Flip the Coin [BL]-Chapter 300. In the first place

Sucked into the vortex, I was chewed into nothingness, twisted and turned, stripped of my existence until I was pieced back together into awareness and spat out into my body again.

However, I didn’t find myself in the crystalline world, as I thought I would.

I was holding something while standing on solid ground, real grass—a dark landscape made of dirt—not crystals.

Looking around, I found a man standing not far away, and behind him a few houses that looked more like tents.

The man had shorter and thinner hair than me, wearing it pushed back, exposing his face; his skin color was overly light, yet his eyes were as red as fresh blood, exactly like mine. Taller and thinner, he also seemed a bit older than me.

Though I didn’t know the other person, I could recognize the features so identical to mine. Furthermore, given the scenery, it was apparent that I was tangled up inside a memory of the Giant, precisely the one I had just dreamed about.

Fantastic.

My body moved automatically as I used the wooden shovel in my hand to dig into the earth before me.

"There is a custom in their culture." The Giant said, not looking at me but at the hole I was about to dig. His voice sounded familiar and foreign, somewhat stretched, as if he communicated with me through the past.

"What you bury with the dead will accompany them in their afterlife." He continued.

Yeah, some old religions did believe that in my world too.

I pushed the shovel into the ground, then threw the earth behind me.

"That is the reason I am burying the whole village with them, so that they can stay together."

Oh, you sick fucker, just go and die. I managed to turn my head to look at Giant Kenny and really found a hill of corpses not far from him.

Next time, get me something other than a hill of corpses; it’s getting boring.

Fuck, always the same shit is thrown at me.

While I really liked digging a hole for my enemies, I didn’t want to be Giant Kenny’s servant and dig up a grave for his innocent victims.

But my hands moved, involuntarily continuing. I finally noticed that my arms had no tattoos on them, so I knew I was currently inside nothing more than a memory.

Hopefully, this shit would be over soon.

"I had never regretted anything in my life. But that night, for the first time, I felt regret."

Oh, are we making a detour into the human realm after being stuck in the lands of psychopathic murderers?

I continued to dig and dig and dig, deepening the hole, deepening the grave.

"I understood that I wouldn’t be able to continue living the lives of my other selves—after we had become one."

Good for you; it just took a whole village to die for you to get it.

And? Did you stop killing counterparts? You fucking didn’t, did you?

"My mind had been fogged by these vivid feelings Ken had shown me. For the first time since starting my journey, I missed my home; for the first time, I understood what ’home’ really was, together with the solace it brought." His voice sounded like a regretful whisper.

"But the way home was barred with hundreds of worlds in between. I was convinced that I had to continue with my journey, continue to gather my other selves out there to become complete."

I listened involuntarily, rolling my eyes while I dug and dug and dug.

"You couldn’t save your mother." He said, his voice sounding so close as if he spoke directly into my ear while I dug and dug and dug.

I needed a minute to register what he had said.

My head snapped to him, my body freezing in horror.

"What did you just say?" I brought out breathlessly.

He was still standing near the corpse hill, as his eyes eventually found mine for the first time, his gaze bringing a suffocating power with it.

"Even though you could see what the future would bring, you couldn’t save her." He spoke, and that, directly to me.

I broke into a cold sweat, pictures of a gigantic emaciated body, pin-sized pupils, a huge mouth, and teeth as big as houses, together with an endless pharynx, playing in my mind.

"Where did that power come from?" The giant asked me, tilting his head, staring down at me cold and emotionless, like an insect.

"Why did you have this power in the first place?"

I couldn’t answer, couldn’t move, and couldn’t look away from him; instead, I thought of what I had already suspected:

’It came from you.’

"That could be the right answer," he uttered as if he could read my thoughts.

"And now tell me, what did you feel when you were unable to save your mother even though you could have if you only were a little bit more experienced, intelligent, or levelheaded?"

’Regret.’

Regret for telling her about my vision, though I knew she wouldn’t believe me; regret for not jumping out of the window and breaking a leg in addition to my already broken wrist so that she would have to stay with me; regret for ever touching her hand and knowing about what would come; regret that I had this ability in the first place.

"Regret," the giant continued, his stare continuing to burrow into me, dissecting me, taking me apart.

"And now tell me..." he started as my hands suddenly moved, as I suddenly continued to dig and dig and dig, finding myself inside the hole I had dug, looking up at the red eyes above me.

"Where did the regret you experienced come from?" He crouched down beside the hole, looking down on me, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"How were you able to feel ’regret’ in the first place?"

Unable to move, my body froze again before I looked down into the darkness under me as I continued to dig.

"†hêrê w姗" His voice turned far away and sounded more distorted than before.

"†hêrê wå§ å ¢µ§†ðm ïñ †hêïr ¢µl†µrê." Like an old tape that had been heard too often, that had been cut apart before it was haphazardly put together again, the voice continued.

"Whå† ¥ðµ ßµr¥ wï†h †hê ÐêåÐ wïll 墢ðmþåñ¥ †hêm ïñ †hê 壆êr–"

"壆êr–"

"壆êrlï£ê."

I continued to dig and dig and dig, senselessly deepening the hole, unsure whose grave I was digging here.

"Tԋҽ ɾҽαʂσɳ—"

"ɬɧɛ ཞɛąʂơŋ—"

"†hê rêå§ðñ— Ì åm ßµr¥ïñg †hêm †ðgê†hêr." From high-pitched to deep and slow, the tape played unrelentingly into my ears, being directly transmitted into my brain.

"f໐r thē firŞt ti๓ē—rēງrēt." Something heavy was thrown on me, knocking me off my feet. When I looked at it, I found it was a dog with a knife embedded in its eye.

"ı ųŋɖɛཞʂɬơơɖ."

"Ì µñÐêr§†ððÐ."

"ł Ʉ₦ĐɆⱤ₴₮ØØĐ."

I couldn’t turn away from the dead dog when I was met by something else; I felt the impact of more corpses hitting my body, burying me in the hole.

I tried to dive back to the surface, touching the wet and bloody fur of over a dozen dead dogs, screaming in fear and agony while tasting earth and death on my tongue.

"Whå† ¥ðµ ßµr¥ wï†h †hê ÐêåÐ wïll 墢ðmþåñ¥ †hêm ïñ †hê 壆êrlï£ê."

More dead dogs crashed into me, and even through their torsos and their cold and stiff limbs, I could still perceive the gaze of the red pin-sized pupils watching me squirm, watching me suffocate, watching me die in the grave I had dug for myself.

"Wh¥ ÐïÐ ¥ðµ håvê †hï§ þðwêr ïñ †hê £ïr§† þlå¢ê?"

"Hðw wêrê ¥ðµ åßlê †ð £êêl rêgrê† ïñ †hê £ïr§† þlå¢ê?"

"†hå† ¢ðµlÐ ßê †hê åñ§wêr."