F-Rank Soul Eater-Chapter 127: This Bastard.

[Alarm; 5:00 AM]

Soren’s eyes snapped open to the screaming holographic alarm in front of his face.

He turned it off.

This death had been different. Even his Blackfield had not warned him about it in time.

It was sudden, like taking a peaceful walk and having a brick hit you from nowhere.

Except in the few seconds before the death was finalised, he felt as if he had been hit by a truck.

Soren sat upright, legs folded in a lotus position.

According to the words he heard, Tommy died in the detention center.

His fist squeezed tight in rage.

If Soren had brothers then it was Tommy and Pencil.

The thought of losing them made him ache.

What happened with Machos was not a feeling he wanted to experience again.

But if Tommy was already dead, then it meant that—

His thought process paused.

He remembered the words of those men taking a quick smoke I the room filled with cabinets.

They said that Doctor Kaya confirmed that the seventeen were not yet dead.

Could it be that even though they were declared dead, they were not truly dead?

His mind flashed back to that cadet that had been attacked in his room.

Even though he was declared dead, body stiff as wood, his fingers still shook when they took him away.

Soren’s eyes brightened.

They were not dead.

At least not yet.

He did not know the specifics. But it was clear that Dr Kaya knew.

And if she knew that they were not dead, then she might also know how to help them.

But that explosion. It had not been fire or even a bomb.

It was ice.

And the death it gifted was instantaneous.

Whatever happened in that place was not normal.

While it had ended in tragedy, the silver lining was that he had another opportunity to repeat the day.

Meaning that he could catch that attacker.

Soren’s gaze focused.

He leaped out of bed.

After making the order for his and Pencil’s clothes. He sent out a few messages.

Then he called the porter.

[Network Error⚠️]

He frowned—tried again.

[Network Error⚠️]

But that shouldn’t be. He just made order for new clothes and the network was good then.

Nevertheless, no matter how hard he tried, it was the same thing.

There was no time to waste on this.

Soren opened the door—appearing just as Pencil had arrived in the hallway.

His friend waved at him.

Soren did not reply. He quickly walked up to Pencil, blocking the path of the passing bullies just before they would reach his friend.

They gave Soren an annoyed look. But kept to their path.

Soren did not care, pulling the surprised Pencil into his room.

Soren turned to him.

"There is no time to explain. Call the porter; for some reason, I can’t reach him."

"Uh... okay." Pencil acted without complaint.

"Soren... I don’t know why, but it’s not going through. Something about a network error.

I think the servers might be temporarily down."

Soren frowned—a thought popping in his head. "As this happened before?"

Pencil placed a finger on his lip in thought. Then he shook his head. "None that I know of."

Soren’s gaze tightened. Something was not right.

"Try reaching Polystar or Bloodshine."

Pencil tried again. Sending ’Hi’ to both of them.

It marked delivered. With Bloodshine replying immediately. ’Good morning 🤗.’

Soren’s mind spun again; something smelled fishy.

"Soren, is something wrong?" Pencil frowned at his agitated look.

"The moment I give the signal, try to call the porter again."

Pencil wanted to ask again. But he was smart enough to realize that it would do no good.

"Okay."

Then it came—

Knock on the door.

Soren opened it. The cadet with a horn on one side of his face handed Soren the clothes.

However, Soren did not close the door.

Just standing there.

Waiting.

Then he noticed a drop of sweat slide down the cadet’s brow.

His Blackfield spiked.

Soren shoved him to the side.

Just in time too.

Needles whistled into the room.

Soren dodged two of them.

Clang.

He parried the last one with his dagger.

In the distance—at the end of the hallway—was his target.

Now more than ever, he was sure of it. He had not been hallucinating the first time.

Soren kicked against the ground with a force far greater than what he used before.

"First Form: Thief’s void."

Silence.

The world slowed. His glutes tightened as he shot like an arrow.

Whoosh...

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of the black-clad figure.

His dagger struck without hesitation.

Slush...

He felt the familiar sensation of his dagger passing through flesh.

"Got you." He grinned.

This close, Soren could almost see under the hood of the person.

"Did you?" They asked back, similarly grinning.

Clasp—

They grabbed Soren’s extended arm firmly and then kicked him in the chest.

Boom.

The wall behind Soren caved on impact.

—Soren felt his insides compact as blood shot out his mouth.

THUD.

He fell to the ground.

That attack should have killed any normal person, but Soren had been using Ivory’s frog ability, which allowed him to tighten the muscles in his chest.

Still. The shock his body felt was profound.

Several ribs were broken, piercing into important organs.

His eyes stared at the black-clad figure.

—already recovered to his feet.

Black blood fell like paste from the wound Soren had inflicted, but his opponent did not seem to mind it.

They took a step forward.

With a flick of their wrist, more needles appeared—held in between their digits.

"Waterfell," they whispered low. "Entertaining..."

They raised their hand to attack again—

Boom.

Dust and stone scattered in all directions.

Soren, straining, looked up.

Cynthia.

Before Soren even went to get Pencil, he had sent her a message.

A good thing he did.

However, when the dust cleared, and Cynthia raised her hand from the crushed earth, they was no one there.

Just empty black cloth.

Soren’s brows creased. However, his eyes were already getting blurry.

Internal bleeding was getting worse.

But he could not let himself black out yet.

If he did, the medics woukd treat him and he would not be able to repeat the day.

With incredible determination to begin the day again, he slowly brought his dagger to his neck.

It was a strenuous hell.

I’ll get you, bastard.

Cynthia saw this and leaped to stop him.

[You died]