Super God: If I punch you, you will die

"Black" Assassin stared blankly at the Master's corpse. Although it should disappear naturally if left unattended, it was hard to say whether a new Master might appear.

"I should just finish her off." Archer thought to himself as he drew his bow and fired an arrow. Assassin remained crouched beside the corpse, motionless. He probably hadn't even realized that the other had fired an arrow.

That would be best, Archer thought. It would be best to just leave everything behind and depart from this world. Whether it's regret, hope, or despair, it doesn't matter once it's gone.

When the arrow pierced his heart, Assassin only convulsed for a moment, without even letting out a cry of pain.

"Red" Archer approached her with surprise. The arrow should have accurately destroyed "Black" Assassin's core, but she made no reaction.

She felt no pain, nor did it disappear. It was an extremely unusual sight. Assassin simply gazed silently at the sky. Her blank expression clearly reflected that she was no longer capable of fighting.

Despite this, a chill ran down "Red" Archer's spine, and a strange fear arose within him.

The so-called Heroic Spirits should be like heroes who have overcome all fears. Atalanta, as one of the Heroic Spirits, certainly understands this very well.

She was not afraid of the forest in the dark of night, nor was she afraid of the giant boar released by the gods.

Even on battlefields where a moment's carelessness could mean death, she can navigate them with a smile. This should remain true in the Holy Grail War as well.

There was no room for fear in this situation. The enemy had already been defeated, or at least was on the verge of death. Although this was enemy territory, she was confident she could escape their pursuit on foot. Even if she were to die on the battlefield because everything was going in the worst possible way, she could accept it, though she would be unwilling.

That is the destiny of participating in war. As heroic spirits, everyone would have this level of awareness.

but.

"Red" Archer took a step back. No, the "thing" confronting him now was fundamentally different from that kind of terror.

Just staying in this place gives me the feeling that something will come to an end.

What's there to be afraid of? "Black" Assassin has no means of retaliating now.

With their Master dead and their Noble Phantasms unusable, what kind of threat do Servants still pose?

There was no threat. That's how it should have been.

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"Black" Assassin turned his neck towards "Red" Archer like a toy doll. Those empty eyes were as beautiful as blue crystals, Archer thought.

"Black" Assassin spoke.

"why?"

From Assassin's mouth, which had only uttered this one sentence, a stream of turbid black matter spewed out.

Although "Red" Archer hurriedly jumped back a step upon seeing this, for her, such a reaction speed was far too slow.

"This is."

Jack the Ripper, summoned to the mortal realm as an Assassin, is actually an aggregate of vengeful spirits. In other words, he is merely a temporary manifestation of a young girl, an aggregate of fetuses abandoned at Whitechapel.

Now, "Red" Archer's arrow has freed her from the shackles of "Jack the Ripper".

Like a thick fog, the vengeful spirits instantly surged towards the nearby survivor, "Archer," or perhaps they were involuntarily drawn into it.

In an instant, "Red" Archer witnessed this scene.

Q: What is hell?

A: The interrogation will continue indefinitely.

A: Repeated killings carried out individually.

A: Endless despair.

I see. Every single case perfectly fits the definition of hell.

However, there are indeed many different kinds of hell in this world.

Foggy London, Whitechapel. For certain people, it was undoubtedly hell. Just surviving was difficult enough, let alone living a life of dignity.

In a world where even a nine-year-old girl has to sell herself to survive, what dignity is left? The air is constantly thick with the stench of leather factories and meat processing plants, and rats and cockroaches swagger about in the streets. There are no strong people; everyone there is a pitifully weakling, a pathetic victim, and simultaneously a cruel perpetrator.

Yes. This is hell.

Of course it's hell, this really is hell. Children, there are so many children. Their eyes are like dead fish; they all understand that there is no love in this world. No, that's not true, love exists, it truly exists. Even so, they can't speak. They long to reach out a helping hand, they desperately want to reach out to you, but their bodies won't move.

The children all turned their attention to her at the same time.

I will save you! I will save you! I was once like you, fallen into hell. But I was saved! I hope you can experience that joy and happiness too.

Despite losing her speech, "Red" Archer desperately tried to express herself to them. At that moment, the children began to approach her.

They felt neither joy, sorrow, nor hatred. Their inorganic eyes were like those of a shark.

Faced with this eerie and chilling atmosphere, "Red" Archer instinctively wanted to back away, but one of the children grabbed her arm.

The children spoke at the same time:

"Come with us."

With a hissing sound, it penetrated the inside of her skin. Another person grabbed her foot and invaded her blood vessels in the same way. Then, one person invaded her nerves, one her bones, one her internal organs, one her muscles, and one her brain.

"Red" Archer let out a scream.

It wasn't out of fear, but because my heart was tormented by the children's despair.

Lin Yan and Ruler, who were tracking the "black" Assassin, were also drawn into "that" matter.

Just as the two were running down the road, a black, hazy-like object suddenly rushed towards them. They didn't even have time to run away before they were swept up in it and were enveloped by a sensation as if they were about to fall asleep.

Before he knew it, Lin Yan suddenly found himself standing in a strange place.

"here it is."

It was a particularly cold and gloomy city, shrouded in thick smog. A strong stench constantly emanated from the surroundings. It was the stench of meat, the stench of internal organs, and the stench of vomit.

This is not Toliss. Lin Yan made this judgment. Because the structure of the buildings is completely different, and there are pedestrians coming and going on the road. Although the smog contains a pungent smell, it is not enough to cause pain.

At this moment, he found that his senses were dulled and that passersby completely ignored his existence.

He started to walk forward, but he didn't feel the solid ground beneath his feet; it felt as precarious and unsteady as stepping on a thin nylon bag.

This is an illusion, and it's right at the heart of a nightmare. Lin Yan made this judgment in his mind.

The question is, whose nightmare is this? It's certainly not Lin Yan, because he's never seen anything like it before. And it shouldn't be Ruler either; he already knows her real name, and no matter how he thinks about it, it doesn't fit the era she lived in at all.

A biting wind blew past him, and a crumpled newspaper fluttered down to Lin Yan's feet.

Lin Yan read the words aloud. Ah, so that's how it is; he finally understood.

"From Hell". "Jack the Ripper".

This seems to be Jack the Ripper. The nightmare of the "Black" Assassin. But where is the Assassin, the key figure at the heart of the matter? She... no, should I say he? Is he male or female? This is too strange; how could I possibly forget something like this?

"Damn it, has the intelligence been erased again?"

The ability to repeatedly escape from cornered situations is almost an art. But this time, we will absolutely not let it escape.

Lin Yan started walking forward in search of Jack the Ripper. Suddenly, his vision distorted, and the scene changed in an instant.

Even at this point, Lin Yan could not deny that he harbored illusions about humanity.

His awakening of self-awareness was only a few days ago, and even with knowledge but no experience, he could not possibly have a true understanding of the grave sins committed by humanity.

What's even more fortunate is that the humans around him were all heroic spirits and heroes, which is crucial.

The world is beautiful, but Lin Yan still doesn't have a precise understanding of how much sacrifice people have made to realize this statement.

Laugh all you want, laugh all you want.

This is the lowest level of the world, the end of Naraku. Of course, I don't know what hell is, or even if such a thing exists.

For visitors, the only thing they can grasp is the fact that "this is undoubtedly hell." Whitechapel, London, the Great Human Wasteland. Once you fall in, you can never escape the lair of spider-like human faces.

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This place gathers everything in Pandora's box except hope. All disasters and all despair flow into it and converge, falling like sludge.

These prostitutes, who are monsters both inside and out, sell their sex and then use the money they get to destroy the lives that come from them.

Swish, swish, swish.

Repeatedly, repeatedly.

Swish, swish, swish.

Discarded, discarded, discarded, discarded.

The flesh and blood were all released into the river. Anyway, the factory discharges all kinds of waste liquid and sewage all day long, so adding a little more protein now won't make a big difference.

It's really nothing serious, absolutely no problem. Considering the so-called global trend, this is nothing more than insignificant sludge.

However, the monster reached out from that insignificant sludge and was born into the world.

Therefore, this place is hell, purgatory, and a city of vice inhabited by inhuman beasts.

Lin Yan saw it with his own eyes.

He witnessed a young girl being assaulted by a burly man with thick body hair in order to get her food for the day. He also saw a boy beating the girl to the ground with a stick in order to take her bread. Furthermore, he saw the boy having his hard-earned bread snatched away by a fierce-looking adult, and finally, the bread ending up in the hands of some inexplicable person.

He saw fetuses, and those born from unrestrained sexual intercourse, being discarded by the world one after another. In this hell, children were not killed, but consumed.

Then, the children's eyes began to lose their light. The world seemed to wrap around their bodies like cotton wool, and they could only be swallowed up by the snake, motionless.

So ugly.

It's absolutely hideous.

If there were some heinous being at play, it would be understandable. For example, a supervillain. If all of this was due to his control, Lin Yan could temporarily remain in the fantasy world. However, this is a "system," a bad debt, or rather, a festering sore, that humanity incurred in creating and developing cities.

You can't blame anyone, and you can't save anyone. No, it's impossible to save this situation. Because the act of saving itself is not recognized by the system.

"No."

Lin Yan trembled and squatted down. Although he had been on the verge of death more than once, those were all physical deaths. However, this scene was gradually killing Lin Yan's heart.

"No! Please, please, don't let me see this!"

Fantasy has been tainted, and the once beautiful and colorful scene is slowly fading.

"That's right, that's exactly it."

Before he knew it, the scenery had changed again. Thick smog obscured the view, even the moonlight couldn't penetrate. A chilling, eerie night. What exactly was that sound he'd just heard? After looking around, Lin Yan finally realized...

Now, he was standing alone in the middle of a street.

"What exactly does 'that' mean?"

Lin Yan couldn't help but ask directly. Just then, a figure seemed to move in the alley. Without hesitation, Lin Yan followed.

When they reached the end of the alley, they saw a ragged young girl standing there.

For some reason, Lin Yan immediately understood. She was Jack the Ripper.

"I'll ask you one more time, what exactly does 'that' mean?'"

The girl answered in a strangely distorted voice:

"The world is ugly."

Hearing a hoarse voice beside him, Lin Yan immediately turned to look. Standing there was another girl, also dressed in tattered clothes. The girl spoke:

"So, I really want to go back."

"Where exactly do you want to go back to?"

Then another sound came, this time from above. Walking nonchalantly across the wall was yet another raggedly dressed girl.

"I want to go back into my mother's tummy."

"I really want to go back."

"I really want to go back."

"I just want to go back into my mom's tummy."

"Why? Why does everyone bully me?"

"I desperately want to be saved, so why is no one willing to save me?"

"Are we wrong?"

Is it because they hate us?