Rebirth-Transcending All Beings-Chapter 77: Blowfish?

The forest sounded underwater. Distant and muffled during the process. As the air now reeked of his blood and flesh.

For a breath that did not exist there was nothing.

[Regeneration Factor has been activated.]

A divine glow spread like cracks of blue lightning through the space where Vergil’s head had once been.

First, bone began knitting itself back together, groaning and cracking like branches breaking in reverse.

Then came the sinew and muscle, sliding and tightening like bands of wet rope. Finally, his skin stretched and sealed over, wrapping him like a canvas being re-stitched in divine embroidery.

His eyes flickered open, faint trails of divine steam hissing from the corners.

"Goddammit," he muttered, clicking his tongue in irritation as he pushed himself upright, face slightly smoking from the divine backlash, however it faded instantly. "Divine energy sucks shit."

His hands instinctively touched his face, just to make sure it was still there. His eyes felt dizzy but soon returned to normal.

He remembered the silence. That was something he didn’t like.

He wiped some dust off his shoulder.

[Na bro, the way your head popped just now–]

The system’s voice chimed in, clearly stifling laughter.

Vergil narrowed his eyes. "What."

[–it reminded me of something. Hold on... HAHAHA–]

The voice dissolved into laughter.

Vergil stood silently, a twitch visible on the corner of his mouth. "Spit it out."

[You looked like a goddamn PUFFERFISH! HA!]

The words echoed in his head with cartoonish exaggeration.

Vergil blinked. "Oh... my... days," placing his left hand on his face.

[You know–those little sea freaks that inflate when they’re scared back in your old world, Your face went POOF! Like BWOMP, then KABLAM, then just...nothing.]

"...Right." Vergil’s face was flat. Dry. Emotionless. Unamused. "I nearly died, by the way."

[And you nearly killed me from laughter.]

"...You’re a system. You can’t die."

[Says who? You almost made my data crash, ’Blowfish.’]

Vergil’s lips twitched again. Not toward a smile—more like toward violence.

"Blowfish?"

[Yup. That’s your new nickname. Deal with it. Every time you mess up your control again, I’m calling you that.]

"You’re not calling me that."

[Too late. Already stored it in the nickname registry.]

Vergil sighed, wiping a smear of dried blood from his cheek. "You’re enjoying this way too much."

[Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one who tried to pump divine energy throughout your body and move]

"That’s what training is, jackass."

[Training is incremental. That was suicide. You had divine confetti coming out of your skull.]

Vergil closed his eyes, mentally counting down from ten. "...Why do you even have a sense of humor?"

[Because without it, I’d have to acknowledge your life choices with genuine concern.]

"...And here I thought we were building a bond."

[Oh we are! Bond of mockery, sarcasm, and secondhand embarrassment.]

Vergil started walking again, shaking his head.

[Anyway, you’re stable now. You only have 2 more lives you know, just making sure it gets into your thick skull)

"...Great. Maybe it’ll protect me from your jokes." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

[No promises, Blowfish.]

Vergil didn’t respond. He just sighed again, reaching up to touch his newly regenerated head. It was smooth. No scars. No signs of trauma. Only the divine warmth lingering under the skin.

’That regeneration factor... really is something else,’ he thought to himself. ’But damn... controlling divine energy manually is harder than I thought. It’s like holding lightning with chopsticks.’

[Hey Blowfish.]

"Stop calling me that."

[You thinking deeply again? Let me guess: ’I am Vergil, and I must suffer through pain and divine eye-bombs alone.’ Dramatic inner monologue intensifies.]

"...I’m ignoring you."

[Can’t ignore truth, buddy. And truth is–you’re hilariously bad at first attempts.]

"...I hate you."

[Love you too, Blowfish.]

Vergil’s face twitched once more before he picked up his face. Accelerating into a light jog as he pushed mana into his limbs.

This time, he kept divine energy sealed, letting it rest quietly in his right eye.

The road ahead led towards the distant academy. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it.

He still had a birthday cake to earn. Somehow.

And maybe, just maybe... a chance to punch the system in the mouth. If it ever had one.

[Next time you blow your head up, at least give me a warning. I wanna screenshot it when I gain the ability to.]

Vergil didn’t look back. He just raised a hand and flipped the system off.

[Ooooh! Emotional damage! Quick—Regeneration Factor: Ego.]

"Shut. Up."

Vergil paused for a second, then narrowed his eyes.

"...Wait. Didn’t you say unlock the ability to screenshot?"

[...Shit.]

He stopped mid-stride. "Oh hell no. You’re gonna be taking pictures everywhere I go, aren’t you?"

[Well, not yet... but soon, hehehe.]

Vergil groaned before resuming his jog. "What kind of system did that bastard give me."

[’Blowfish Chronicles: Volume 1.’ Cover art pending.]

He tuned the voice out with a deep breath, his footsteps soft but swift against the grass and stone path beneath him. He let his mana flow naturally, imitating the flow of nature–letting it run its course.

The forest once again thickened around him, birds flitting above canopies along with the occasional roar of monster’s.

Vergil saw very few beasts–wolves a deer and even a sloth the size of a horse–but he passed them all.

Most weren’t aggressive, and more importantly...

"Unedible," he muttered.

[You sure? I heard roasted toxic deer’s the newest superfood.]

"No. I like my stomach intact even if i can heal, thanks."

Then, ahead, something caught his eye.

A massive boar stood near a shallow stream, its thick hide the color of dry bark as jt snorted once and dug at the ground beneath.

Vergil licked his lips. "Now that’s dinner."

Silently and swiftly, he leapt onto a tree branch, pulling his bow from his inventory.

"It’s been a while," he whispered, stringing an arrow.

[Sword-Bow Mastery has been activated.]

Adjusting his stance, thr tension in his limbs smoothed out naturally as the bow aligned with his grip. His eyes narrowed onto the target, his fingers drew back.

Mana left his fingertips moving to surround the arrowhead with a faint hum. Although his form was imperfect, they were guided by his muscle memory.

The arrow fired.

TWANG–

And curved.

The arrow flew past the boar’s ear and thudded into a tree behind it.

[Bender.]

"...Shut it," he muttered. His voice laced with annoyance

The boar flinched, then squealed in alarm. Its hooves slamming into mud as it bolted.

But Vergil didn’t panic. His eyes sharpened. His instincts kicked in.

Dropping from the branch, he activated Shadow Dash, his form blurring as he zipped across, weaving past roots and branches with an almost inhumane speed.

He could hear the panicked breath of the boar, the thump of its heart, the skid of its hooves.

He caught up in seconds.

The boars tails whipped at Vergil’s eyes, but Vergil could foresee its movement. Narrowly dodging it.

Drawing his sword mid-run from his inventory, he surged forward, sliding beneath it.

Swoosh

One clean slash.

The sword now tainted red, carved through its belly. The creature’s legs gave out as it crashed into the ground with a guttural squeal. Its innards began to spill along eith the scent of blood polluting the air.

Vergil skidded to a stop beside it, his shirt now soaked in red, clinging to his chest.

He let out a long exhale.

The boar twitched once, then went still.

He glanced down at the mess covering him.

"Damn," he muttered, peeling the ruined top off and tossing it over a branch. "I really liked this shirt."

[You know, if you’d hit the first shot, your clothes would still be perfect.]

"I said shut it."

[Just saying. The boar looked at you like, ’You missed? Seriously?’]

Vergil ignored him and crouched beside the corpse, pulling out the blade and began carving meat from the thickest parts of the boar’s flank.

’Thank God mother taught me how to eat boar meat.’

He needed food, rest, and a better damn shirt.

But at least tonight... he’d eat well.

And maybe. Just maybe he would try again.