Gacha System: Reborn In The Hardest World
Chapter 45: Harmony of a Hunter

Chapter 45: Harmony of a Hunter

["When was it that I abandoned my life’s passion and took up such a saddening job?"]

Upon a stage in front of a theater of spectators, ranging from powerful merchants to influential noblemen, the man with skin as pale as snow and eyes that had not seen rest sat before the grandiose instrument.

He ran his slender fingers over the many keys as though fondly touching somebody precious to him.

["The piano. An instrument brought into this world not by the ingenuity of our own inventors, but a gift from an Outlander. Sometimes, it saddens me to think about it. That the people we hunt once gave us such beautiful gifts."]

The crowds of hundreds were drowned out; it was just him and the keys, to which he tapped with his fingers. He didn’t look upon any notes, only pressing each of the ivories at his own tune.

["...I tirelessly trained for decades. I mastered the piano; this was my greatest performance. In my hometown of Lucid, it wasn’t a large city within Mastorn, but I managed to attract many powerful figures from across the world to attend my concert.

I had nobody else. Not a family member, not a significant other, no friends but the instrument I played. It was all I had, and I gave it my all."]

As he guided his fingers over each key, playing the symphony that came from his soul, he drifted off into his own world. Nothing could harm him; nothing else mattered in that moment.

["For some reason, that day, I played the piano with an intensity I never have before. Each press of the key filled my soul with gratification. The tune resonated through me like a lover’s whisper."]

He played the song out into its completion, gasping out as he struck the final keys as the piano sang its gentle goodbye. As he sat there, drawing out the last melody, he found himself dripping in sweat, gasping for air as if having just performed a marathon.

Picking himself up from the seat, he bowed, awaiting the applause–but none came.

It was completely silent; there wasn’t so much as a single clap, or a heckle in the opposite manner.

["At first, I believed they may have hated my performance. No, I gave my entire soul for it. That deafening silence, filled only by my desperate breaths for but a single cue. They were silenced by my performance, for eternity–that is the day my innate ability awakened."]

As he straightened himself out, he saw the lifelessness in the eyes of the audience; their opened mouths, their breathless bodies, growing paler by the moment. All he could do was bow again, dipping his head in the suffocating silence.

"I dedicate this performance to all of you. Thank you for listening, until your very end..."

["Though I didn’t quite understand how it transpired, I knew it was my doing, even if unintentionally. I accepted the fact I would face execution, assuredly..."]

In the gallows, he was placed on his knees, though there was no crowd to witness a blade befalling his neck. He sat there in the place countless others had been faced with lethal justice; the scent of blood filled the grimy, stone platform.

["I kept my head down and closed my eyes. I didn’t fight it. Giving my all in my performance, having so many listen to it...I was satisfied with the life I led. At least, I believed I was."]

As a cold air crept over his neck, hearing the heavy stomps of the executioner beside him as the massive blade was raised in the air, he welcomed it. He waited, shutting his eyes as the scent of damp stone and blood filled his nose.

Any moment, he waited for the end to come before–

The sound of something hitting the ground filled his ears, then another, then another. He opened his eyes, looking down at the pale, gray stone as droplets of rain pelted it. As he lifted his head, he watched the crows in the air drifting downward, crashing upon the ground beside the bodies of the men who oversaw his execution.

Again, that overwhelming silence–nothing remained of life.

["Am I...a harbinger of death? Am I cursed with this evil presence, bringing all those around me to die?"]

Until the sun set and until it rose again, he did not move from the spot, sitting there on his knees for his end to come. If it wasn’t a blade that could deliver him justice, perhaps simply waiting for his body to starve if that’s what it took.

As he waited for that inevitable end, he listened to the melodies of his piano, engraved into his mind, recalling each sheet he played before–

The sound of a step ascending the platform snapped him out of his kind dreams.

"Please, leave...If you remain near me, you will die, like the rest...Allow me to wait here until I am met with the fate I deserve," Amadeus weakly urged.

The soft footsteps stopped before him, followed by a voice as gentle as the still wind, "Is death truly what you wish for? If that’s what you want, I can grant you that comfort. However, I would ask that you reconsider."

Amadeus sat there in silence, hanging his head before answering, "There is no merit to my life. So long as I live, all I will do is bring death."

"I don’t believe you wish to die, do you? Deep down, you want to live–that’s why you defended yourself here, right?" The stranger asked.

It wasn’t something the pianist considered as he lifted his head, unable to process it, "I...want to live?"

"There is a way you can turn that curse into a gift," the stranger told him, kneeling before him with an extended hand. "I can show you. If you’d take my hand, you can better this world with that gift of yours."

["Ah, yes...I remember. That day, he saved me–that was the day I became a Venator. Still, why is there so much I don’t remember? All I can call upon in my memories is fog, a haze as though years of my life are left void."]

–

"Summon: Skill!" Gael shouted.

Tearing the hunter from his thoughts, he yelled out as the fluctuating lights of endless possibilities shined through the mines.

[Permanent Skill Summoning Initiated.]

Every moment felt like an eternity waiting for the process to finish. The hunter dashed passed him as if gliding across ice, dragging along the sharpness of his blade.

On the tips of his toes, he forced pushed off, forcing himself out of the path of the Venator’s cutting edge.

"Ffffuuu—"

Gael expelled the hard-fought breath; it was a multitasking effort, controlling his own lungs while facing the hunter.

His senses were dialed to eleven; each shift in air, slight enough to brush a single hair on his body, was felt.

The Venator ran his glove over his lengthy edge, performing an aria from his gut as he sang the song of death.

A harrowing, black force clad itself to Amadeus’ blade, as he swung it, the deathly aura lashed out. As each of the slashes that ignored range passed, Gael felt the chilling properties of the black mana—

Even if it missed, he felt it clearly; it made his hair stand and goosebumps run over his skin.

’This is dark magic, isn’t it—? I just know if it touches me, it’s bad news,’ he observed.

[Skill Permanently Obtained: (R) "Enhanced Sight"]

Through his body, the new ability engraved itself into his cells, triggering it as he focused his own retina like a mechanical organ. Through his activated vision, everything appeared black-and-white, except for his enemy, who was bright orange as if marked as a heat signature.

He watched Amadeus swing his blade again, this time perceiving it much easier. As the slash of darkness swept through the mines, hissing towards his body, he saw it clearly.

Slipping to the side, he usually maneuvered around the skin-crawling darkness, dashing towards the hunter as he countered with his dagger.

"Temporary Summon: Skill!" Gael shouted while moving his blade.

"Are you that desperate to find something capable of helping you overcome me? How tragic," Amadeus claimed, clashing blades with the Outlander.

[Temporary Skill Summoning Initiated.]

As their blades met, he watched the man in the fluffy, black cloak spin around like a ballerina, weaving an abundant shroud of shadows into his blade. Everything in his body told him to defend against it, with everything he had.

Pushing his body’s strength to its max output, he placed his dagger in the path of the Venator’s dark blade–FWOOSH. The impact rang through the marrow of his bones, tasting the ringing in his mouth as his boots slid back.

"You can’t call upon your precious familiars. They don’t have the same defense against my ability as you do," Amadeus calmly deduced, weaving through the strikes. "--That just leaves you, summoner. Oh, would you please just accept your execution?"