Chapter 247

**Chapter 146: Slaughtering Heroes**

Is he happy?

Without a doubt, having a birthday party he never imagined with his friends and the heroes he loves and admires is happiness.

Meeting someone long lost, someone he thought he would never see again, fills his heart with infinite emotion. Not to mention, his parents, who have never shown him a good face due to his personality, proudly declare how proud they are of him.

Such joy is a rare experience for Ash, who hasn’t dreamt in a long time—something beautiful he has never tasted before.

It was so wonderful that it made him think he was dreaming.

That’s right.

This is a dream!

“I have never had a happy ending; happy endings belong to good people, not to me!”

The signal axe splits the ground’s tiles, creating deep cracks as high-temperature steam rises from the ground. In a scene devoid of blood gushing fountains, a headless body lies on the ground, and its rolling head morphs back into a forgotten mannequin made of plaster.

“That’s right, although I’ve forgotten a lot, I can be sure I’ve never experienced such good fortune.”

“So all of this is just a layer of skin draped over the character settings from my memories, performed as a stage play for me.”

Ash releases his weapon and surveys the surroundings, but everyone remains oblivious, still applauding and offering him their sincerest birthday wishes.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Ash, Happy Birthday!”

“Happy Birthday!”

……

“Thank you.”

Yet this unfamiliar feeling of happiness makes Ash feel sick.

In his hands, a pair of sticks flickering with a deep, eerie blue, Ash spins the ultimate fighting instrument quickly, which he had long coveted. He suddenly shouts, sweeping it to clear the area of everyone approaching him.

This is a false “past” world, meaning it entirely originates from Ash’s imagination; in other words, whatever he thinks becomes reality.

Actions such as “killing” his past friends are not something a normal person would take lightly.

“Hah, no way!”

His left hand wields X’s head spear, and his right hand grips Orb’s slasher. As he wields the two unstoppable short blades, wherever Ash’s rainbow-like blade passes, even time and space are cut in half!

But that’s not enough!

“Destroy everything!”

With full force, he fires the cannon in his hands, each blast blowing away everything in its path, and after a few shots, he casually tosses it aside, pulling out the Tooth Strike staff next. He grips the billiard cue-like weapon like a spear, charging forward and spearing several people, pinning them to the wall.

“Crash, crash~”

The sound of plaster and plastic shattering fills his ears, surrounded by mannequin models from clothing stores, plaster models from art colleges, wooden life-sized dolls, and even scarecrows, yet not a single real person.

Crushing a piece of plaster boy that rolled to his feet, Ash can no longer maintain his self-deprecating grin, and his angry heart begins to show.

Ash looks left and right, and everyone still congratulates him, clapping as if they are spectators in a gladiatorial arena cheering for the atrocities of the gladiators.

“Ash, congratulations.”

“Why aren’t you happy? Everyone is here to congratulate you.”

“Yeah, Smiley, Smiley—”

“Shut up!”

The veins on Ash’s forehead throb, and with a strike from the ink-splattered grabbing gauntlet, he smashes his head into pieces.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you heroes? So why are you just standing there, stop me, stop this villain, me!”

He presses someone to the ground in front of everyone, pounding them with fist after fist until not even the slightest powder remains.

The soul steel longsword is also wielded by Ash; his expression, now breaking down, lets out inhuman howls. He runs forward, slicing everyone who gets close to him in half.

“People are dying! Many people are dying!”

The blades that strike them feel just as if they are cutting into himself—negating their identities as heroes is the same as negating his past, negating his heart’s desires.

Even if the words sound nice and reveal the truth, the fantasy still lingers in their hearts.

But he is destined to be disappointed; the heroes he longs for do not appear, no one stops him, no one responds to him.

“Don’t you have any feelings? Why can’t you understand?!”

“Fake!”

He cuts off the head of the person in front of him.

“Mannequin!”

He slashes through the body of the person in front of him.

“If you can’t do anything, then don’t wear their faces!”

His arm morphs into a dragon claw, grabbing someone very familiar, stabbing both hands into their abdomen and tearing them in half.

But still, no vivid red blood spills out.

“How long do you plan to insult me…!”

Anger reaches its peak, bringing about calm; purple light flickers in his eyes, the darkness swirling beneath him as Ash lifts the longsword strapped to his arm, inserting it into the Gatling gun held in his left hand, combining the two for a linked power burst.

“Limit Break Sword! Ultra Power Rotary Blade Combination! MAXIMUM MODE!”

He pulls the trigger, and the deafening sound of gunfire erupts as the Gatling gun unleashes enhanced energy bullets, smashing everyone else left in the vicinity to pieces.

Seeing on the screen a cosplay of Rambo, “Aaaaah!!!” as it fires wildly with a machine gun, no one can utter a word.

“He gave up on the beautiful dream and woke up from it…”

Yet he woke up in a way no one wanted to see.

Or, looking at Ash, completely blinded by malice on the screen, it is hard to determine whether he has genuinely awakened.

So someone began to act.

“I’m going!”

“Mana—!”

Rikka pulls on Ai’s sleeve, preventing her from leaving, her hands trembling uncontrollably.

She wants Ai to save Ash but fears for Ai’s safety, filled with uncertainty about whether to do so.

“Ash may not recognize you in his current state! Mana, if you go, you could be killed like that too!”

“If that’s the case, then I must go!”

Ai firmly shakes off Rikka’s hand, her expression not the face of someone facing imminent death, but instead sporting the confident smile of Ai Aida, the student council president, returning to her face.

“Rikka, do you remember? Inside Ash is the Selfish Ancestor! But I am different from him; I believe in love, and I believe love’s power can melt down the walls of the self.”

And I’ve already said so much—if I back out now, everything will be for nothing, right?

“I’m sorry, but this time I am not doing this for my own satisfaction; I promise, Cure Heart will bring him back!”

Ai’s words are filled with strength, unwavering without a trace of doubt.

“Otherwise, he will truly forget us; I will not let Ash become just a memory for us!”

Believe in me!

Gripping her own shoulder, Ai’s complexion is pale, but her spirit is several times stronger than before; at that moment, Cure Heart’s words fill with an inexplicable strength.

She leaps into the screen.

As a result of the shared bombardment by countless enhanced weapons, the past home can no longer maintain its original state; he stands amidst the ruins, memories from the past bursting like bubbles, being crushed together, eventually flashing by, becoming even more fragmented.

“I want to kill the one who toyed with me, I want to kill…”

I want to kill, who?

Ash throws aside his weapons, weakened, sitting on the ground.