SSS-Class Suicide Hunter

1.

The cave is full of air. It's cold. Goblins sniff their noses, but even when the cold steam sticks to their flesh, they don't say anything.

The Goblins were silent for a thousand years.

- A great warrior died in battle today.

Among them, someone said badly.

- The warrior's name is Gyari. Ker. daughter of Orogan and Gorge, warriors of the White Mane tribe, and descendants of Gorgier, the Great Warrior who inherited the tattoo from the White Lion.

The one who spills his voice is not revealed. Buried in the crowd. Leaning against the shadow of your own kind and the shadow of the cave, one Goblin spoke. It was not a speech because it was not a speech standing on the stage.

- He was a neat one.

- He beat someone up when he was a kid, and then he got beaten to death.

Goblins spoke freely because it was not a single speech. In a dark cave. Goblins hang up their words and toss them around. Fragments of horses were gathered and someone's life was assembled into fragments.

- He didn't remember hitting her.

- You were right, but you didn't forget. Kerr.

- He was a poisonous kid. I remember. Gorge tried to tattoo the giraffe as a child. However, Gyehli shook his head and said he would paint it himself. He saw other people's tattoos and followed them.

- Kerr. Gyari was always the one who shook his head.

A life is brought together as a spoil. A thousand fragments. A thousand postcards were making up a story of a Goblin called a ‘giraffe.’

I realized.

‘…… It's a funeral. ’

A Goblin died in a Colosseum match today. The name of the tribe was Gyari. Those who knew him and talked to him once are now gathered here underground.

- For Gary, it's like cutting a man's head off.

- He thought it was the same thing. Glug.

- That's why you became a gladiator.

The campfire rages.

Shadows are etched on the walls of the cave. Goblins in the shadows are indistinguishable. It was colonized. The puffy shadows narrow their jaws.

- 36 of his kin were killed by the sword of Gyari.

- A cruel child.

-Kerker grins when the Sanwa branded him with the sword. He thought it was a great tattoo.

- Scary kid.

- He was a happy boy, but all he was allowed to do was fight in the arena. The only adversaries allowed in Guerrey were his own kind. Glug. It was his misfortune that he had to kill his own kind with a happy knife.

- Glug.

- It's hard to say.

- Poor kid.

The campfire rages.

- Is he one of our own?

The shadows answer.

- Gor.

- Yarry is a tattoo artist. The painter. He who loves the mud and misses the rain.

- We're the Yanks.

The old voice said.

- Giarri will return to the pit.

Guru.

He used to say that to me.

As I watched the Goblins' funeral, I heard the tower's voice.

[You witnessed the Teaching of the Guru Church of the Designated People.]]

The letters followed before my eyes.

+

[Teacher in Guru]

Classification: Religion. White Lion Faith.

Origin: [cognition (C)]

Description: "Gru" is the home of all designations. Guru is the first village built by the Designated People since the fall of the Golden Age. Google is a designated country. It is a place where warm streams of water flow and soft clay is quenched.

Guru.

It is the last place White Lion stayed.

Designated tribes do not leave this world and the next. It just distinguishes between "guru" and "non-guru." What the designators expect in life is rain and mud, lots of meat, lots of comfortable dragonflies, all of which are found in the world. The faith of the afterlife is unnecessary for the designated tribe.

Home to all tribes.

They want to go back to the guru.

However, as time goes by, the memory of the guru becomes blurred.

If you leave it like this, the 'guru’ will turn into an abstract place forever! In that case, the idea of a sphere is not a world, but a space somewhere else.

It's been a long time since the Designated Tribe lost a Grub! It is possible that Teacher Guru will turn into a doctrine for the ‘afterlife'!

+

"......."

I stared blankly at the explanatory window.

There were some words that I found difficult to understand.

But there was something only I could understand.

“It was a name I didn't think of. Guru.”

My heart ached.

“…… it meant a lot to these kids."

Something.

I felt something I'd never felt before.

It was really bizarre. I was glad the Goblins grew up on their own without me. But I was afraid that the words I had thrown without thinking had become one thing for these children, that they were stiff in meaning, and that they were dependent on them.

A small heart.

I was worried about these kids.

“Children……."

Oh, I see.

“This is what it feels like to see children. ”

I had never imagined that I would have a child. I didn't think of myself as someone's parent. But whether it was intentional or unintended, I acted like a parent to the designee.

I've never hit a baby before, so I don't know.

"......."

My heart was flustered.

- Glug.

An old Goblin walks out. A campfire was burning in the middle of the cave. As the old Goblin stood in front of the campfire, the designators who had been throwing fragments of Gary all along the mainland kept their mouths shut.

Static.

The old Goblin waited until the static became more transparent.

“… huh?"

You put your hands in the blazing campfire.

“Wait. Is that, like, a self-immolation thing...?"

- No, look, zombie. Your hands aren't on fire.

The messenger stopped my worries.

- He knows how to use error.

“Yes?”

- He's a user. I'm wrapping my hands around an orb.

The messenger was right.

I couldn't see very well from the cover of the flames, but apparently, the Goblin's wrinkly hands were covered in error. A red orb. The old Goblin buries his hands in the campfire.

Glug glug!

The flame rises.

The campfire, which was just burning, bends strangely. The old man uses his error expressionlessly to touch the fire. At the end of the old man's touch, the flame rose like an ascending dragon, swirling like a swirling swirl, and spreading like a blossoming flower.

-.......

Goblins stared at the unspoken flame. Like an audience watching the stage, the Goblins' eyes were still.

Bloop. Bloop! Bloop!

The cave was huge, but the vast air was all black. The flame was the only colorful light that caught everyone's eye.

‘Ah.'

And I understood.

‘That's a picture. ’

Yes, it is.

The old man painted with fire.

The flame burns.

Each one of them burned differently in Tao.

The fire of the bifurcation splitted open and soared to the height, up, and ceiling of the cave.

▲.

It was anger.

A puddle of fire strikes the ceiling and scatters the mountains. Flames pour down like petals. Slowly. Slowly. In the dark cave, the sparks flashed, shimmered, and disappeared. Darkness remains in the place of disappearance.

▼.

It was sad.

The flame burns steadily in the campfire.

Good night. Five ways. Five fingers.

However, the fingers of the flame did not reach the ceiling. I couldn't help but catch the flames that were pouring down. Between the flames falling from heaven and the flames rising from the earth, there was an air that could not be filled.

▼

▲.

It was the death of Gyari and their burial.

The Goblins cry silently.

Everyone who watched the flames knew the meaning of the flames. It was their text. It was a letter. It was a picture. The finest wavering flame, the powerless Sagrad, was one clear gesture for even a single spark.

The old man burns.

[You have witnessed the bloodshed of a designated tribe.]

The letter shines in the flames.

+

[hemorrhaging]

Classification: Art.

Origin: [Primitive Fashionista (E)]

Description: Bloodshed is a designational art. After being conquered by the Sanwa tribe and dragged to the community city of Slimepolis, the designated tribes became difficult to obtain clay. It makes it difficult to express graphic characters.

‘should be drawn. ’

However, the aesthetic of the designated tribe did not fade.

‘I want to. ’

Rather, it burned up.

Designated people chose fire as a substitute for mud.

In a dark cave, it's hard to recognize the painting. But when you use sparks, the darkness of the cave suddenly turns into a giant plot of paper. Designated people embrace and use cave life.

‘Beautiful.'

The clay was fascinated by the art of fire.

‘Gor.’

A cave fire.

Designated tribes have named this Bleeding Fire. Sometimes it is a picture of a cave, and sometimes it is called Blood or Blood.

The fire burns and then disappears. Leave no trace. Therefore, it is good to avoid surveillance of the mountains and mountains.

It is polite not to make any noise when observing bloodshed. This is also to keep the mountain tribes out of the picture.

Good luck with the quiet fire.

However, only error users can demonstrate blooming.

Very few of the designated tribes know how to use error! There is only one priest who uses the red error. If a priest dies without leaving an heir, the art of bloodshed deteriorates.

+

The old man shakes his hand in the flames.

Hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...

The once-burning fire gradually subsided. No more smashing into the ceiling and breaking fire. No more burning flames in the firewood. The fire subsides quietly, leaving no trace.

And then it went off.

●.

The night has come.

-.......

As the campfire subsides, the cave is completely darkened.

There was no light anywhere.

By putting out the fire, the old man drew the last picture that bloodshed could express. The darkness of the cave was no longer the air. It was an old man's painting.

-.......

Goblins saw the night, and in the middle of the night, the nazi cried.

- …… Choose…….

No one lights the torch. It was ● now. Goblins accepted ●. Someone didn't tell you to go back and didn't tell you to go back, but the Goblins turned around on their own.

To sleep.

Goblins stutter on their way down. ● There was nothing inside.

However, there was still his body odor.

The Goblins come home in droves, sniffing at the smell of their own kind. Nose was the best designee. The other Goblins grabbed his hand or shoulder and followed.

So the Goblins left the cave and their own temple.

"......."

The temple that was built in the underworld is behind me.

And only an old Goblin priest remains.

- Kerr... Kerr...

The old man sits at the bottom of the cave, wondering if his strength is weak. This seemed to be his home. Goblins left some fish behind while they were leaving the temple, and the old man sat down and ate some.

"......."

I watched the tribes of the temple in the cave without a word.

Here, the children of the earth were buried. I buried the death of my own people.

I never taught them funerals. He never told me how to swallow death. All I taught him was a tattoo to cover his stench, and a picture to represent the six worlds.

That's it.

Along with that, the Designated People set up a temple. I found the fire myself.

"I may be the parents of these children..."

I opened my mouth.

“These children are not mine. ”

It was never as big as I thought, and it never grew as I expected. These children found their own way.

I learned how to accept death.

I was proud of it.

- Kerr...

Leaving the old priest behind, I went up to the underground city.

‘Now I know what to do for my children. ’

Cheer, not salvation.

Not worry, encouragement.

‘Cheering and encouraging these children. That's what I do. ’

A great pillar of the mountain tribe was built.

Yesterday, a group of separated colleagues gathered there. I wonder if everyone has looked around at their own kind like me. The black dragon casts a silent glance down at the ground, and the serpent frowns and folds his arms.

“Ah. Here you are, my king! ”

The Inquisitor waves his hand.

“The Four Kings are the latest! So, have you decided? ”

“Yes."

I nodded.

“I can't give up on you, either. I will not let the children I cared for lose their letters and forget their hometown. ”

“Aha. What then? ”

“I'll help the designees escape from your basement. Inquisitor.”

I told you.

“And I'm going to kick you off the 32nd floor. ”

“Ah-ha-ha.”

The Inquisitor grins.

“I thought a tetrarch wouldn't do that. Just as I expected! Good. I bet on the Sanwa and the Four Kings on the Designation. Let's wage war on each other's races! ”

That was our declaration of war.