Death Heir’s Devouring System

Thanks to the ID devices that pretty much every Chosen wore, it was a simple matter to connect with other people.

All Azrael had to do was follow Chunk's instructions; it wasn't long before he found himself in a lobby with another person.

Now a figure of the same height as Chunk stood before him. However, the man looked completely different.

He wasn't bald here, quite the opposite in fact—he had long silky black hair that reached his feet. Even more, his face looked different, with a sharper jaw and eyes of a different color.

Had it not been for the same voice, Azrael would have thought he was looking at someone else entirely.

"What is this?" Azrael asked, pointing towards his new look.

"Ah." Chunk's lips parted as he scratched the back of his head.

"Since this is a virtual reality and not the real world, we can change our appearance at will… so this is the look I have made for myself."

With an arched eyebrow, Azrael asked, "Is there a point in doing that?"

A beaming smile spread on Chunk's face. "Of course."

With a flick of his finger, he called forth a red demonic mask, putting it on his face.

"There are countless things you can do in VR, but one truth always remains: the more fear you strike into your opponent's heart, the greater your advantage. Hiding your face helps with this, because it conceals your true emotions while planting doubt and worry in your foe's mind. Pretty much everyone does it now."

Azrael was genuinely surprised; he hadn't thought about it deeply. But it did make sense. It would indeed be easier if his foes were to become anxious just by seeing him.

"As such, the very first thing I advise you to do is change your look. You don't have to change much, just enough to strike fear in your foes' hearts."

Since Chunk's logic was rock solid, Azrael navigated the large menu, stopping at the 'Avatar' option.

Once he selected it, he was teleported to another place with numerous options.

"Strike fear, huh… Well, I guess this could work."

It didn't take long to choose a look that satisfied him.

Once he returned to the lobby, Chunk gazed at him, ready to critique his look—prepared to correct him and offer pointers.

Only to take a step back, heart skipping a beat momentarily.

"Holy…" he muttered.

He had always believed himself a master of forging fearsome avatars. Yet this… this was unlike anything he had ever witnessed.

Usually, when one thought about inflicting fear on their foes, they would choose demonic masks with varying degrees of expressions and flashy things that demanded attention.

Maybe that was why Azrael's choice felt so unique—no one had chosen anything similar yet so effective.

His body was clad in his usual black armor; the only difference was that he had added some blood on it for a dramatic effect.

However, the heart-stopping part was the thing on his face.

A white strip of cloth hung from his forehead, fixed like a banner. It fell dead-straight over his face, erasing every feature behind its featureless void. The lower half of the fabric was soaked in blood—still wet, still dripping—turning the air around him metallic and foul. Like Death foretold.

Something so simple, so emotionless, proved much more effective at stirring fear.

And the nice part was that it didn't obstruct Azrael's vision at all. To him, it was completely transparent.

He waited for Chunk's assessment, only to frown seeing the way the man was looking at him—frozen.

Since he wasn't going to speak, Azrael did instead; he tilted his head to the side slightly as he spoke.

"Well?"

Chunk blinked a few times, coming back to reality.

"It's… perfect. You have an eye for this stuff, it seems."

Azrael nodded silently, taking a step closer.

"I recommend we start with a quick battle royale. They usually don't last more than a few hours, yet give you the chance to battle many people of varying strengths."

Following the advice, he glanced at the menu; there were several modes: Solo, Duo, Trio, and Squad.

"So we will be playing Duo since there are two of us, right?"

Chunk hesitated for a second. "Actually, I thought playing Solo would be more beneficial for you… As I told you, I am quite famous. When people see me, they tend to team up against me."

Azrael scoffed.

"Don't worry about that."

Without further ado, they selected the match and were immediately transported to a lobby waiting for more players to gather.

Just like Chunk had said, pretty much everyone he saw wore some form of demonic mask, concealing their features.

He was the only odd one with the unique cloth on his face.

Fortunately, they didn't wait long; thanks to the popularity of the mode, it took them less than a minute to find enough players.

[The 100-player cap has been reached.]

[Ascension Level: Proven.]

[Real powers have been set.]

[Pain receptors set to realistic.]

[Skills allowed, Items allowed, Remembrances forbidden.]

After the announcement of the rules, Azrael found himself alongside his teammate on a towering pillar erected in the middle of a vast empty field.

"Gods, what rotten luck!" Chunk complained. "This is the worst spawn point on this map!"

Azrael had to agree somewhat; it would be a hassle going down without Cinder. Yet the vantage point gave them one great advantage.

"What are these four doing?" he asked, pointing at the far distance.

Seeing them, Chunk frowned—though it was hidden behind the mask.

"Teamers, we call them. They probably know each other, and instead of fighting when they meet, they team up. They pick off other duos with their numbers until only they remain—then they settle the score in duels."

There was such unfairness in these games? That intrigued Azrael somewhat.

"Isn't that against the rules?"

"Rules? The pop-ups that appeared before the match began were the rules. Everything else is allowed."

Feeling a headache coming on, Chunk massaged his temples.

"From bad to worse… not only did we spawn at the worst place, but next to teamers as well. Sorry, Azrael, it seems like your first game will be a short one."

He tried to encourage him.

"Still, don't lose faith—there is a component of luck to these games which makes them so compelling—"

Chunk stopped mid-sentence, searching for Azrael's figure that had vanished.

The moment he learned that they had low chances of survival, Azrael made his choice and jumped from the towering pillar, eyes hidden behind the bloodied veil, focused on the two duos.

This was why he was here, bothering to play these VR games. To gain experience against absurd situations that would rarely happen in the real world.

And him fighting against four Proven at the same time? That was a rare chance; he wasn't willing to let go.

With a flick of his finger, he called forth his scythe and used it as leverage to slow down his descent just enough so that his legs didn't break from the fall.

Safely landing on the ground, he cracked his neck, observing the two teamed-up duos from a distance.

"If they feel like it's necessary to team up, then it must mean they don't have confidence in their strength," he mused, shattering the ground behind his feet.

Unfazed by the danger, he pushed full force towards them.