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Now reading: Chapter 525: Heavenly Bliss. (Part Two) from Cyberpunk: Ultimate Cyborg System, a Sci-fi novel by Nomanalive.

’What are you-’

Dante’s thoughts were interrupted as the fake applause stopped and the hostess spoke again, and he found his focus turning to her despite the urgency in Volcan’s voice.

"Unfortunately, it seems the heroes are no longer our only worry. Many ignore the truth of this world, and to them, what we do here is evil—unforgivable. The power we wield puts us above the masses, yet those who look up at us from below always seek to chain us down—to force their rules on us. Nothing they do can change the truth, however. Nothing they do will change the fact that we are strong, and they are weak. They know that all too well, and so they gaze at us with hatred, envy, and malice." She paused, slowly shaking her head. "The weak can do no more than curse us, refusing to accept their worthlessness. That curse has no effect on us, but the world listens, and the world responds in kind. To the world, we are the manifestation of evil, and so it drives us into the darkness, and even then, it never ceases to haunt us."

Raising a hand, the hostess snapped her fingers. The light cast on the stage shut off, but Dante could still see just fine. A section of the stage opened up, and from below, a platform slowly rose. Seeing what was carried on it, the bad feeling Dante had since arriving at the underground theater only got stronger.

The spotlights cast a circle of light on the raised platform. On it stood a child—a girl no older than ten. Seeing her blonde hair rang alarm bells in Dante’s head, but a wave of relief washed over him the next mont. Seeing the frozen terror on the girl, Dante hated himself for having the thought. He hated himself for feeling glad that she wasn’t Marie.

"Gentlen, you must have heard the rumors by now," the hostess walked around the little girl. "The world has unleashed its curse on us. A ghost bound by nothing. A ghost that does not fear our power, nor does it fear the power of those who rule the world from the light." Coming to a stop, she turned to face the audience. "A ghost so elusive even the world’s strongest failed to catch it. This ghost stops at nothing. It can appear anywhere, anyti, without a signal or a warning. For all we know, it might be here with us, waiting for the right mont to strike."

A wave of whispers and murmurs washed over the theater, but just like with the applause, it was all fake.

"Please do not be concerned," The hostess said, halting the unnecessary noise. "This event is as secretive as it could get, and only those invited will ever know it took place. Moreover," She held her hand up, and sothing fell into it. "We have devised a solution to our ghost problems—a thod to draw them out."

Her arm stretched, and she pointed the object at the little girl. A pistol. Dante saw it the instant it fell into the woman’s hand, but only once she took aim did he understand what was happening. His perception accelerated, and his eyes watched as her finger rested on the trigger.

BLAM

The sharp sound of a single gunshot echoed through the theater. The silence that followed was broken by a faint thud, then a clang. Blood splattered onto the stage, quickly filling the circle of light. Everything went dark in a mont, then the entire theater lit up.

The hostess, Courtney Rottenier, was standing in the sa spot. Her arm was still held out, spraying crimson blood from a fresh stomp right above the elbow. She stared at it with an impassive expression, then turned to the left, glancing at where the rest of her limb rested, still holding onto the pistol. Her eyes then shifted to the other end of the stage. The little girl whose head she had been aiming at was there, floating in the air as if held by sothing invisible.

"My, oh my," the hostess’s red lips curved into a small smile. "So it was here with us after all. The Ghost."

The air around the little girl blurred, then it scattered, revealing an armored figure draped in a cloak. Dante gritted his teeth. Even with his perception enhanced to its limit, his mind still failed to co up with a solution. His body didn’t wait for him to reach that conclusion, and before he knew it, he was already where he was now.

"I’m impressed, " the hostess said. "To think you could erase your presence to such an extent. If you hadn’t revealed yourself, no one would have noticed."

Dante noticed soone standing, and without turning to look, he realized it was the man Volcan had scanned earlier. He was a tall fellow with muscles that threatened to tear the suit he was wearing. He held his hand up, and sothing slowly rose from it, slowly spinning over his palm.

Dante saw that it was a small amulet with a sizable yellow gem emitting a faint light. The light gradually grew brighter as cracks spread over the gem, and just as it appeared on the verge of shattering, the man grasped it with his hand. The gem shattered, and a wave of light washed over the theater.

Panic struck Dante. His Absolute Awareness told him that sothing had changed, but he failed to understand what it was.

He was about to ask Volcan when he noticed the hostess move. She pulled on the air with her remaining hand, and the one he severed jumped. A closer look showed that several threads were attached to it.

"How scary," she said, placing the severed arm up to the fresh stump. "What would I have done if you chose to sever my head?"

Several more threads erged from the wound and connected it to the severed arm. As if pulled from a different end, the threads drew the arm back to its place. Several more appeared right after and quickly stitched the wound. As if it hadn’t been detached a second ago, the hostess held up her left arm and looked at her hand, opening and closing it several tis. Her eyes then shifted to Dante, and the smile vanished from her face.

"So? How long do you intend on holding that thing?"

Her question did not make sense until Dante saw the small, trembling hand reaching up at him. It grasped at his cloak, and he looked down, as if pulled by it. His thoughts froze as he saw the little girl look up at him, tears spilling from her wide-open eyes. Her skin was full of fist-sized bumps, each glowing a faint red as they distorted her once pretty visage. Her mouth moved as she tried to word sothing, but nothing ca out.

The red glow spilled out into the surroundings, and the next second, the underground theater was shaken with a devastating explosion.

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