Role Playing the Dark Horse Character

Chapter 90: Error

Time passed.

Black smoke shrouded the sky, black crows circling above.

“Lin Ruye is heading toward District 13!” An Heyu’s voice came through the phone, slightly distorted. “Heige, there are four S-rank ability users in District 13. Too many opponents—it’s dangerous!”

In the fierce wind, Li Li lowered her eyes, smiling as she stepped over a corpse at her feet.

Her tone was light. “There aren’t four opponents.”

Her narrowed eyes revealed a flicker of surging red.

She looked up, as if seeing through the thick smoke of explosions and debris to a place she had once visited.

That tenement, half-collapsed.

With a wave of her hand, crows appeared in the sky, spreading their wings and soaring.

“That little dog is quite ferocious,” she raised an eyebrow slightly, saying slowly, “but I only have one opponent.”

At the end of her gaze, a white-haired boy stood beneath the half-collapsed tenement, baring his fangs at intruders like a vicious dog.

His hair was disheveled, the tips of his white strands stained with blood’s red.

A deep, bone-revealing wound ran along the side of his black puff-sleeve dress, yet no blood stained the rabbit plush he cherished so dearly.

That white plush remained as pristine as ever, its smiling face sewn with red thread, calm and serene.

But the boy holding it had a face twisted with ferocity.

His once pure and beautiful golden and blue eyes now radiated frenzied hatred.

He was like a dog guarding its food, desperately trying to drive off enemies reaching for his “meal.”

No matter if he faced two S-rank ability users or thousands upon thousands, he wouldn’t take a single step back.

“I underestimated you,” said an orange-haired middle-aged man who bore some resemblance to Lin Ran.

He was Lin Ran’s younger brother, Lin Ruye’s uncle.

He and another brother had entered District 13 together.

The two S-ranks pinpointed Dan’s weakness—his lack of physical combat skill—and launched a surprise attack.

But this concept-type ability user fought like a madman, heedless of his injuries, turning the tables in a disadvantaged start with sheer ruthlessness, killing an S-rank ability user of the same level.

As if he felt no pain, treating himself like a puppet that could be torn apart at will.

“…It’s already taking effect,” the orange-haired man said something vague, then, supporting his now-severed right arm, took two steps forward, looking down at Dan.

His steps were slow, for he too was at his limit.

The middle-aged man’s voice was deep, weakened by injury. “Glaring at me won’t help. You just happened to be in the way.”

“Ruye’s in a bad mood. He needs to do something to vent his emotions,” the uncle sighed. “With big sister gone, no one can stop him now.”

Last night, Lin Ran died unexpectedly.

Lin Ruye stood outside that door, looking at his mother’s corpse, the candlelight flickering in his purple eyes, as if he’d turned into a skeleton.

But he acted eerily calm, only saying, “She’s finally dead.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Dan said, pale-faced, back arched, baring sharp fangs.

“You’re already at your limit,” the orange-haired man looked at him as if he were a child. “From that fight, I’ve figured out the limits of your ability.

You can endlessly command and modify non-human creatures or objects, but against us, at the same rank, you can only attack indirectly.”

“Unless that person is genuinely regretful,” he turned his head, glancing at his brother’s corpse.

Concept-type abilities were strange and unpredictable.

Until their limits were understood, no one knew what they could do or how far they could go.

But once they were figured out, in a same-rank scenario, advantages and disadvantages flipped instantly.

Dan didn’t care what this intruder in his territory was saying.

He only wanted to tear this man apart, make him die here.

Dan opened his mouth. “Correction.”

His ability activated.

“The man before me, missing his right hand, should be torn to pieces!” he declared.

The fierce wind lifted his disheveled white hair, revealing the ferocious eyes beneath his forehead.

At the same time, the orange-haired man moved.

Looking at his brother’s corpse, he sighed, a faint, sorrowful smile crossing his face.

“All I did was regret.”

His purple gaze seemed to pierce through the air, recalling the past.

The days when the three siblings still lived in Floating City.

The next instant, his body burst apart, just as Dan had said.

Blood mist spread.

Dan shielded the rabbit plush, keeping it pristine.

He didn’t care whether he was dirty or not; his entire focus was on his rabbit plushie.

Just then, something unexpected happened.

Before the blood mist had fully dissipated, Dan’s movements suddenly froze.

His fingertips trembled, and blood dripped from his matted, stringy white hair.

He straightened his back, exposing the white rabbit plushie to the air.

Red blood beads rolled down, staining the rabbit’s smiling lips.

The white had been tainted with filth.

Dan’s pupils quivered.

He saw someone approaching through the blood mist.

“You killed my last blood relative.”

The orange-haired youth’s purple pupils seemed to glow faintly.

He strolled through the dull, gray sky, his expression calm.

Lin Ruye had arrived.

He stood outside the blood mist, watching Dan’s reluctant yet compelled gesture of holding out the rabbit plushie.

Then, under his gaze, the white-haired boy opened his mouth.

A sentence came out haltingly from his lips.

“The building behind me should collapse entirely, just like the other half.”

Instantly, his pupils contracted sharply.

Those weren’t the words he meant to say! He wanted to turn back, but after initial resistance, Lin Ruye forced him to turn his head.

“Boom!”

It was a sound that filled him with despair.

Dust billowed, and in the center, the building collapsed inch by inch right before his eyes.

Old glass windows shattered, the railings he often brushed past snapped in half, the ivy-covered walls cracked and sank, finally disappearing into the dust.

Dan’s eyes were bloodshot with rage.

Lin Ruye, however, seemed amused.

He deliberately manipulated Dan to make him watch the entire process, forcing him to see the tenement he desperately wanted to protect vanish.

Only then did he speak slowly, with a touch of arrogance: “I’m not like you, always blabbing about my ability’s name. But today, before you die, I’ll grant your wish to exchange ability names and tell you mine.”

He glanced at Dan’s wounded waist, the initial injury Dan had ignored, and said slowly, “Ability, Curse of Voodoo.”

Concept-type abilities were unpredictable and varied, and his opponent was an S-rank ability user with multiple concept-type abilities.

From the start, Lin Ruye had asked his uncle to help him meet the conditions for activating his ability.

Now, he had complete control over Dan—his body and his ability.

Just as the orange-haired man had said before dying, the ability had already taken effect back then, only activating after the orange-haired man’s death.

A mere few seconds’ difference.

“Dan, you know, I really hate you,” the orange-haired youth suddenly said amidst the dust kicked up by the collapsing building.

He looked at the white-haired boy’s broken expression, as if suddenly filled with an urge to express himself, or perhaps just wanting to vent his unresolved emotions through words.

“Always going on about ‘Mommy, Mommy,’ like some unweaned brat.

Do you still need your diaper changed?” Lin Ruye sneered mockingly.

His audience could only listen helplessly, able to do nothing but glare at him fiercely with those heterochromatic eyes.

This reaction clearly delighted Lin Ruye.

He laughed for a bit, then his face turned cold.

“Why?” he murmured softly. “Why do you get the love I can never have? Why does a lowly consumable like you get a good mother? Why did she never treat me like her son?”

He seemed to be recalling something, the memory of a woman with long orange hair, always facing away from him.

Sitting quietly at home, poised and elegant, revered by everyone in the family—his mother.

“Always high and mighty, talking about her order, never once showing me a smile. She didn’t care about me, never asked what I wanted or why I made mistakes. I was wrong to take someone else’s gem, but I only thought the purple would suit her, wanted to make her a bracelet!” Lin Ruye’s words sped up, his face twisting into an expression that was both crying and laughing. “I was only four years old. I just wanted to tell her I admired her, that I… loved her.”

This was no longer a narrative; he was merely venting his emotions, speaking the truths he’d never voiced.

Perhaps because that person was already dead, or perhaps because he only wanted to mock the person he despised.

Or maybe because he could only bare his heart to these people, those unrelated to his family.

“Hahaha, I’m such a joke, foolishly trying to get close, only to be met with her cold, icy stare.” He lowered his head, letting his bangs cover his eyes. “What am I? Just a pile of disobedient flesh.”

His shoulders shook, indistinguishable between laughter and tears.

But his audience didn’t understand what he was saying and had no interest in understanding. Dan only wanted to tear the person before him apart.

His eyes could only see his home, destroyed once before, now collapsing again, completely ruined.

He only cared about his home, the home he could never return to.

Lin Ruye lifted his head again, revealing his familiar mocking smile.

“Dan, I’m so jealous of you, but it doesn’t matter. You’re not much better off.” He laughed so hard he trembled.

“Your so-called ‘Mommy’ died long ago. No matter how hard you try, you can’t bring her back.” Lin Ruye watched the growing hatred in Dan’s eyes, laughing gleefully.

He drew satisfaction from Dan’s expression, raising his voice as if proclaiming, “And you’re the one who killed her.”

Dan’s body trembled.

Unable to break free from Lin Ruye’s control, the only part he could move was his heterochromatic pupils.

At that moment, those pupils seemed to see the most terrifying monster.

Yet he clearly wasn’t looking at anyone.

“There’s no such thing as resurrection. The moment you turned your mom into an inanimate object, you killed her with your own hands.” Lin Ruye watched Dan’s reaction, as if fueled by an endless source of pleasure. He emphasized “with your own hands,” savoring the pained look of the person he envied.

“Error Correction, what a great name,” he said with a smile. “Your mom must regret giving birth to a monster like you. Your very existence is a mistake.”

Dan saw the monster, and it was himself.

With those heterochromatic pupils, different from others, eerie in color, utterly unlike his mother’s eyes.

From the very beginning, he was a monster.

A mistake that should not exist.