5 The Spirit of Vendetta
Meanwhile, over in Budapest, Edmund found himself engrossed in books at the library. He devoured them, effortlessly soaking up the content within, much like a sponge.
Within his thoughts, both deep and on the surface, libidinal preoccupations, lustful distractions invaded and lingered... He was in need of a release. Yet, that didn't stop him from studying. His learning ability had dramatically improved.
It had surpassed human comprehension and gone far beyond.
He had slightly underestimated Tobirama's and Orochimaru's capacities for understanding and remembering... In fact, in terms of learning speed, Tobirama was even more disconcerting than the skin-shedding snake.
It was probably this exceptional memory ability that made it impossible for him to unreservedly put aside grudges. Every detail of the Uchiha's bloody deeds against the Senju remained vivid in his mind.
He was naturally blessed with the spirit of Vendetta!
Since his brain underwent the change, Edmund felt like from now on he could remember every single moment, single event of his life. In a couple of years, people could quiz him about his daily dinner choices, and he would vividly, accurately recall each one.
'Is this what it's like to be a genius? This sensation transcends the grasp of regular human beings, no wonder those geniuses have grown bored…' Edmund was shocked.
He hung out in the library for a few extra hours until it closed, then made his way to a bar in the wee hours of the night. He had a long-time acquaintance, a connection he made from his orphanage days, who was collaborating with him in earning money at that place.
Edmund wasn't earning much, and the income he had wasn't obtained legally. With his small world, he was taking advantage of the criminal justice system out there. In the streets, there had never been police officers who discovered him with goods on him.
How would they manage to apprehend him with merchandise? Even if someone attempted to frame him, Edmund could easily make the evidence disappear.
Planting things on him or stealing from him was not going to lead to a successful result. The main and only reason that his earnings were low was due to his cautious nature and keenness to avoid getting caught up in dangerous drug conflicts.
Edmund had been simply trying to sustain himself for a ten-year period, patiently waiting for the system to put an end to its laziness.
After completing his "rounds" in the dark corners, the maze-like streets of this Budapest part of town, hours later, as the early morning light encroached and the sun was about to rise, Edmund took a subway home. With the new cash he had earned, tucked away in his small world. Everything he planned to retain and everything he intended to give to his mysterious supervisor were kept there for safekeeping.
Tomorrow night, he was scheduling to go and hand it over to his contact in the bar. He had to deliver it… He preferred not to carry this owed, troublesome cash for too long, even though he was well aware that like the products, it was never going to be stolen from him.
Edmund lived on the top floor. Upon returning to his shabby digs, preparing to kick back with a meal and then sleep until the afternoon, the new 25-year-old sensed that something was amiss… Very, very amiss.
Someone, something, was behind him. He could just tell for some reason.
Just a few days had passed since his birthday, and even though he knew death was bound to occur considering his path, he never expected to feel its presence looming so closely and suddenly after returning home.
"Hold still..." Edmund sensed a sudden sharp pull tightening around his throat as the words echoed in his ear. While the words were not pleasant or appealing, the delivery was. It was the voice of a woman.
A gentle, yet firm grip around his neck stopped him from making any sudden movements. He didn't even have a chance to speak before someone walked out from another corner of the living room and strolled into the kitchen with gentle steps.
It was as if that one person had dominion, ownership, over his home.
One area of the kitchen was illuminated by sunlight, that person chose to remain in the shadows, casting an aloof, disdainful gaze down at the seated Edmund before speaking.
"Who are you, how did you approach us, and what the fucking hell is the purpose of this crappy diary? Are the statements that you make in it accurate?"
She raised her voice in a composed kind of way, yet Edmund sensed her simmering tension. As she talked, she gestured with her hand as if to point something out to Edmund. He couldn't see anything inside that hand, though.
Aside from this peculiar action, the crucial point was that Edmund knew her identity... He had recognized who she was instantly.
In a state of intense shock, fear, and speculation, his mind continued to function, leading him to analyze her words internally and arrive at a startling realization.
If this was this trope though… There was a gigantic problem right now!
A huge dilemma!
'System, what in the world is happening?! When did you provide me with a diary cheat without checking if I wanted it?'
Edmund, being quite sharp now, quickly figured out and wrestled with the root of the problem in his mind.
He was even more shocked to find out that this diary didn't even provide protection for him, the writer of it!
No wonder, no wonder…
It was no wonder that the system would give him something like Pure World Reincarnation!
The system reassured him humbly and without reproach:
[Host, relax, you need not fear death anymore; in fact, you must die immediately to get the full control of the diary cheat; this is your chance to do so without further delay. Rather than ensnare you, the early publication of the diary was intended to help you in reaching a decision.]
'Help?! What kind of shitty help is this?! Screw you, bastard!'
Edmund grumbled internally but refrained from tattling... He managed to surprise even himself with his new willpower. As the excruciating torture began, Selene's expression turned into a deep scowl.
She solemnly glimpsed the man losing increasing amounts of blood, a wicked smile playing on his lips… She was extremely guarded, curious as to what he was contemplating, but that diary was not being updated this time.
She wondered how the mechanics of it worked.
