from her knife. It was just my lungs failing, like they did every Tuesday.
(Oh god. This is it. I'm going to die in a dumpster behind a cat cafe. I didn't even clear my browser history.)
My knees buckled. The pain in my chest felt like someone was scraping my ribs with a rusty spoon. To any observer, I looked like a pathetic, dying man.
Which I was.
But I couldn't let her know that.
"The Syndicate?" I repeated, forcing a low, raspy chuckle. I wiped the blood from my lip with a trembling hand. "They sent... only you?"
(Please say there are more. No, wait, please say you're leaving. My legs are shaking so bad I think I'm doing a tap dance.)
The assassin narrowed her eyes beneath her hood. Rainwater dripped from the tip of her nose. She was beautiful in a lethal sort of way—sharp eyes, pale skin, and a bodysuit that left nothing to the imagination.
"One is enough for F-Rank trash like you," she spat. "You owe the boss ten million yen. Since you can't pay, I'm taking your head."
She stepped closer. The killing intent was suffocating.
I had zero mana. I had the physical strength of a wet noodle. If I tried to run, I'd make it maybe two steps before my heart exploded.
I had one option left.
Lie.
Lie like my soul depended on it. Because it literally did.
I straightened my back, fighting the urge to vomit blood again. I looked her dead in the eyes, channeling every ounce of arrogance I had learned from watching HunterTube celebrities.
"You think I'm trembling because I'm scared?" I whispered, letting my voice drop an octave.
(I am terrifyingly scared. I am so scared I might pee myself.)
The assassin paused. The tip of the dagger wavered slightly. "What?"
"Look at my hand," I commanded, holding up my right hand. It was vibrating violently.
To her, it probably looked like a nervous tic. I needed to recontextualize that reality immediately.
"My Yang energy," I lied, stepping into the knife rather than away from it. "It's overflowing. My body... it can barely contain the sheer potency of it."
(It's actually low blood sugar and terminal organ failure, but you don't need to know that.)
"Yang... energy?" She frowned, confusion flickering in her gaze. "The report said you were mana-dead."
"The report was written by fools who can't distinguish between a void and a seal," I scoffed.
I took another step. The dagger pressed against the skin of my neck, drawing a thin line of blood. I didn't flinch. I couldn't afford to.
"I have three months before this power consumes me completely," I said, my voice thick with fake exhaustion. "Do you know what happens when a Sovereign-class entity loses control, little assassin?"
I locked eyes with her. I poured all my desperation into a gaze that I hoped looked like 'contained madness.'
"The city turns to ash. And the first thing to burn..."
I reached out.
(Don't kill me. Don't kill me. Don't kill me.)
I placed my trembling hand gently against her cheek. Her skin was cold from the rain, but she flinched as if I were burning hot.
"...will be you."
She froze.
Why did she freeze?
Hunters relied on instinct. Her instinct was telling her that a dying man shouldn't be walking into a knife. Therefore, the man wasn't dying. Therefore, he was dangerous.
Logic was the enemy. Fear was my friend.
"Your skin," I murmured, running my thumb along her jawline. "It's so cold. You crave heat, don't you?"
(What the hell am I saying? I sound like a bad romance novel villain.)
But then, I saw it.
A faint blush crept up her neck. Her pupils dilated.
She wasn't pulling away.
"I..." She stammered, the dagger lowering by an inch. "I was told... you were weak."
"A lie," I breathed, moving my face closer to hers until our noses almost touched. "I am simply... too much for this world to handle. My touch is poison to the weak. But for you? It might be pleasure."
I pressed my thumb slightly harder against her skin. My hand was shaking so badly that it created a vibrating effect against her jaw.
"Can you feel it?" I asked. "The power? It wants to jump from me to you. It wants to... violate your mana circuits."
(Please buy it. Please, I'm begging you, just buy the lie.)
The assassin's breath hitched. She dropped her gaze to my lips. The vibrating touch, combined with my proximity and the adrenaline of the situation, was short-circuiting her brain.
"I... I feel it," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's... hot."
She felt heat?
I wasn't doing anything. It was pure placebo. She expected power, so her brain was interpreting my feverish, dying body heat as magical radiation.
Suddenly, a transparent blue window flickered into existence in front of my eyes.
It wasn't a hallucination. It was text.
[System Initializing...] [Subject: Renji Amagiri] [Status: Critical]
My heart skipped a beat. A System? I was F-Rank. I didn't have a System.
[Trait Detected: Pathological Deceiver.] [Stimulus Detected: Target believes the lie.] [Converting Deception into Reality...]
What?
A jolt of electricity—real, actual electricity—sparked from my fingertips.
"Ah!" The assassin gasped, dropping her dagger. It clattered onto the wet concrete.
She stumbled back, clutching her cheek. Her face was bright red, her breathing ragged. She looked at me not with killing intent, but with a mix of terror and... hunger?
"What... what did you do to me?" she panted, her legs rubbing together involuntarily. "My mana... it's boiling."
I stood there, stunned. I felt a surge of energy rush into my chest, easing the constant ache of the Void.
(I... I scammed the universe?)
I quickly composed my face into a mask of bored indifference. I slicked my wet hair back with one hand, looking down at her as she leaned against the dumpster for support.
"Consider that a warning," I said coolly. "Next time you point a weapon at me, I won't be so gentle."
(Holy crap, I'm alive. I need to go home and lock the door and never leave.)
The blue screen hovered in my vision, glowing with a golden light that cut through the gloom of the alley.
[Congratulations.] [You have successfully unlocked the 'Path of the Incubus Emperor'.] [Current Lifespan: 3 Months, 1 Hour.]