Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill Chapter 644 Sleepy
Previously on Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill...
Upon the relentless sounds of thudding reaching their ears, Vritra and Maeve halted momentarily before approaching the wall, where they spotted an individual repeatedly banging their head against it.
The evident bloodstain stood out starkly, leaving the pair utterly stunned.
They advanced further and gently tugged the figure away from the wall.
A male appeared before them; Vritra examined his features closely, sensing a vague recognition, perhaps from one of the people he'd saved previously.
Though he let out a yawn, Vritra continued gazing intently for several additional moments.
"You are…?" he inquired, as tears welled up abruptly in the man's eyes while he started murmuring incoherently.
"I-I don't want to live... sob... my wife died out there… sob..." The man burst into immediate tears, looking utterly wretched.
Vritra's brow furrowed intensely as he pushed his memory harder, the youthful visage growing increasingly recognizable.
"Wasn't your name something like... On- honest or whatever? Hmm, you seem familiar..." Vritra's gaze sharpened even more, taxing his mind to its utmost.
Next, he yawned once again and glanced at the man whose forehead bore a bloody mark.
Drawn by the noise, a squad of guards showed up at the scene, eyeing the situation with puzzled expressions.
No longer hidden in the darkness, Vritra and Maeve became fully visible to the approaching guards.
Maeve quickly described what had transpired.
"Haa. Incidents like this have occurred repeatedly; certain folks simply can't handle losing their dear ones and choose to take their own lives.
But Sir, you must endure for your son's sake—you can't rely on others to look after him, can you?" the guard stated firmly.
Turning toward Vritra and Maeve, he added: "No need to fret; I'll escort him safely to his tent, and we'll ensure he doesn't attempt this once more."
"…" Vritra merely nodded in response, yet the sense of discomfort swelled within his chest.
The guards departed, dragging the man with them and abandoning the duo behind.
"Master, we should head back; this location feels off to me as well."
Maeve urged, grasping his arm tightly since she yearned to escape the camp immediately.
Vritra agreed with a nod, shifting his view from the bloodied spot on the wall to the heavens above, where a full moon hung prominently.
"Tonight's moon appears quite beautiful." He remarked casually prior to strolling off alongside Maeve.
From the crimson smear, a single droplet of blood trickled down, slipping into the nearby gutter.
Another fresh scar now marred the wall, blending with the multitude of previous ones.
As Vritra and Maeve conversed while heading to their tent, they resolved to depart at first light tomorrow.
Naturally, he still had to collect a few vital items from the area; the thought of those uniforms sparked considerable thrill in him.
All at once, he collided with another figure, startled by his failure to detect someone lurking there.
"Sorry." Vritra muttered, pressing on with his steps.
"You're back, honey. Did you notice anything odd?" Vanessa inquired, her face beaming with affectionate warmth.
"Hmm, I'm not entirely certain. We merely witnessed a guy smashing his head against the wall—that's definitely peculiar." He answered.
Following a brief exchange, they chose to retire for the night; as the group neared the tent, they froze just outside, standing there in a daze.
Their faces had grown vacant and lifeless.
***
In the morning, Vritra roused himself, beset by deeper fatigue than before.
Avoiding any disturbance to his spouse, he cleaned up swiftly and resolved to consult the general.
Reaching Peter's tent, he spoke briefly with the sentry and at last gained an audience with the leader; upon requesting uniforms, the general consented with a hearty chuckle.
Once he'd picked out the attire, the general invited him for a crucial discussion.
Vritra consented yet insisted on grabbing breakfast beforehand.
He intended to set off that very day.
Post-meal, Vritra conferred with Peter and learned of the impending mutant surge.
Thus, he chose to lend assistance.
They strategized briefly, and soon the mutants assaulted; united, they eradicated every last one.
However, dusk had fallen heavily, prompting Vritra to postpone his exit until the following dawn.
Sharing an evening meal with his kin, he opted to patrol the camp alongside Maeve and then…
THUD THUD
***
That gnawing anxiety in Vritra's core thrashed violently, yet his form persisted mechanically, trapped in an endless loop of habit.
Occasionally, Maeve experienced similar bewilderment; the bracelet on her arm shimmered briefly, only for her recollections to fade away.
Once more, under the cover of night, Vritra and Maeve ventured forth to survey the environs.
"We'll linger here for an extra day; a couple of essentials remain to be obtained." Vritra declared, his thoughts drifting to the form-fitting uniforms.
"Hehe. What's brewing in that mind of yours, master~?" Maeve teased lightly, then halted sharply, struck by a nagging sense of déjà vu, as if these words had escaped her lips countless times.
"What's the matter?" Vritra pivoted to regard her, concern etching his features.
"I…" At first, Maeve's expression brimmed with bewilderment, swiftly morphing into terror; her mouth opened as she whispered hastily:
"S- Stat che- sta…" A yawn overtook her, replaced by a serene smile as she dismissed it with a headshake.
'Stat? What's that supposed to signify?' A sharp ache pierced Vritra's skull, but they pressed onward.
Encountering yet another soul frenziedly battering their head, followed by a return to slumber.
Conferring with Peter, securing the uniform, joining the defense of the outpost anew—they tarried too long and vowed to depart come morning.
Yet day by day, Vritra sensed his thoughts being sliced by razor edges.
Exhaustion weighed on them like weeks without rest, depriving them of true rejuvenation.
…
Again, he roamed the area with Maeve, keeping watch.
"Hehe. What's brewing in that mind of yours, master~?" Maeve teased lightly before halting sharply, struck by that eerie repetition.
"What's the matter?" Vritra pivoted to regard her, concern etching his features.
"I…" Maeve's complexion drained of color, tremors wracking her frame.
In a flash, she unclasped the chain from her wrist and fastened it onto Vritra's, who peered at her with bafflement.
"What are you up to? That was meant for you now." He remarked, though he refrained from halting her, his reddened eyes dropping downward.
"Master, run—" Maeve yawned unexpectedly, her smile returning as she shook her head and clasped his hand.
Vritra's frown deepened; he eyed the chain and grappled with a fading recollection, perhaps of much more.
'Stat…' The single term echoed persistently in his thoughts.
Hearing the thudding resound, his discomfort surged to new heights.
The chain encircling his wrist hummed and emitted a soft glow, granting him a fleeting sharpness of mind.
"Stat!" The realization hit him like lightning, prompting him to summon the status interface.
『
[Stats]
(Strength: 49.2)
(Agility: 50.9)
(Endurance: 51.3)
(Spiritual: 35.9)
{Free Attribute: 10}
』
Every statistic mirrored its prior state without alteration; he puzzled over Maeve's intent but then noticed the sin points.
{Sin Points: 102,455}
'H-How did the count skyrocket like this? We only got here today—it should've stayed at 14,000!!' He inwardly cried out, battling an overwhelming drowsiness.
As his cognition grew jumbled, he issued urgent directives in haste.
'Pour every point into spiritual, claim 500 points in rewards… exhaust all options…'
YAWN
Forgetting it all in an instant, he seized Maeve's hand and veered toward the source of the thuds.
Suddenly, a spectral wheel materialized before Vritra, leaving him perplexed—had he triggered it unknowingly?
But then he stiffened as a soothing chill washed over his psyche, inducing profound calm.
❖❖❖
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