Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 79: Ch77. Pain as a teacher

Chapter 79: Ch77. Pain as a teacher

All Diego knew by then was pain.

Shinji was not kidding when he said that Diego was not going to be able to use any of his healing skills, having to rely solely on his captor for keeping him just an inch away from dying.

But it had taught him something.

The first few times Shinji had hurt him, Diego had tried to push through it, biting down on his screams, forcing himself to focus his thoughts on Miles, on how his big brother had always stood strong, on how he never broke. But now, he felt like he had passed the point of no return.

He was slipping away.

"What is Wonderland?" Shinji would ask, and Diego would answer with a simple "Fuck you" or with nothing but silence.

But then, Shinji would heal him, Diego would feel the sudden relief of his most grievous wounds being soothed by the healing magic – his healing magic – only for the pain to start all over again.

Each time, the threshold of his suffering expanded. It was a relentless cycle, designed to break him piece by piece, both in his body and in his mind. And Diego was losing.

He was chained to a chair, wrists bound in steel cuffs, his head drooping forward as sweat and blood dripped down his face riddled with the smallest cuts and gashes. His body felt like a mass of bruises, every nerve screaming in agony. His lungs burned from the sheer effort of keeping himself conscious.

Shinji crouched in front of him, his ever-calm, ever-smiling face hovering just inches away.

"The more we keep at it, the more you surprise me," Shinji mused, tilting his head as if studying an interesting experiment. "Who would’ve thought that a simple kid, even though said kid is a player, can endure this much pain and suffering... But it’s always the same in the end. You know that, right?"

"Go... to hell..." Diego tried to glare, but his swollen eye barely opened. His voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Now, now. No need to be rude. I’ve been nothing but patient with you." Shinji chuckled, standing up and stretching lazily as if he were just another bored passerby rather than a torturer.

His katana flicked out in a single fluid motion, the cold steel pressing against Diego’s arm.

"Just tell me what I want to know, and this all ends."

Diego swallowed hard, his body instinctively flinching. He knew what was coming.

He knew that no matter how much he fought it, every time the blade of Shinji’s katana touched him, it would have a different effect, and his mind was fraying from it. His thoughts were scattered, swimming in the fog of exhaustion and trauma.

What is Wonderland?

Shinji had asked him that question a hundred times now, but Diego had no answer that would satisfy him. Nor was he even entertaining the idea of trying to satisfy Shinji, even if only to end the suffering.

But he could feel himself slipping.

’Just for a couple of seconds, no?’

Another slash. Another wound. Another wave of searing pain. Diego let out a strangled gasp, biting down on his lip so hard that he tasted more blood.

Then, the warmth of healing magic seeped into his flesh, sealing the gashes like they had never existed. His body knit itself back together, only for Shinji’s blade to carve into him again. This time, freezing it almost to the point of breaking his arm off.

Torture.

Healing.

Torture again.

How many cycles had it been? Diego didn’t know anymore.

He wanted to hold on. He wanted to keep fighting. But his will was breaking, and for the first time, he felt the words creeping up his throat. He could give in. Just a little.

’Just enough to make the pain stop. Just a hint, just a clue-’

He opened his mouth. A whisper of breath escaped him.

"You know... That healing magic... It taught me... Something..." But before he could finish, something shifted in the air. The room trembled ever so slightly. A shiver crawled up Diego’s spine, his body instinctively reacting before his mind could catch up.

He knew that something was coming even before Shinji frowned.

***

Miles stalked through the ruined streets, his mind churning with the weight of what he had learned.

Sarissa had been still when he told her what he saw, her expression unreadable. But beneath the mask of calm, he had caught it. A flicker of something deeper, something she wasn’t saying.

"Shinji’s not acting alone." Miles had told her, his voice tight with certainty. "He made a pact with something... Something more powerful than anything we have faced until now."

She had gone quiet at that, too quiet.

"Something you’ve never seen before?" She had asked, her tone unreadable.

"Something we’ve never seen before."

Miles had encountered monsters of all known ranks until now. Creatures, Beasts, and Monsters. But this was different.

The memory of the feeling that Shinji had just by looking at the thing’s eyes... It wasn’t just raw power or mindless hunger.

This was something intelligent, cold, and calculating. And that made it far more dangerous.

"He’s the leader of an entire guild..." Sarissa had murmured, her gaze distant. "And if his guild is involved in this... Then it might be bigger than just Diego being kidnapped."

"A war between guilds...?" That thought had haunted Miles ever since.

Now, he moved through the crumbling remnants of the district, his senses sharp, his grip firm on the [Harbinger’s Scythe]. The knowledge he had stolen from Shinji’s wraith guiding him here, to this seemingly unremarkable ruin.

It looked like nothing more than an abandoned house, another casualty of the Glitch’s descent. But as Miles stepped inside, he felt it immediately.

Wrong.

The air was dense and unnatural. The silence wasn’t just emptiness.

It was waiting.

Miles’ fingers twitched, his grip tightening around the scythe’s shaft as he moved forward. Dust crunched beneath his boots as he stepped through the broken remains of what had once been a living room. Furniture lay scattered in decay, the walls cracked and weathered.

Then he saw it, unassuming on the cracked wooden floor. A trapdoor.

Miles crouched, running his fingers along the edges. It was reinforced, not just with metal hinges and thicker wooden planks, but with magic.

His skin tingled with the presence of a barrier, something like a ward designed to keep intruders out.

A slow, humorless smile curled his lips upward as he summoned [Ender’s Mask] again.

’It can keep anyone out, but not me...’

He slammed the butt of his scythe against the trapdoor with a sharp crack. The impact sent a ripple of black energy crawling along its surface before shattering it completely. The wood splintered as the door burst open, revealing a dark descent below.

Miles stepped forward, his heart pounding. He had been ready for whatever lay beneath.

But when his eyes adjusted to the dim light, his breath caught in his throat as shock twisted his features at the sight before him.