Re:Zero - Jobless Reincarnation: Succubus Sword God? I don't recognize it!

Chapter 511 Bita's Attack: Who's Behind the Door?

As the bluish-green slime gushed from Pacus's body, shooting out in a radial pattern towards Allen's head, Allen looked up.

Before he could make a move, his body suddenly stiffened, frozen in place like a sculpture.

The viscous liquid in the air suddenly expanded, bathed in the midday heat, and shimmered with colorful light on the surface of Allen's gradually dimming eyeballs.

There was only a slight pause.

The next moment!
The slime rushed towards Allen's head, suddenly tightening and enveloping his entire body from the neck up. Then, like playful fish, the slime created countless transparent tracks and rapidly burrowed into Allen's body through his ear canals.

Wow!

The lump of slime, the size of a car hood, suddenly shrank and disappeared into the air without a trace.

The azure sphere that had just expanded seemed to be just an illusion.

The edge of Allen and Parkus's clasped hands.

The slime seeped rapidly from the wound between Pacus's fingers as he fled, and the moment Allen looked up, it raised its head and bit into his skin.

—The Divine Child's ability "Dream Building" takes effect.

Pakus felt his consciousness blurred for a moment before he regained it, completely unaware of the bizarre scene that had just unfolded.

He looked at Allen, who was standing there with his head tilted back in a daze, and hesitated before asking, "Allen Boreas Greirat? What's wrong with you?"

Allen should not.

He remained motionless, gazing up at the sky.

As his voice floated in the air, the blazing midday sun fell from the sky, entering his pupils and completely dyeing the whites and blacks of his eyes into ripples of blue water.

then
His deep blue pupils contracted, then dilated again.
Like a beating heart.

——Plop.

With a blink, Allen's pupils returned to normal, and he lowered his head.

The light and shadow in the narrow alley changed in the blink of an eye.

The blood-stained walls turned into solemn, greyish-white walls; the blinding light transformed into the hazy sunset reflected on enamel glass; and the decapitated corpses all around became rows of empty chairs.

Allen stood inside a building that resembled a church.

The crimson glow of the sunset seeped in through the cracks in the window beside me, slanting across the floor and dispelling the shadows, casting a long, bright streak across the wooden floor.

Before him, Pakus's figure suddenly vanished and disappeared into the distance, transforming into a dark counter with a gavel on it.

Behind them stood a judge dressed entirely in black, wearing a hat with the insignia of the Street Legion.

Allen had seen this scene before.

—The courthouse in the capital city specifically used to interrogate criminals.

He looked down at his hands.

Both wrists are placed in front of the abdomen, with chains as thick as a thumb wrapped around them.

boom! !

The sound of a gavel falling came from the counter.

"Are you guilty?"

At the same time, I heard sobbing beside me.

As if realizing something, Allen turned to look to his side and saw, surrounded by several street soldiers, a weathered-looking Philip was holding a figure. The woman had a full head of red hair that fell onto Philip's shoulder, and her face was buried in her husband's arms.

Allen stared at the scene for a moment, then, for some reason, a sudden surge of curiosity welled up inside him, and he instinctively craned his neck to see what Hill's expression was like.

Then, you can't see anything at all, you can only see your mother's constantly shrugging shoulders.

Upon seeing this, the judge behind the counter suddenly laughed. He became furious and began pounding his gavel on the table.

"Unwilling to reveal who you are? Fine, no problem, I'm too lazy to investigate. So, pronounce the verdict!"
Imposter! Reincarnated! You are not Allen Boreas Greirat at all! You are just a thief who stole his body! Boreas has no blood relation to you whatsoever. You have been deceiving Hilda Boreas Greirat's feelings, pretending to be her child.

This is a complete and utter scam! Those hypocritical and cunning people have abandoned all shame for the sake of becoming the heir to Boreas!?!

He glared angrily at Allen, spat, then looked at Hilda and Philip beside him, his expression softening to reveal a look of pity.

"Lord Philip, Lady Hilda, the evidence is irrefutable. Do you still acknowledge this false child? What will you do with this treacherous thief? Will he be hanged immediately, or imprisoned for life?"

silence.

Only sobbing could be heard.

Allen didn't even turn his head, just silently watched Hilda's back without saying a word.

Philip glanced at him with a complicated expression, his face twitching, revealing a deep sorrow.

He hesitated for a long time before looking at the judge.

"Instead of executing him by hanging, he was sentenced to life imprisonment."

"Very well! The Street Corps Court hereby pronounces its verdict! This nameless man, this thief of reputation, this deceiver of feelings, hereby is sentenced as follows."

Amidst the rhythmic cadence of his voice, Allen suddenly turned his head.

He looked down at the iron chain in his hand, the inquisitive look from before completely gone, replaced by a calm demeanor. He stretched out his fingers and gently stroked the chain, making a crisp clattering sound.

Then, he grabbed the middle of the chain connecting his wrist, ready to apply force.

Just now.

Someone interrupted the judge.

"Let him go."

Allen's hand paused, his pupils contracted, and he abruptly turned to look at Hilda.

The latter remained nestled in Philip's arms, still sobbing, still heartbroken.

He still didn't turn to look at Allen.

But the trembling voice persistently pounded on Allen's eardrums.

"Let him go, let him go. Please, please let him go."
"Don't condemn him, don't condemn him, let him go. Let him go."

A moment of silence fell over the surroundings.

Then suddenly a commotion broke out. Someone behind the counter was yelling, as if cursing Allen. Philip spoke up urgently, as if defending Hilda.

Then, Allen heard nothing.

He simply stared blankly at Hilda's retreating figure, his mouth slightly agape.

"Perhaps Allen isn't as bad as the judge makes him out to be. I understand my wife's thoughts, you..."

“No! The law is the law! Why should we forgive such scum? Your son, Allen Boreas Greirat, is a non-existent phantom. He stole Allen Boreas Greirat's body; he is a complete thief!”

I still think so.

The judge was furious. He rushed out from behind the counter, hammer in hand, his face red and neck bulging. He was extremely agitated and waved his arm wildly.

"You've been deceived by him! You clearly know he isn't! Otherwise, how do you explain why Lady Hilda wouldn't even glance at him? Wake up! He's a complete and utter thief!"

"have you had enough?"

The judge paused, then turned to look at Allen in astonishment.

Allen shifted his gaze from Hilda's increasingly trembling shoulders, turned his head to look at the judge, and raised his eyebrows.

"Have you had enough fun? Did you find it entertaining?"

"you!"

A blur appeared before the judge in an instant, and shattered pieces of iron chain flew through the air between Allen and the judge. He grabbed the judge by the neck and lifted him up.

boom! !

The judge's head exploded amidst the raging flames in his eyes!

Allen dragged the still-struggling corpse, even with its head severed, along the way, at a steady pace, until he reached the side door.

But he stopped and turned his head to look behind him.

Hilda still did not turn her head.

In this illusion, Hilda pleaded for her 'son' with whom she had no blood relation, but she was never able to see him again. Allen paused for a moment.

He turned his head, reached out and pressed the doorknob, turning it.

Just then, Hilda's hoarse voice came from behind: "Allen."

Allen didn't stop; he pushed open the door and walked out.

A dazed feeling, similar to being inside a teleportation magic circle, swept through my mind.

Then, visibility improved.

The corridor was dark, the walls were mottled, the building was modern but looked old, and there was the sound of dripping water that could be heard from time to time.

He went to Allen Orphanage.

Allen turned to look at his side and saw that what was struggling in his hand was no longer a headless corpse in human form, but a clump of slime that kept breaking apart and coming back together.

It is struggling.

"Impossible! Impossible! How can you be sober?! How can you be sober?! Let me go!!"

Allen's gaze bypassed Hades Bitta, who was restrained by the Flowing Secret Technique, and looked at his side.

Little Allen stood with his hands behind his back, but his face was no longer the arrogant and smug smile that usually accompanied him, as if he had everything under control. He simply looked at Allen quietly.

Allen said, "This is not what we agreed on."

Little Allen shook his head: "Are you angry? You know perfectly well what I'm doing, and this has been on your mind for a while now, hasn't it? Last time you wrote to Hilda, you were clearly struggling, but you still frankly told her that you were reincarnated."

What? Did you realize you couldn't hide it anymore because of the change in your appearance? So you confessed beforehand? Or do you feel guilty?

Even if you fully accept Allen Boreas Greirat and become Allen Boreas Greirat, the sudden change in appearance still makes you realize that you shouldn't be like this.

"You are not Hilda's son, so how are you going to handle yourself? How are you going to deal with her intense emotions? How are you going to face her, face your mother whom you've accepted, and face the consequences of Hilda realizing you're not her son?"

Allen remained silent, then strode forward.

Little Allen followed behind him, glancing sideways at his back. After a moment of silence, his tone softened slightly.

"It seems you know what you're doing."

As Allen walked away, he said, "I won't split off another personality this time."

Little Allen nodded, took a deep look at Allen's back, then touched the wall, looked at the plaster on his hand, kicked the restless Bita, and changed the subject.

"As expected, after the addition of the power of the Divine Child of Pita, the dream has become more solid, and the feedback is becoming more and more realistic. I even have the illusion that you are you and I am me."

Allen raised his eyebrows and kicked Bita, who was still struggling.

"So obvious? Just now, the instant I entered the dream, I activated the flesh-receiving technique, but I didn't have time to check if it was successful."

Little Allen followed behind Allen, practicing juggling the ball with Bitta's body: "Success. Our guess was right. Your so-called precognitive dream ability is not the prophecy we guessed before, but Bitta's Dream-Building Divine Child ability superimposed with Senis's Extrasensory Divine Child ability."

Allen glanced at the crack in the door.

Little Allen was right. When he entered the Aishan Orphanage again, he clearly felt a subtle sense of being spied on from behind the doors on both sides of the corridor.

"Do you feel it?"

Little Allen, tossing the half-dead Bita along, asked, "Open a door and see?"

Allen glanced at Bita's expression and said, "No need. It probably won't open anyway. Let's stick to the original plan."

Little Allen shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.

They both stopped at the same time.

At the same time, turn your head.

At the same time, look to Allen's right.

The familiar yellow-painted door.

The familiar A4 paper.

Familiar.
Single-room observation dormitory

Name: Allen

Dissociative personality disorder patients

Dosage schedule (sertraline hydrochloride):

Date: August 27, 2011: √.
-
"Hurry up, Bita is dying. With his abilities enhanced, he should be able to see much better this time."

Allen hummed in agreement and placed his hand on the doorknob.

Click.

Along with the old, outdated, and inexpensive single-tongue lock body retracting.

Allen turned the doorknob without any trouble.

The two looked at each other.

Allen pushed his wrist, opening the yellow-painted door in front of him.

The door seemed to come with immense resistance. With Allen's full force, it opened slowly, as if it hadn't been opened for years and the bolts and hinges were completely rusted, thus drawing back the final curtain of Allen's Emperor-level flesh-and-blood divine power.

squeak
Through the crack in the door, no bigger than a palm, Allen saw the familiar table beside the door, with doodles he had painstakingly carved on it when he was a child.

It was a woman with an indistinct face, with very smooth, slightly wavy hair, gently holding a child's hand.

The child is smiling at his mother.

squeak
The door was slightly ajar, just big enough for a person to see. On the empty bed, there were many books, which the orphanage staff had brought to Alan to keep him entertained.

There was a rustling sound of pages being turned inside, as if someone was flipping through a book.

squeak
The door was ajar, and as Allen approached the room, the bunk bed frame where he had once slept came into view.

The upper bunk was empty and unoccupied, while the lower bunk had soft mattresses and neat sheets, and someone was sitting on it.

squeak
In Allen's constricted pupils, the upper body of a figure crashed into his field of vision.

White hair, black eyes, dressed in casual sportswear, leaning against the wall where the headboard meets the wall, holding a copy of "The Minds of Billy Milligan" in his hand. The window beside him is wide open, and a gentle breeze is blowing in from outside, rustling the pages of the book on his lap.

He was looking at Allen and smiling, his voice ethereal yet warm.

"They're here. Earlier than I expected, but it's still not enough."

Allen stared in astonishment at the 'himself' sitting on the bed, his eyes flickering, but he couldn't utter a word.

then
squeak
The door was fully opened.

Directly opposite Allen.

A strange object, composed of countless messy, chaotic, and disordered black lines, completely out of place in the dormitory, caught Allen's eye.

It has a shape.

It has no shape.

It made a sound.

It never made a sound.

Allen tried hard to see what the other person looked like, but all he could feel in his mind was chaos, disorder, darkness, and jumbled sensory sensations.

Blood seeped from Allen's pupils.

Finally, the blurry outline pierced Allen's senses.

—It opened its jet-black, swirling mouth.

He was trying to swallow Allen's legs, who was sitting on the mattress.

Allen instinctively took a step forward.

The next instant, the world spun around.

He woke up from his dream.

(End of this chapter)