Instant Messiah

... Though I don't care.

I think the clearest eye is Mr. Gallon.

Regardless, it's about a fellow demon I know.

Everyone else has a variety of colors of their own thoughts and experiences, which are also beautiful and worthwhile for the eyes, but I can also say that it undermines a kind of purity.

In the meantime, only Mr Gallon, has not lost his transparency.

It's also simplicity, how young she has never thought about things in herself and only made good the values she was given, or how little she is by nature.

But I liked the way she smelled.

That's why I made her my mother.

Yes, that's why. To your mother.

... Mother. No, no, you didn't. She was, yes, originally my mother. Mothers are not what they become. It was meant to be. Mistakes.

Also.

... Anyway, I liked her purity, but I still liked seeing her change gradually because of her involvement with me.

When I said it, it brought me a sense of indescribable trance and guilt to twitch into a presence that is convenient to me and that gives me feelings of affection.

Because of this backward pleasure, I really don't want to escape, and that's why I came after her so desperately.

No, I mean.

I'm hilarious. Oh, my God, I just wanted to try and reason my behavior for just thinking about that.

... gaze with Mr. Gallon, who was blocked by Ninina and could hardly fit in. As soon as it fits, straight, straight, Mr. Gallon stared me in the eye.

Looks like my previous hegemony has returned. Still, it's not like before, that's what manipulated the clear malice against this one like when we first met (...) Emotions were coming up in those eyes.

So, on, I bumped into the dressed words and made them cry.

You want me to run?

Hey, Mr. Gallon.

You want me to put my mother down and run?

That's not true.

'Cause I'm Nine.

No more me as a crybaby. Then there isn't.

Since Mr. Gallon leaned down in tears, until Nina opened her mouth, I had no idea.

"Talk to me, that's it."

... planned harmony?

I deserved the place, and I got a stale dialogue. I guess I snorted honestly by accident.

"Really, somehow. Are you stupid or do you say you won't betray your expectations... you're such a troublesome man that I want to compliment you"

"I'm afraid."

"Ironic, idiot"

"I know."

Ninina lifted that hair up to her shoulder and sighed one zero.

"... well. Yeah. I mean, Atashi can't make any more concessions in front of juniors. You know what I'm trying to say?

"Well. All I know is that the girl next door is staring at me like she's going to heat my heart. It looks like it's ticklish."

"... really, too bad. If I were to miss this wanker here, I would have picked you up again. Really?"

"... I'm sorry too. I thought you might be able to tell the story."

"Negotiations, cracks and. Humans betray you. What touched your harp line so much, the princess of Infinity?"

"There's something cute about him. I'm not so light-hearted as to change my purpose lightly. [M] I'm already part of Diabolo."

In one word, the air changed.

"Confirm the declaration of heresy. One apostle, the eighth soprano pram. According to doctrine, we kill."

Daughter called Soprano.

She started slowly spreading her hands in front of her chest shortly after the words as she watched this one as she tried to kill herself.

"... Goodbye, boy. I'm so sorry."

That said, Ninina disappeared as abruptly as ever, like a comma drop.

That was the signal, and it was over.

It feels like cramping and shaking. Ground approaches, uncomfortable.

It was the first time I realized I was falling due to the impact of my body being slammed against the wall, no, the ground.

Ninina's signs are gone. It's not him.

Then there's no doubt that we're having this phenomenon, the other one.

Soprano. This is the woman.

I'll put my face up. My neck moves, but my vision is not good. A slightly darker cave was circling with glue, and an unsprickly sense of vomiting struck me.

My eyes... I can't use them. Switch (...).

Initiate heat source detection by virtual pit organs.

... the grace of Dear Tia... according to its function belonging to the serpent, soprano, Mr. Gallon, himself. I can see that the positional relationship between the three of them has not changed.

I mean, I crawled unnecessarily, not being able to touch a finger, while I said something scattered and great.

Unless you blinked and knocked me out in some weird pose that mimicked the cross.

It's me, Boulder. Too much miscellaneous fish.

No, I'm not kidding.

vomiting, headaches, they alternate caustic and intolerable. Disgusting.

"Ugh, gee! What, oh, whoa."

I threw up.

Even if I throw up, it's disgusting. Torture. Shit.

My brain cracks. But why don't you come and stab me?

Why didn't you come? Though there will be gaps.

Come closer. That's right, even though I can do it.

What causes this phenomenon?

Why isn't one step closer?

There is no gap.

Parallel use of sight as a source of heat with a puffy contour and normal sight, with nausea.

Focusing on her whirling, foolish vision anyway, Miss Soprano found herself looking down at us with her arms as wide open as ever.

But that's all. I didn't do anything else.

It was like killing a bug. I couldn't help but notice the emotion of killing me. My spine was cold.

What, this guy.

What am I doing?

Do it.

What should I do?

- Cancer, giraffe, giraffe.

I've never felt sick so far. Scare.

... I can't do a net story without even pretending calmly, that's not very offensive to say.

The body was honest and vomited again, even though I was forced to pretend to be such a swallow on some parts of my brain.

Seeing blood mixed in the diarrhea, it kicks inside mentally and makes me cold sweat.

Still, the soprano is looking down at this one, in that rare, roundabout pose...... no, even imitating the Salian symbol, in any case in a henchy outfit.

Those eyes are frigid, but I have no doubt they are the kind of gaze that is definitely treating this one like a cockroach.

The mouth is gently repeated opening and closing, whining about something...... some sorcery? Even so, we do not know the kind of change that causes this state of affairs.

In the first place, I can't do a lot of magic in the cave. In the light of simple shock, heat, and other common sorcery, chanting in narrow places that can be damaging to you cannot be said to be clever.

Then I guess it's uncommon sorcery. I can see that far.

That's all I know, so I'm crawling around at the moment without even helping the fuck out. I'm angry.

…………

Soprano's voice, I can't hear you. If it is a chant, it needs to be connected to Mana, i.e. the world. You should need a louder voice.

I mean, the world won't listen to me when I complain in the first place.

Like Rogue, is he knitting a peculiar sorcery with his breath?

"Eh."

Vishavisha and the watery thing splashed out of my mouth, where there was nothing to throw up.

Blood.

Mixed with an earlier gelo, cloudy and unlike that, the color flavor you deserve to call blood showed that it was zero hemorrhage from your lungs.

Damage to the body is accumulating.

…………

I know Mr. Gallon is shouting something at us, but I can't hear him.

Gulala, Gulala. The contents of my head are shaken. Is that feeling in the way of hearing her voice?

In the meantime, I know that you look definitely better than me.

Ho, I won't. If I do, I'm going to pass out. And you'll probably die just like that.

... Tia's power is not that convenient. In that case, it's just that I'm dying like hell. [M]

... soprano is still not getting close.

Why.

Why not?

'We can approach the truth by repeating our doubts and answers'.

This is my starting point.

Understand. What am I being done now?

…… ……

Mr. Gallon's cry. The air, it trembles.

But I can't hear her.

Mr. Gallon is desperately trying to get close to us, tied up.

Oh, you shouldn't do that.

Don't crawl around like that.

It's my job to do that.

The people of the festival are not interested when the gods that lift them are defiled.

That pride I deserve to love. Daughter. Adorability. Kindness, rigour. Purity. Beauty.

Oh, I didn't want to see you like that because you're beautiful all over the mud.

You demons are beautiful.

Beautiful about the time my eyes are about to burn.

Why, you girls are beautiful.

Why, now I'm undermining her beauty.

Why, now, I can't hear her beautiful voice.

Hihihihihihihihi. Doesn't matter?

It doesn't matter.

They, I, the Demons, the Apostles, beauty, misery, discomfort, vomiting.

Time, smell, space, vibration, heat.

Taste, distance, dream, chant, sound.

Pain, oppression, mana, number, quality, education.

Past, present, future.

It's all, it's all causal. There's one, there's two. Then it becomes the first three.

Even the scattered thoughts I'm thinking about right now, for a reason. I'm sure there is. Otherwise, my brain is dying and sometimes it becomes completely unusable.

God can only tell me it's not true because I don't know for myself.

And I don't like God, so there's no one to tell me. [M]

I doubt it, but I use it.

Just so I know, my world is before me.

Just the information I know, I can break this situation.

Here, me. Think about it.

… the chanting possibilities have not disappeared. Rather expensive.

One of the reasons. There is no contact on the skin other than the ground. The possibility of an invisible weapon is extremely unlikely.

Reason two. The gut has been scanned. There is no possibility of poison.

Reason three. I haven't come to stab the stop. Now I can kill for sure. I can't even stand anymore. If it's magic that requires concentration, this situation can be.

... Such a joke phenomenon must be witchcraft or something similar. I don't have time for this, I'm dying.

Let's just assume that. Let's give up when it comes off. Next.

Why can't you hear the chant, which should be essential for witchcraft?

One of the hypotheses. I didn't chant it in the first place. Like Rogue, using magic as a catalyst other than chanting? Insane premise in the first place, but unknown. Whatever the precedent, it's unlikely.

Hypothesis two. I'm chanting, but I'm not hearing you. Or the chant itself......

... Ah, I guess this is it.

When that happens, the approach to hearing?

Is this also what you haven't heard from Mr. Gallon?

The Triple Pipe... Oh, damage. I support two of the hypotheses.

... Dear Tia. Precision inspection near the inner ear, please.

... Oh, I knew it? With the magic from your ear, it looks like you're being disturbed? Micro-precision, magical vibration manipulation?

I mean, sound. Oh, I'm gonna use the Egg moves.

... sound, that is, vibration of the air... a form of wide-area magic, but I wonder if it can also make it oriented, because of its small energy? Maybe it's because it's in the cave.

Either way, if they had caught the first assumption that it wasn't chanting, it would have sucked.

The reason you haven't attacked Mr. Gallon... is because he's a hostage?

Hostages against me, or do you need to keep her alive because the only reason you captured her originally was because it was for a purpose other than life?

... No. Let's get you to throw up.

I threw up. I threw up. Otherwise it is unfair.

"Ugh."

One scratch of dirt in his mouth and squeeze his full strength once more in his sumptuous vision.

I finally turned from predator to enemy, lifting my soprano, my heavier head, and looking up.

When the man in front of you is just a cannibal, he looks up at the little girl who still believes she remains a prey.

Damn it, I still looked down.

What a messenger, your great name. I'm going to repaint that wretched twat.

I'm an egalitarian.

Look at that.

... I'm sure you didn't hear me, but I shrugged.

... Nanjutsu, I stuck my index finger in both ears, wondering if it hurt after all.

My finger, behind my ear, which is not supposed to reach, that again.

Some sort of undisclosed part that won't even be reached when cleaning your ears.

I can't believe you have goosebumps even when you plug a little too much ear in, but you have wings to do this.

An important organ that is delicate and presides over one of a person's five senses.

I can't believe you're going to ravage it yourself.

... Oh, the pain hasn't come yet. The vomiting that was earlier blows away, blank time.

A small amount of time given to decide to be prepared for the pain that will eventually strike.

Twitching, the warmth characteristic of the head where the blood is gathered, is transmitted twitching to both index fingers, and at the same time realizing it, the sound of the heart takes hold, claiming to be out of the way.

However, if it's any kind of bad talk, you should have ignored it.

But if trembling the tympanic membrane mediates this sorcery, I have limited means at my disposal. Most importantly, I didn't even have time to look for options anymore.

I feel the feeling of lukewarmness reaching the root of my nails.

Damn it, yes, I don't want to show it if I can be disrespectful. To Mr. Gallon,... and to the woman in front of you.

But no.

This feeling, oh, it's coming, the pain, it's coming...!

Shortly before, I felt the diaphragm move naturally in an attempt to give you a scream that could undo as much pain as I could.

"Gu, ha ha ha ha ha!

I can't believe this is happening.

I won't forgive you.

I can't stop sniffing if my body as well as my voice is having a rejection.

Hindi, hindi fever and pain are raging around the side of the brain.

"Gu, ha, ha, ha, ha! Ha! Ahhh...!

Yes. I've never tasted this hand pain in my slave years either.

This guy, I won't forgive you.

- Look at the man under your eyes, Soprano.

If I'm being honest.

The ability of other apostles to possess… Compared to gifts, it is incomparably weaker than it was given to me, the killing power of this sorcery, etc. I know that, I realize that.

Extensive scorching with simple heat with overwhelming annihilation, like Senior Rogue.

Like Senior Koko, the technique of terror that can be killed, albeit one or eight, in character, or in large numbers, regardless of such things.

Such an alien ability, like Senior Eve, with versatility beyond the realm of man, that may be taken as a sort of disrespect but can approach God.

I don't have anything like that.

But what is sound?

It reaches faster than a sword and even farther than a whip.

My weapon is simple and simple.

Above all, I thought I was an excellent means of attack because I didn't have the means to counter it from what I found out......

I consider my magic to be better than anyone else's if it is combat support in conjunction with other apostles.

What the hell can he do with his ears shut while he's fighting?

I don't know if Senior Ninina was purposefully buying time, but while I was talking to this man, I was already ready to chant.

Sound is my means of attack.

I didn't mind it being known. That happens all the time when you deal with tough demons.

But a lot of them have better hearing than people. Those guys just resent their own sturdiness and only suffer for a long time.

Even my surgery, a gift from God.

It's not something a normal person can resist.

The truth is, perhaps we should have used simpler means of attack. The more the human body, the less impossible it is to destroy it with only simple vibrations.

But you didn't choose that option.

As against the Demons, I first chose a cruel means that did not actually suit my taste: a thorough weakening, a kind of painful boring death.

An unpleasant sound, heard from the man in front of you. That's why.

Senior Ninina said she didn't notice.

He didn't even notice Senior Rogue. He probably lost out in the first place because Senior Lily pissed him off and he didn't get really raped, but I'm sure he doesn't realize the real anomaly of this guy.

Because.

Because from this guy, there's no human noise.

So, see.

"but ahhhhhhhhh!

There's no way a human can do this.

"Ha, ha..., uhh...!

Nine, this man's, earlier frenzied screams also dive into the ringing, where I realize my body trembled slightly.

No more sound attacks on the interior of the body. The means of mediation are gone.

Distance first. To your advantage, to take advantage of the length of your range......!

I think so, a moment behind me.

You can't even hear that sound the earliest, but the nines bleed out of your ears and left you looking down, your face.

I pointed both eyes at you.

"... hey, shall we dance?

"... is, ah?

"Dancing opponent, please? Soprano, cha...?

That, the moment I heard a grossly gentle, cut cat's voice.

My body was sweeping out of the cave wall, away from him, at will, with all my might.