Extra's Descent-Chapter 352: Rain of Reflections [5]

Drip. Drip…!

The rain intensified further, dampening all the sound as Brandon stared down at Raven—who took a knee.

For why Raven started attacking him, he couldn't begin to tell.

He had asked him several times, but was met with no response.

But the Raven's eyes told him enough of what he wanted to say.

'I hate you.'

Brandon merely tilted his head, staring at Raven indifferently.

"You can never beat me. Do you have any idea why?"

"...."

But silence befell the encounter. Raven had no intention of speaking up as he forced his body up, grabbing onto his shoulder.

The fight had lasted a measly three minutes. That was how long it took Bradnon to subdue him while barely using magic.

Brandon's face darkened, his words seamlessly flowing out of his mouth.

"Because I'll never let you. Not you, not him. Not anyone."

"...."

"Of course, you can't respond."

Why?

"Because you're merely an illusion."

A clone made out of the fractured mirrors. His figure, reflected by the raindrops to complete the look.

That was the only explanation.

"Despite everything, you have no real reason to attack me, Raven."

That was his basis.

Enough had to be said.

Slash—!

In a blink of an eye, Brandon's figure blurred and the sound of glass breaking rang out.

Then, he turned around. Blue words appeared in his peripheral vision.

[Objectives Cleared!]

[Wait for your partner to ascend to the next floor.]

"Heh."

Brandon scoffed. Of course, Raven was still here.

And most probably, he was also undergoing the same trial.

But at that moment,

Crack—!

The mirrors shattered.

***

Drip. Drip…!

Raven stood battered and bruised, the rain washing his blood off.

Of course, he had no chance against Brandon.

He had yet to even scratch him.

Despite how hard he had trained for the past few weeks, he could never bridge the gap against Brandon.

——[Status]——

∟ STR: A+ —[2%]

∟ MP: A- —[22%]

∟ DEF: A —[13%]

∟ AGI: A+ —[55%]

∟ INT: B+ —[14%]

∟ CHA: S —[66%]

[AVG: A]

————————

He felt like he was about to break through soon. But after fighting Brandon yet again, it felt like reality washed over him.

He was delusional to think he even had a chance.

Technique didn't matter against someone with real talent.

'Why can't I ever beat him?'

Their win–loss ratio was 3:0.

And by the looks of it, it seemed like the gap was about to get wider.

Raven stood there, drenched, his blood mixing with the rain.

"Haha."

He laughed.

A hollow, broken sound.

"Why can't I beat him? Why always him?"

Raven muttered, his eyes starting to glaze.

He stared at the sky, rain streaming down his face, masking the tears.

"A wannabe duelist... beating me. A system user?"

He spat, the words dripping with disgust.

The metallic taste lingered as he bit down harder on his lip.

"Is this what I am?"

Raven whispered, his voice shaking.

"Just a shadow chasing him forever? Always beneath him?"

Drip. Drip…!

He stumbled, his bangs covering his eyes, the rain pouring down completely drenching his figure.

The bitterness, the resentment. It boiled over. He couldn't contain it any longer.

As if the rain was an eye opener for him. A feeling he had long bottled up inside his heart, putting on a mask that pleased others.

Or others liked to call it, a people pleaser.

"Ah... the rain."

He stretched his arms wide, as if embracing the downpour.

"Feels so good…"

As if this rain was what he was looking for his whole life. So much so that he wanted to drown in its essence.

Raven lowered his head and stared at Brandon, who stood still without ever muttering any words like a robot.

"Damned reflection."

He was aware it wasn't the real Brandon.

The real Brandon would've finished him off easily.

After all….

"Because you hate me. You're disgusted by me, my existence. I'm not sure what I've ever done to you…."

Raven's head tilted. His lips curled into a twisted smile.

"....But you know, I could never hate you."

He shook his head, gripping on the dual daggers in his hands.

"How could I? Why would a fan ever hate his idol?"

He sneered, clenching his face as he stumbled back.

"Show me more, Brandon. Show me why life is worth living. Why someone like me, with no aspirations, deserve to live after leeching off of others."

His tears streamed down along with the rain's downpour.

"Why someone like me, who had given up so easily…. Someone who had to force himself to smile everyday just because he was blessed by a curse?"

The damned system who had given him false hope.

Hope that he could find meaning in his life.

If he never had it, he wouldn't find himself in this position.

The Special Force—Reina, wouldn't have found anything interesting about him.

They never would've taken him in.

He could've just…. died the day he tried to jump off that building.

"....Why this life would be worth living, even after my mother died!?"

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He spat out. That was the truth. His mother didn't abandon him.

She was dead.

She had long been dead.

"Do you hear me, Brandon?!"

He shouted at the unresponsive figure. His voice cracked, filled with raw desperation.

"Why won't you answer?!"

Swoosh—!

He lunged at the clone, slashing wildly, even recklessly with his daggers. Brandon dodged and blocked with mechanical precision, no emotion, no reaction.

"Of course,"

Raven muttered as his face twisted in a smile.

"Because you're just a fake. A reflection."

He took a shaky breath.

"But isn't that fitting? Even in this exam, even in my own head, you never see me as worth responding to."

Raven's voice dropped to a whisper as his hands trembled.

He paused, the rain cascading down, his expression twisted in both hatred and longing.

"But I still want to prove myself, even if it means tearing myself apart."

Swoosh—!

He lunged again, his daggers aimed at the unresponsive Brandon.

Tears mixed with rain as he fought. His strikes became increasingly desperate.

"I need to know! What makes you so much better?!"

Brandon's entire existence. His connections, his family, his status, his strength.

Too flawless, too blinding. To the point where he was aware he had often felt slightly envious in the past.

Slash—!

Slash after slash, Brandon merely defended, no retaliation, no emotion.

Raven screamed in frustration, slamming his daggers into the ground, his breathing ragged.

"Why did you come back!?"

He paused.

Despite the madness of the rain corroding his mind, he had uttered words he had never meant.

"Ukh…!"

Brandon's sword cleaved forward, sending Raven hurling back.

He fell to his knees, his vision blurred.

His shoulders shook, his tears hidden by the rain.

"I want to hate you... but I can't."

He gripped the daggers in his hands tightly, desperately never wanting to let go of his only weapon. His partner.

"Because…. despite all this. Despite everything I said…."

He smiled. His thoughts were all over the place. Emotions heightened, then dampened, then skyrocketed.

As if he wasn't in the right state of mind.

"....I still acknowledge you as a friend."

He smiled, a bittersweet smile.

It was then.

Crack—!

The scenery shattered like glass. The sky's previous bleak—grayscale tone brightened, and the rain abruptly stopped.

Swoosh—!

Brandon's figure shattered before him, and Raven's eyes widened.

"You're taking too long, idiot."

There stood Brandon, sword in hand, appearing before him.

The real one. Not a fake, not a reflection, a real, responsive Brandon, who had just killed the mirror's illusions.

"Ah."

The moment the rain stopped, Raven's mind cleared. The heavy emotions inside of him, the emotions he had bottled up and compartmentalized deep inside his heart subsided.

Replaced by nothing but relief.

Relief that…. he had finally vented out all of his frustrations.

It might've been a fake, but—

"I heard you loud and clear."

Brandon's voice cut off his thoughts.

"I'm not good at consoling people. But neither are you, I know that like the back of my hand."

"...."

Raven could only listen, speechless. Where was Brandon going with this?

But Brandon's next words….

He had never heard it from anyone before. Not once had anyone ever mentioned it, afraid of striking a chord.

But for some reason, when it came from Brandon, it felt like he was talking to….

….Himself.

As if another version of him was telling him the exact words.

As if Brandon too was in the same position as him.

"Your mother would be proud of you."

….The tears wouldn't stop pouring down.

[Floor 2 Cleared.]