I’m the Only One With a Different Genre

Chapter 57



Chapter: 57

A geyser of blood bursts forth, an old man rolling around on the floor, a dude looking on with his mouth slightly agape in shock, and Lian, all tied up, pondering whether to call Gargandoa while watching the blood fountain.

It was pure chaos.

“Ugh, ughh…”

Bansook was surprisingly spry for his age. Plus, he kept in tip-top shape by getting checked out by top-notch healers, priests, and mages whenever something felt off. So, all this horrendous pain? Yeah, he wasn’t used to it at all.

Tsk, tsk, should’ve been more careful.

Lian clicked his tongue in his head, gazing at Bansook with a pitying look. The whole reason Bansook was groaning and rolling around on the ground was due to Lian’s comedic filter.

You see, in the world of comedy, old folks are the type to throw out their backs just by overdoing it a smidge—especially with heavy labor.

Even a body that’s been pampered with money suffers under that comedic filter. Lian glanced back at Bansook before shifting his gaze toward the confused guy staring at the elder.

“Um, how long do I have to stay here?”

His voice was way too calm for a guy whose thigh looked like a blood fountain. The man had been turned into a docile pup by Bansook’s various tortures, but his instincts were still intact.

In front of this bizarre and incomprehensible spectacle, the guy was frozen, unable to utter a word.

*

Hmm… what to do?

I briefly pondered. The old man in front of me didn’t seem like he’d get up and untie me anytime soon. And the zoned-out dude didn’t look likely to help either.

Iris’s image waiting for me flitted across my mind.

Right, there’s an elderly person collapsed on the floor; I should probably lend a hand.

Deciding to use that as an excuse to free myself, I mentally called out to Gargandoa. My forearm began to glow a dark red as blood splattered out. My wrists were tied, but hey, grabbing something with my hands was no problem.

Squelch.

The sound of moisture trickling filled the air, and suddenly, I found a knife in my hand—perfect for dinner!

[Huh? Partner, what happened to you -… wait, wait…!]

Gargandoa, questioning my tied-up predicament, suddenly huffed and floated into the air.

[Ugh, ugh?! What’s happening, partner! Did you seriously contract another Demon Sword while I was gone? That’s double contracting! It’s illegal! Fraud!]

He seemed utterly shocked, as if he’d been hit, finding another blade tucked where he usually rested.

Forget that, just cut me loose.

[How dare you! Do you have any idea how important this is? You and I are bound by contract! Your blood is all mine! And yet, without even talking to me, you’ve handed my blood to this… this stranger!]

I let out a heavy sigh at Gargandoa’s ridiculous tantrum.

Not like that! I didn’t ask to stick that sword in me either! Plus, that isn’t even a Demon Sword; it can’t absorb blood!

[What? What do you mean…]

Clearly too excited to pay attention, Gargandoa stammered and moved towards my thigh.

[Huh, hmm… Well, this is just a shabby sword you could find anywhere!]

His voice sounded a lot lighter, like his mood had taken a turn for the better.

[Still, it’s a real offense that it craved my partner’s blood!]

Just pull it out and cut these bindings!

[Hmph, if that’s the case, I’ll help!]

Gargandoa quickly sliced through the belts holding my wrists, ankles, and waist.

Snap.

I was free! Gargandoa then insisted I yank that sorry sword out of me. I wasn’t keen on keeping that thing stuck inside, so I grabbed the handle and pulled.

Wooosh!

Blood burst forth again. I could practically hear Gargandoa take a deep breath.

Swirl.

The blood flowing out started to rise, floating into the air and getting sucked into Gargandoa. The clean crimson stream looked unexpectedly pretty.

Gargandoa greedily soaked up the blood until he resembled the size of the pulled sword and pierced right into the wound.

“Ouch, what the heck are you doing?!”

That felt like a tiny prick from a sewing needle at my fingertip. I glanced at Gargandoa, who was lapping up the blood.

[Ahem, leaving the wound like that would be dangerous, wouldn’t it? I’m just acting as a bandage!]

There are other techniques! Like a clear barrier or something…

[Did such a thing even exist?]

If Gargandoa had eyes, they’d be rolling all over the place. I didn’t want to keep arguing, so I decided not to press further.

Standing up, I locked eyes with the elder finally managing to sit up.

“You… you!”

I reached out to Bansook, feeling partially responsible for him hurting his back. But Bansook clenched his teeth, trying to shout something.

“You…! Ughh…”

Shouting only seemed to worsen his back pain, and Bansook grimaced in agony. Touching an old man carelessly could lead to worse injuries.

In situations like this, it was better to seek help from someone else instead of getting personally involved. I withdrew my outstretched hand.

“Uh, maybe we should help the old man here; he looks like he’s in a lot of pain?”

“…?!”

The moment I addressed the man standing still, his face turned the same shade of confusion as before. Bansook must’ve disliked the sight because he commanded in a low voice.

“Come here and support me!”

Only after Bansook issued his order did the dude dash over to help the elder stand up. Despite the pain still lingering in his back, Bansook was brought to his feet, tears welling in his eyes.

He glared at Lian, now unbound, his teeth clenched.

“I will pay you back for today’s humiliation…”

With a villainous parting line, Bansook left the room with the man’s assistance. Left behind, Lian scratched his head and intended to follow.

Click.

“Uh-oh?”

But the door was locked. I took a moment to deliberate before addressing Gargandoa.

“Gargandoa, can you change your form for a sec?”

[I’m quite busy.]

“Keep this up, and you might miss dinner.”

[Kuk… It’s not about the food!]

Yet as he slinked out from my thigh, it seemed he wanted to avoid skipping a meal.

I relayed my request to Gargandoa, asking for a transformation into the necessary shape.

Swoosh.

Gargandoa morphed into a long piece of wire—a magical key good for opening any door.

*

While Lian was having a hard time in Bansook’s prison, Iris was fidgeting nervously.

Lian, when are you coming?

Muttering words she couldn’t voice aloud, she rose from the sofa and headed to the room she shared with Lian. With a loud clunk, she opened the wardrobe and scooped up the neatly folded clothes, making her way to the bed.

Like a little bird settling into a nest, Iris hugged Lian’s clothes close and rubbed her face against them. She longed to see him, to rush out and find him right away.

But she couldn’t.

He told me to wait. To keep the home safe.

So she couldn’t. No matter how much she wanted to see him, she needed to hold on. Clinging to Lian was her lifeline in this cruel situation. She firmly believed everything he said was right, and she had to follow it.

That’s why, even as much as she longed to see him, she felt utterly powerless.

Lian, Lian…

Iris shut her eyes and visualized Lian in her mind. He felt almost tangible yet seemed like he could dissolve into dust and vanish at any moment.

For reasons she didn’t understand, this thought only made Iris more anxious.

As Lian’s image surfaced in her mind, other memories began to trickle in—like the faint smell of blood whenever he returned from matches unscathed, the small scars that would appear when she stepped away from him, and his nonchalant attitude even when he hurt himself.

Iris vividly recalled Lian’s hands, which would heal so quickly that no trace of injury remained.

How recklessly must he have treated himself, knowing he could recover so fast? Just how many injuries and blood…

Her thoughts, tangling into one another, abruptly snapped.

Lian said to wait. To take care of the house.

Iris wiped out the thoughts that threatened to pull her into the abyss, regularly summoning Lian’s tender voice in her mind.

…If she didn’t, she felt like she might crumble at any moment.

Click.

“…!”

At that moment, she heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. Iris’s eyes widened as she sprang up from the bed and dashed towards the entrance.

“Iris, I’m back.”

The gentle voice she’d been yearning to hear pierced her ears, mixing with the odor of blood that stupefied her senses. The mild smile on her face gradually hardened.

“Sorry, I took longer than I thought.”

Lian stood there, covered in blood, smiling like it was nothing.



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