Nightmare Revenge

Eighteen years later, during the day. "Whoosh... whoop... whoop," a police car pulled up in front of an empty rental house, located at the very end of a street in a housing complex. A middle-aged, balding man in a brown long coat stepped out of the car. He stared at the dilapidated, long-vacant rental house. Numerous police cars and an ambulance surrounded the scene.

The police had set up a perimeter to keep curious residents from entering. The middle-aged man stepped past the yellow police tape. An officer greeted him.

"Lieutenant Michael," the officer saluted.

"Yeah, what's the situation?" Michael asked.

"Please go in and see for yourself, Lieutenant," the officer replied.

"Hmph, alright," Michael responded.

Michael walked into the empty rental house. He saw the dust-covered floor, covered in footprints from police and medical personnel. He walked into the living room and immediately covered his nose with a handkerchief.

The furniture in the living room was still complete and covered in plastic, untouched. However, on a single-seater sofa chair, the body of a middle-aged man wearing a brown sleeping robe, house slippers, and white hair, was sitting casually, his hands resting on the armrests.

As Michael observed more closely, he saw that the corpse's face looked terrified, its mouth agape and eyes wide, its body thin like a mummy, with all its veins visible.

Michael put on his gloves. He opened the sleeping robe, revealing a neat surgical scar on the victim's chest, running from below the collarbone to the abdomen.

Michael closed the sleeping robe again. A young detective approached him.

"Lieutenant Michael," he greeted.

"Oh, it's you, John, I thought it was someone else who in charge here," Michael replied casually, turning.

"Same as before, Lieutenant. The victim is always placed in an empty rental in a state like they've seen a ghost," John said, looking at the body.

"Do you know who the victim is?" Michael asked.

"The victim's name is Greg Williams, 50 years old, a high school language teacher," John stated.

"Does he have a record?" Michael asked.

"Hmm, he was once reported to the police for sexual harassment of one of his students but was released due to insufficient evidence," John replied, reading his notes.

"Hmm, I see. So he has a record. When did he die? Has forensics investigated?" Michael asked.

"According to the forensic team's brief examination, the victim died more than two days ago. His blood is dry, his body is mummified as you can see, and his heart is missing. It's estimated the victim wasn't killed in this house but placed here," John explained.

"And we're still confused about how the perpetrator got in here. Have you asked the landlord?" Michael asked.

"Yes, Lieutenant. According to the landlord, there was nothing unusual about his rental, and all the doors and windows were locked until yesterday, when some neighbors passing this street to take a shortcut smelled a strong decaying odor from inside. When he checked, he found the victim and reported it to the police," John replied.

"So, it's like the previous cases. He leaves no trace and takes nothing inside the rentals. His targets are always empty rental houses or apartments where he puts his victims," Michael mused.

"Roughly that, Lieutenant. There aren't even footprints, and when we entered, everything was in its original condition, thick with dust," John said.

"Alright, please make the report," Michael said, starting to leave.

"But higher-ups want us to identify and hunt the perpetrator, Lieutenant," John countered.

"How, exactly? Tell the higher-ups to come down themselves. I'll talk to them later. Besides, as long as the victims are people with cases or at least have been reported, I don't have a problem. In fact, it helps the police, doesn't it? Alright, I'm leaving," Michael said.

Casually, with his hands in his long coat pockets, Michael walked out of the rental house, which was still bustling with police examining the scene.

******

Meanwhile, at the same time, in a high school classroom. Dean, now strikingly handsome with a sharp nose and blue eyes, messy short black hair, and an athletic, muscular build, was sitting in the back row, resting his chin on his hand, staring at the whiteboard.

"Status," he thought.

"Whoosh!" A red hologram screen opened in front of his face. Casually, with half-open eyes, he read the screen.

==========================================

STATUS

Name: Dean Wilson.

Age: 18

Race: Half Reaper.

Level: 30 (2200/20,000)

Power: 6,000.

Active skill: Brain control, illusion, vanish, surgery, soul drain.

Passive skill: Low presence, hyper regeneration, scythe mastery.

Weapon: Death Scythe.

Debt: $8,000,000.

Soul Partner: None.

==========================================

"Ugh, still no level up. When will this debt of mine be over?" he muttered.

[Patience. At least your debt has decreased by two million dollars since two years ago.]

"Quest," Dean thought.

"Whoosh!" A smaller hologram screen opened in front of his status screen. He read it.

==========================================

QUEST

Target: Greg Williams.

Age: 50

Occupation: Language teacher.

Evil deeds: Rape, abuse, extortion.

Victim: Tania (16), Cindi (17), Maria (16), Lexi (18), Gina (16).

Status: Deceased.

Reward: 2000 exp points.

==========================================

Applicant data:

Name: Gina.

Age: 16.

Soul value: $300,000.

Payment: Soul.

Status: Paid off.

Life status: Deceased.

Debt: $8,300,000 – $300,000 = $8,000,000.

Quest completed.

==========================================

"Are you sure that $300,000 was deducted?" Dean asked.

[Don't try to double-dip.]

"Hehe, sorry," Dean said.

[Because our client couldn't pay, and according to the agreement, she offered her soul since she had no hope left in life, we accepted the job and got paid. So, it's normal if it takes a long time; not everyone dares to sacrifice their soul like her. Just be patient; your debt will be paid off eventually.]

"Yeah, I get it. It's just a shame, she was a beautiful person," Dean replied.

[What, were you thinking of making her your girlfriend?]

"Of course not. It's just a shame she was destroyed just like that," Dean said casually.

[That's true, but there are many people like her in this world, and she will be reborn after being processed in my 'stomach.']

"Don't talk about digesting souls in your stomach, it's impropriate," Dean said.

Dean turned to look out the window. He took out his smartphone and opened it, staring at an icon of installed app called "Nightmare Revenge: instant guarantee."

"There are many messed-up people in this world. Just waiting for another notification from this app. Just be patient. Good thing I thought of making an app like this one and half years ago. NS distributes it directly to users," Dean thought to himself.