Apocalypse Baby

Chapter 117 Dorion's Mess

The old man's presence carried a weight that was impossible to ignore, but what stood out more was the subtle yet unmistakable animosity radiating from him.

Alex tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes.

Why?

The probable answer sparked fear in Alex's mind—but rather intrigue.

This man wasn't just dangerous; Alex could sense it.

The old man was far more powerful than anyone Alex had encountered in the entire tutorial so far.

But even as Alex acknowledged the old man's strength, a grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

Despite his strength, he's not at my level.

The tension thickened as the old man's gaze swept over them. Finally, the old ronin broke the silence, his voice deep and measured, each word deliberate.

"Greetings... I'm Ralph Onigi. I couldn't help but overhear. You mentioned a kid with a scythe?"

Alex's grin faltered for a split second.

Dorion? So that's what this is about.

Before Alex could respond, Freya spoke up, her voice carrying a mix of eagerness and caution.

"Yes, Dorion. Did you see him? It'd be hard to miss him—his craziness stands out a lot."

The old man considered her words, his expression unreadable.

Then he nodded slowly as if piecing together a puzzle.

"He must be from your tutorial, then."

"Yes, he is..." Freya replied eagerly, but then her excitement faltered as she processed Ralph's words.

"Wait... what do you mean by my tutorial?"

Alex's gaze remained fixed on Ralph for a moment, his mind working quickly to piece everything together.

Then he muttered, almost to himself, as he nodded slowly.

"Oh, I see... that explains it now."

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Freya blinked, still trying to catch up. Her confusion was written all over her face.

"Explains what? I'm so lost right now."

Alex let out a short breath, finally turning to look at her.

"Since this started, I've been wondering what happened to all the people who didn't show up here. After all, the world's population isn't just in the thousands. I thought the numbers didn't add up."

Freya tilted her head, hanging on his every word but still unsure where he was going.

"But now it makes sense," Alex continued. "They split everyone into separate tutorials. Some people are going through entirely different trials, like us, but somewhere else."

Freya's eyes widened as the pieces finally clicked together in her mind.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, nodding slowly as her expression shifted to one of realization.

"Oh... I get it now," she said, her tone thoughtful.

Her gaze darted to Ralph, and then to the other players in the area.

Freya had suspected something like this before, but the old man's words confirmed it.

Yet, she was still puzzled.

How did this explanation connect to the new faces they were now seeing in the Nightmare Realm?

Alex, noticing her confusion, decided to elaborate.

"They probably had a tutorial boss, just like the one that brought us here. The Nightmare Realm seems to act as a hub—linking players from different tutorials into one shared space to play out its sick games."

He turned to the old man, his sharp gaze narrowing.

"Am I right?"

The question hung in the air for a moment.

Ralph's piercing stare remained locked on Alex, his expression unreadable.

Then, with a slow nod, he confirmed Alex's theory.

Even as he acknowledged it, Ralph's mind was working.

Something about this young man didn't sit right with him.

He wasn't like the others here.

His calm confidence was unsettling.

His casual clothing seemed almost out of place in a setting where survival was a constant fight.

It was as if he wasn't taking the trials seriously—yet Ralph could sense power beneath that relaxed demeanor.

But special or not, powerful or not, everyone bled the same.

His hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword.

Alex's sharp eyes caught the movement instantly.

Instead of tensing, his lips curved into a grin.

"But that's not what you came to tell us, is it?"

Alex's voice was calm, but the challenge in his words was unmistakable.

The old man shook his head, his expression grim.

"No, it isn't," he replied.

Freya blinked, confused by his answer.

But before she could ask what he meant, movement in the distance caught her eye. A group of players was approaching, their expressions dark and hostile.

There were at least ten of them, and every one of them had the same look of animosity, their attire similar to that of the old man.

Freya's chest tightened as she realized they were headed straight for her and Alex.

The old man's bitter voice cut through the tension.

"That kid, Dorion," he began, his tone laced with anger. "I heard he's the reason my granddaughter didn't make it to the next trial. She managed to cross the platform... but that lunatic killed her."

Without missing a beat, Alex responded, his voice sharp and cold. "Oh... and how is that our problem? Knowing the kid doesn't mean we're friends."

Ralph's frown deepened, the wrinkles on his face hardening.

"Enemies by association," he growled.

Freya's eyes widened, and she stepped forward, trying to explain.

"Enemies? Wait—no! You've got it wrong. The crazy kid isn't with us!"

Her protest was ignored.

Ralph's gaze stayed locked on Alex, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword.

His voice was steady, but the bitterness in it was undeniable.

"Someone must pay," he declared.

"And it's only fair it's you two."

Freya froze, her heart pounding.

The approaching group spread out behind Ralph, their weapons at the ready. She could feel the weight of their glares, like a storm building around them.

Alex sighed loudly, tilting his head back to look at the sky as if searching for patience.

Freya glanced at him, her voice trembling.

"What do we do?"

Alex wasn't panicking like she was. If anything, he looked annoyed, as if this was more of an inconvenience than a threat.

Finally, he lowered his head, his sharp gaze locking onto Ralph.

"I'll warn you," Alex began, his voice calm but carrying an edge of menace. "I'm not a stranger when it comes to killing."

Ralph smirked, unfazed by the statement.

"Is that so?" he replied, unsheathing his sword with a slow, deliberate motion. The blade gleamed under the dim light, its edge sharp enough to cut air. "Then that makes what I'm about to do a lot less difficult."

Alex's eyes narrowed as they focused on the blade. There was something unsettling about the weapon—its aura felt dangerous, almost alive.

Freya's panic spiked as she fumbled to pull out her own blade.

Her hands trembled, and her voice came out shaky.

"Alex, what do we do? What's the plan?"

Without looking back at her, Alex took a step forward.

"The plan is simple," he said in a low voice. "I'll handle this, and you stay as far away as possible."

Freya blinked, caught off guard.

She hesitated, gripping her blade tightly, her instincts telling her to argue.

But then she remembered the raw power Alex had shown before.

With a reluctant nod, she backed away, her eyes darting nervously between Alex and Ralph.

Ralph's grin widened as he stared Alex down, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Oh, you're quite the arrogant one," he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

Then with a flick of his wrist, he gestured to the group of players behind him.

"Get him."

The men surged forward, weapons drawn, their expressions full of confidence.

Alex, unfazed, muttered under his breath, barely loud enough to hear:

"Petrify."

In an instant, the attackers froze mid-stride, their bodies locking up as if they'd turned to stone.

Their weapons hovered in the air, gripped tightly in hands that could no longer move.

Panic spread across their faces as they tried to force themselves to move, but their limbs wouldn't budge.

Groans of effort and fear escaped their lips as they realized they were completely immobilized.

"What... what is this?" one of them stammered, his voice trembling.

Freya, watching from a safe distance, gasped in awe.

Her eyes darted between the frozen players and Alex, who was standing there as if he hadn't just halted an entire group with a single word.

Ralph's smirk faltered as he took a step back, his hand tightening on his sword hilt.

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of tension crossing his face.

Alex moved forward casually, walking past the frozen attackers.

Each step he took made their hearts pound faster, their eyes widening in terror.

They couldn't move, couldn't defend themselves.

If Alex wanted to, he could kill them where they stood.

Ralph was beginning to come to the conclusion that Alex might be a little too much.

He had suspected the young man was powerful, but this... this was beyond anything he had anticipated.

Alex finally stopped a few feet in front of Ralph, his hands slipping into his pockets.

"I told you I've killed before," Alex began, his voice low and steady. "But even though I've done it, I've never found killing humans...enjoyable."

Ralph's grip on his sword tightened, his gaze locked on Alex as if searching for a weakness.

Alex tilted his head slightly, his eyes sharp and unyielding.

"But," he continued, "I won't hesitate to do it if it's what I need to keep moving forward."

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to an icy whisper.

"So here's your last chance. Back away... or die."