Leveling Up by Executing Monsters

Chapter 135: Chapter 135: The Rooftop is Cold at Night

"Where is the holder of the Book of Truth?"

The moment the courtesan asked the question, the air in the room solidified, becoming almost tangible, as if the entire world had frozen in place.

Then, the body of the client beside her was instantly flattened by an invisible force, violently twisted into a corkscrew, and finally burst apart, scattering like shredded paper.

But not a single drop of blood was spilled...

Not even a single fragment managed to hit the floor. While the pieces of tissue were still airborne, they were twisted into even smaller corkscrews, then crumbled to dust and dissipated into the air.

As for the courtesan, she, too, felt an irresistible, formless power descend upon her in that same instant.

She—or rather, he—did not choose to resist. Instead, he spread his arms as if to accept and embrace it all.

The next second, his entire body shattered, becoming like the broken mirror at his feet.

No one knew what result his Divination had yielded. Perhaps this tragic end was the result itself.

However, amidst the mass of fragmented flesh and blood, something was quietly wriggling...

It was a few nematodes, each as fine as a capillary.

Though torn into several pieces by the force that had purged the room, they remained active. They wriggled toward each other, gradually fused, and finally reformed into a single, slender, blood-red nematode.

It squirmed across the blood-soaked carpet and slipped into the room’s drain.

The luxurious suite finally fell silent, but the solidified air and the lingering, formless power still roiled throughout the space.

Until a waiter knocked on the door and asked:

"Sir? Your wife is waiting for you in the lobby..."

There was no response from the room. The waiter waited patiently for a moment, then knocked again.

"Sir?"

Then, he boldly pushed the door open.

The next second, his form began to Twist, his skin began to burn, and his limbs started changing into those of a Demon.

He couldn’t even let out a scream before a series of muffled, low-pitched ramblings escaped his throat.

In a mere instant, an innocent, ordinary person had descended into madness and mutated into a terrifying Demon.

.........

"Try this."

Weiya pushed a piece of pan-fried fish, golden and crispy and cut into a neat square, in front of Lloyd.

It was now after work hours. Lloyd was under orders not to go home, and Weiya was ordered to accompany him. The two were in a luxury suite on the 8th floor, eating the dinner Weiya had brought.

The room actually had a proper dining table—one of those long, narrow ones that could seat many people—but the two had tacitly chosen to sit on the sofa and eat off the coffee table instead.

Perhaps it was because this way they could sit shoulder-to-shoulder, very close. Or perhaps it was because the dining table felt too formal, lacking a certain casual warmth.

"Mmm! This is delicious!"

Lloyd took a bite of the fish, nodding repeatedly. He then asked:

"I didn’t think the cafeteria had food this good."

Even though Weiya was sitting right beside him, the moment he tasted the delicious food, his first thought was ’I should bring some back for my sister to try...’

Weiya smiled gently and replied:

"It’s not from the cafeteria. I went out and bought it in the small town outside."

As she spoke, she lowered her head slightly and pushed a ham sandwich in front of Lloyd. Her voice unconsciously softened as she said quietly:

"This one... I also bought it in town. Why don’t you try it?"

Lloyd nodded, picked it up, and took a bite.

’Lettuce, tomato, onion, and ham...’

"This one is way off. The combination of ingredients is all wrong, and the texture lacks complexity. It seems that chef isn’t even as skilled as I am."

Lloyd gave his honest assessment.

"Oh? Is that so? I’ll make a note of it. Next time I’ll... I just won’t go to that shop anymore."

Weiya spoke in a very quiet voice, blinking as a complex expression flickered across her face.

But she quickly returned to normal, forced a smile, and then asked:

"From the way you talk, you’re pretty good at cooking?"

"Yes, I’m quite confident in my cooking skills. Although I started from a low point, I’ve improved rapidly."

"Is that right? It seems you’re talented at everything... except for *that* one thing. Never mind. I hope I get a chance to taste your cooking someday."

"Of course, of course. Just come over to my place for a meal whenever you’re free."

The two continued their idle chat and quickly finished dinner.

But it was still too early for bed, leaving them with plenty of time together.

Lloyd, of course, wouldn’t waste such precious time. He bent down, pulled a book out from under the sofa, and prepared to discuss it with Weiya.

Coincidentally, Weiya also pulled a book out from behind her back, ready to discuss it with Lloyd.

The two had reached a subtle, unspoken understanding.

Except, the book Lloyd produced was the one on equipment studies he had borrowed today, as thick as a paving stone.

And the one Weiya took out was a fashion magazine about popular songs and plays...

She glanced at the book in Lloyd’s hands, secretly shook her head, and hid her magazine behind her back before he could notice.

Lloyd, oblivious, asked:

"I read half of this book today. It’s really interesting. It talks about the development trajectory of our current equipment. Have you read it?"

"Um... I’ve skimmed a few pages, but I haven’t finished it."

"Isn’t that perfect? Come on, let’s study it together."

As he spoke, Lloyd scooted closer to Weiya, opened the book on his lap, and motioned for her to look at it with him.

They were like two children sharing a fairy tale, which made Weiya not know whether to laugh or cry.

’But this feeling, this atmosphere... it’s actually quite nice, isn’t it?’

For the rest of the evening, the two sat shoulder-to-shoulder, diligently studying the contents of the book and occasionally discussing a few points.

Naturally, this method was far less efficient than Lloyd reading on his own, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he rather enjoyed the process.

It wasn’t until it was almost time for bed that the two reluctantly parted ways.

"Goodnight, Lloyd," Weiya said. "I’m staying in the room next door tonight. If you need anything, you can just call out for me."

As she said this, she realized it might sound wrong and cause a misunderstanding, so she quickly added an explanation:

"I mean, if you run into danger or need help with something."

Lloyd: "???"

He didn’t quite understand why Weiya had suddenly felt the need to explain.

But he still said goodnight to Weiya and went to take a shower.

.........

The tallest building on the west side of the city, the securities firm tower, was currently the highest structure in the area. From its rooftop at night, one could overlook the entire nightscape of Radiant City and feel the most bone-chilling of the night’s winds.

A disheveled upper-class man—his tie, top hat, and monocle all gone—stood at the edge of the rooftop, gazing down at the pedestrians and vehicles below, which looked as tiny as ants.

That very morning, he had been a respectable securities manager, managing portfolios for many wealthy clients, with a future that seemed limitless.

But after just one small market fluctuation in the afternoon, he was instantly left penniless. Worse, he was now saddled with enormous debt, and countless people were hunting for him, ready to cut something off him to vent their rage.

So, he spent the evening drinking heavily before coming up to the rooftop.

Under the influence of alcohol, he teetered precariously, yet his hands instinctively gripped the railing, terrified he might actually fall.

After hovering on the edge of life and death for a full half-hour, the cold wind gradually sobered him up, and he suddenly remembered something.

It was a ’Change of Fortune’ ritual he had heard about in a high-end bar, from the mouth of a glamorous courtesan.

The manager recalled that this courtesan had been just another struggling worker two or three years ago. He must have given something up, because he’d been climbing the social ladder ever since, to the point where he could drink at the same table as the manager himself.

He had attributed it all to that mysterious ’Change of Fortune’ ritual, claiming it was the key that had turned his life around when he was at his lowest point.

As an elite, highly educated man, the manager naturally hadn’t believed any of it at first. He had just assumed the woman was trying to cultivate an air of mystery to raise her own value.

But now that he was in such a desperate situation himself, he suddenly found himself believing her story.

Furthermore, he could clearly recall the items and every single step required for the ’Change of Fortune’ ritual.

’But that was at least a year ago...’

But the manager couldn’t dwell on that. He treated it as the last straw in a desperate situation—one he had to grasp tightly.

He raced down from the rooftop and used the last of his cash to buy the three basic components: a candle, incense, and a mirror.

The power of this ritual lay in the fact that it required only these simple things.

The manager then hurried back to his office, locked the door tight, lit the incense and candle, and, facing the mirror, began to quietly chant the Spell the courtesan had taught him.

The Spell had no clear meaning; it sounded like nothing more than a string of muffled, delirious mutterings.

And yet, the manager now clearly remembered the pronunciation of every syllable, the sequence of every note, and he recited it all without a single error.

In the pitch-black office, the only light came from the flickering candle flame, casting the manager’s faint, wavering shadow on the wall behind him.

Until he uttered the final syllable.

He then held his chanting posture, eyes shut tight, hands clasped before his chest.

But his shadow on the wall suddenly began to twitch and struggle, as if enduring immense pain in its final death throes.

After two or three seconds, the manager opened his eyes again, looked down at his hands, and muttered:

"Weak... but the best I could find for now."

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