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墨書 Inktalez
A calf-sized Black Pig stood right in the middle of the intersection. Fatty was naturally there as well, dismembering the Big Black Pig.
As I shone my flashlight across, I caught a glimpse of him. He made an obscene gesture towards me. It seemed that the light affected his vision, as he quickly turned his back to us.
Fatty's sudden shout jolted me out of my confusion and chaos. I hurriedly directed the beam of my One-Eyed Beast Flashlight towards him.
At that moment, Fatty had already risen to his feet, holding a bloody Hakka Straight Knife in his right hand and something soaked in blood in his left as he approached us. The torch was stuck in the Black Pig's body, and under the illumination of both the torchlight and my flashlight, Fatty appeared to be the most vibrant and clear figure. However, his expression was dark and complex, a mix of fear and anger, radiating a murderous aura.
I knew none of us three had thrown him, nor could we have done so. Aside from me, who could still move somewhat, Jack would break into a cold sweat with even the slightest movement, and Tang Yumo was wedged between us; she couldn't even pass gas without us noticing.
Though Fatty still limped as he walked, he quickly reached us. I looked at his fierce face and anxiously shouted, " Fatty, don’t be ridiculous! None of us threw you."
"I know it wasn't you," Fatty panted for some reason as he turned his face towards Jack. "And it wasn’t you either. But I want to know whose this is."
With that, Fatty tossed the bloody object from his left hand into Jack's arms.
As he did this, a pungent smell of blood assaulted my senses, causing me to frown. I heard Jack utter two trembling words in a low voice: "Mine."
"You threw this?!" I could hardly believe my ears; I also couldn't believe Jack would do something so childish.
"I threw it," Jack's voice was even lower now, sounding like a remorseful prisoner.
"This is impossible! Are you crazy? I was right next to you just now; there's no way I wouldn't know if you threw something. What are you trying to do? Anger Fatty? Get him to give you a quick end? There's no need for that. Just come to me; I still have plenty of bullets left. Dying under Muzzle is less painful than being stabbed."
To my surprise, aside from me, the other two involved did not show the expected anger or agitation. My monologue echoed in the air and then faded away, leaving the space silent once more.
"It wasn't just now." After a long pause, Jack finally spoke up with a surprisingly normal tone, saying something abnormal.
I turned my head in confusion. Through Tang Yumo, I looked at Jack. He was carefully wiping the object that Fatty had thrown to him with the corner of his clothing; his shirt front was covered in blood. He had wrapped the object in his clothing and was focused on cleaning it, ignoring my puzzled gaze.
At that moment, Fatty displayed an unusual amount of patience, standing in front of Jack with his head lowered, watching Jack methodically clean that object. I knew this wasn't Fatty's usual temperament. His restraint was building up anger; when it reached its peak, his blood-soaked Straight Blade would surely taste blood again. He wasn't a patient person; he preferred to express his anger through action.
My nerves were stretched to the breaking point as I anxiously watched Jack. It felt like fire was rising in my throat; I opened my mouth but couldn't find the words. I was already considering how to block this knife for Jack—whether to leap onto him now or wait to see Fatty's next move.
'Smack!'
A flash of light momentarily blinded me. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the light vanished, revealing a brand new One-Eyed Beast Flashlight before my eyes.
"I threw it down from above. It still works. However, it seems to be out of batteries. You should have some batteries over there, right?" Jack's tone returned to normal and remained calm.
I glanced at Fatty. Seeing that he showed no signs of exploding for the time being, I took the Flashlight that Jack handed over. "Yes, I still have some batteries here; this time, it wasn't me who threw something."
I pretended to joke to divert the topic and distract Fatty's attention, but instead, it drew a look of astonishment from him. I awkwardly smiled at Fatty but suddenly read something in his eyes that jolted me awake.
'Swish!'
My face instantly turned towards Jack. "What? Did you throw that down from above? It just fell now, almost hitting Fatty."
"Almost?" Fatty said, one bloodied hand reaching into my flashlight. "It hit me on the head; it nearly killed me, that's the truth."
"That's not important." I didn't even look back, my eyes fixed firmly on Jack.
"Damn it," Fatty immediately expressed his dissatisfaction.
Fatty's curse only brought me a sense of relief. I knew that his earlier silence wasn't a buildup of anger; there wouldn't be an explosion of rage that I couldn't imagine.
"I mean, you weren't prepared for the worst. Death isn't necessarily the worst outcome."
"Don't talk to me about that!" I shouted. At this close distance, my tone and spit sprayed onto Jack's face, and I noticed it was slightly damp. "I know you threw down a flashlight from above, but when did that happen? It must have been before you fell. You, me."
I pointed again at Fatty and Tang Yumo. "We came after you? Weight determines speed? Newton's Three Laws don't apply here?"
Jack wiped the spit off his face but remained silent, staring straight at me as if my questions were beneath his notice.
This only fueled my anger further; I couldn't calm down. There was a fire inside me that needed to be released, or I would go insane. The person who seemed to be holding back their rage wasn't Fatty; it was me.
"Can you be sure this is the flashlight you threw down?"
I saw a glimmer of pity in Jack's eyes, which only made my fury boil over even more.
"Answer me!"
Jack sighed. "This is a new flashlight. Of course, I won't, and I don't have time to mark it. But we only have two spare flashlights left, and this one is either the one from your backpack or the one I dropped."
"That's just quibbling! If it's a new flashlight with new batteries, how could it run out of power after falling from above? But my flashlight still has power! How do you explain that? Is the flashlight broken? I'll prove to you whether it's the batteries that are dead or if it's broken."
Like a monkey on a sugar rush, I couldn't stop myself; I had to do something to release my pent-up excitement. I replaced the batteries in Jack's flashlight, and it emitted a blinding white light.
"See? This is a flashlight that has run out of power, not your new flashlight!"
Jack pressed his lips together, seemingly making up his mind. He took off the luminous watch from his wrist that had made me envious. "Take a look."
I froze, a strong sense of fear enveloping me. (To Be Continued.)
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