Flip the Coin [BL]-Chapter 253. Seam

Why are these crystals arranged as if to rebuild a beautiful scene from our world?

As if someone took their time, placing them together: the brown for the earth, the green on top of it, and the colorful crystals naturally used for the flowers.

And what about the milky white ones?

They had to go to these figures, to this one figure that stands in front of me.

Conjuring up the hammer from the Commander-World, I attacked it.

The figure’s hand grew in the blink of an eye, as if the crystals from its arm fell out, forming a hammer-like hand, as if it contained an unlimited number of crystals, extending its body to whatever variations possible.

I swung the hammer, and the moment before it struck its head, I ducked from the incoming hammer-hand as it mirrored my attack.

Yet when I ducked, what could it do when it constantly mirrored me?

No matter how fast I moved, it did the same, rendering every attack meaningless.

I teleported a few steps back and saw that instead of teleporting, it just moved speedily to me, taking the steps I had omitted.

At least I could teleport away, far away, but with the speed it moved, it would find me sooner or later.

Finally, I thought of the way Henry and I had dealt with the shadows, and since I knew this was a dream, I decided to test it.

Conjuring up a gun, I put it to my temple.

Yet, instead of mirroring me, the figure did the opposite, pointing a gun at me.

This time, the dream ended with two bullets piercing my skull—one fired by myself and the other made of tiny crystals.

**************

I snapped my eyes open, grabbing my forehead, where I had been shot out of instinct.

What the fuck? So now it was clear: these things could act in two ways. One was to mirror their counterpart’s action; the other was to do the exact opposite.

If it were like this, wouldn’t just lying on the ground do the trick? If the figure did the same, it would just lie down. If it did the opposite, it would just remain standing or jump in the air or something.

Hearing the shower running, it seemed Henry was in the bathroom.

I stepped out of bed to clothe myself, noting that I was butt naked.

In the bed was the long towel I had put on myself yesterday, all crumpled up.

Well, the fact that my ankle monitor wasn’t on me anymore should be on camera by now, along with my private parts and everything.

I glared at the camera and snatched the towel to cover myself until I reached the closet, though there was no reason to be shy anymore. After changing, I lazed on the bed and thought about how to resolve the ankle monitor issue.

First, when I saw how Dr. Carell had dissected Henry, I wanted to gut him, and my intent was to do just that. Yet, when I teleported to him, realizing that he was clearly inside a military facility, only the matter of erasing his existence remained.

However, I also didn’t want to leave them a body—any kind of evidence they could use against me—so a broken neck was the best way to avoid spilling any blood. Additionally, his body shouldn’t get discovered; I even made sure that he had no tracker on him before closing his grave.

Forever buried in a desert... from the celebrity status he had in his own world to being forgotten by everyone in a world he thought was only inhabited by corrupted humans. And not a bit of evidence could link it to me.

Not so bad, still very lenient, but not as bad. As for making him suffer, Henry had already done that by using his power on that fucker.

Anyway, Henry took care of the vengeance, and I threw the trash away—which was good teamwork, I’d say.

I sat on my bed and conjured up the pink silk paper, continuing to rip it in two. I had already done that a few hundred times yesterday, and if the psychologist was right, at some point we would find the original paper ripped as well.

Which would mean the following: I wasn’t replicating things I conjured up; instead, I was really pulling them from the window of the past—or at least a layer of them—and when these objects disappeared back to where they belonged, they would melt back with the original.

The question of why Henry’s scars remained on him so vividly still remained.

"Awake?" Henry asked with a bright smile after coming out of the bathroom. He wore only a towel, the ankle monitor, his blue bracelet, and the collar, looking unbelievably sensual in that getup.

"Awake and clothed." I said, ripping my gaze back to the pink paper in my hands and continuing my task.

"Good. I am really sorry for destroying your ankle monitor yesterday." He walked to the closet, letting the towel fall in the moment I looked up.

I stopped myself from asking questions, seeing that he had done something to cover the incident for me.

This was also why I needed Dr. Carell to disappear instead of just dying and leaving a corpse behind. If my ankle monitor lost connection at the time of his death, they would know sooner or later about my ability to teleport; now they were left only with questions about his disappearance.

"That’s okay."

Henry turned and chuckled while putting on his white shirt.

The heavy metal door opened, and Dr. Thompson entered, holding a white package.

"What happened?" His eyes found me lazing on my bed and my empty ankle.

We had just been talking about it, and here it was.

"We had a scuffle in the bathroom, and I broke his monitor." Henry answered leisurely, walking to the bathroom and coming back with a pile of ashes, which he stuffed into Dr. Thompson’s free hand.

"Haaa...." The middle-aged man sighed deeply, his apparent concern about Henry and what he was capable of visible.

"I have a new model here." He said.

"Does this one also draw blood?" Henry asked.

"Because we weren’t informed about this."

"...It does," Dr. Thompson answered.

"Then get him another one without that function." Henry commanded in a badass style, and Dr. Thompson stood there for a full minute trying to swallow a tantrum before turning around and leaving.

"Pfft."

"Funny?" Henry’s eyes found me when we were alone again.

"Yeah, your ability is a really nice gadget to have." I nodded, ripping my pink paper. Wasn’t there some white paper or a black one? Why pink?

"I have other nice gadgets as well." Henry said.

I furrowed my eyebrows; was this fucker flirting with me? Or worse, was he making a dirty joke?

He pointed at his necklace. "Look."

"Calling your collar a gadget won’t save you from a beating if you get cocky."

"Can my handsomeness save me?" He pointed a story higher to his face, and I broke into laughter.

"Maybe..."

The door opened again, but it wasn’t Dr. Thompson standing there; it was Dr. Lawrence.

Her blond hair was in a messy bun, and she looked as if she hadn’t slept much. "Come with me, you two." She said.

I was forced to stand up as she led us to the room we had been in yesterday.

Yet instead of just one table, there was another long one placed in the room, with different samples lying on it. Every kind of stone, among them marble, every kind of metal, iron, etc.

This seemed to be for Henry, for testing his ability.

"We’ll come to that later... Now, look at this." She took a seat at the same table she had sat at yesterday, a laptop in front of her.

Henry and I also sat down across from her, and I was getting curious about what she had found out.

"Here." She reached into her pocket and took out the original silk paper.

I took it, noticing that she had laminated it. I found no difference other than that.

"Hold it against the light."

I raised my head and held the silk paper against the light, seeing a slight seam where I had ripped it a few hundred times.

Although I had anticipated it, seeing it myself was something else.

"Cool."