Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes.

Chapter 358, Section 105: The Power of Gluttony

The winter of 1306 AD, the third day after All Saints' Day.

light snow.

More and more ice floes piled up, extending out of the gray seawater as if trying to grab our boat.

Fog filled the air everywhere, and the weather was bitterly cold.

Food was running low, and Uncle Edgar and his sailors were trying to find a way to break through the waterway, but their hopes were slim.

My father has been locking himself in the cabin lately.

Last night, when I brought the porridge in, I heard him say that everyone was blaming him for going against Vice Commander Hugo's will and bringing this disaster upon our family.

But I don't think so. When I saw Uncle Edgar and the other relatives, there was no blame in their eyes, only the exhaustion from days of fleeing.

They told me to talk to my father more, hoping he could cheer up again.

However, when I saw him last night, he was in very poor condition. He had visibly lost weight and his eyes were sunken.

He got angry with me, saying I wasn't resolute enough, not brave enough, and that I could never become a proper knight, unworthy of inheriting our family's centuries-old glory.
Perhaps he's right. In the last battle, when arrows rained down, I did back down, and my mother was injured trying to save me. I was indeed a coward.

I didn't actually want to be a knight, but I never really had a choice.

But now, I can't back down.

The ship is trapped by ice floes, a blizzard is approaching, and pursuers may still be lurking in the shadows. I must become a true knight; I must lead my father, and everyone else, out of this desperate situation.
The pen stopped.

William exhaled a puff of white breath, put down his pen, and with his stiff right hand loosely clenched, he quickly blew a few breaths into it, then covered it under his armpit for a while before gradually feeling his hand come back to life.

As he prepared to continue writing, he seemed to faintly hear some noise not far away, but it was too blurry and brief to distinguish whether it was a joyful shout or a panicked cry.

The sound stopped abruptly, but a moment later, just as he was about to pick up his pen again, a hurried shout rang out, which could be faintly discerned as "Matthew."

William froze for a moment, losing his will to continue writing. Just as he put down his pen and prepared to go out to check the situation, the door slammed open.

It's the father.

He was wearing blood-stained plate armor, his head exposed, and he was holding an axe, the blade dripping blood.

"Father? Father?" William stood up in shock and hurriedly picked up his sword.

He didn't want to harm his father; rather, he thought the pursuers had arrived and wanted to help.

Matthew, with his disheveled hair, managed to force a strange smile.
"Son, I've finally figured it out."

"The glory of a knight is insignificant; it has never been anything but a fleeting illusion. Yet this light-hearted glory and oath have bound our family for centuries and trapped us in this predicament. How absurd and laughable."

"We can completely possess the sacred relic, break free from the past, become our own masters, and stop being this piece of crap."

William was startled by his father's unusual words and broke out in a cold sweat, interrupting him, "Father, do you know what you're saying?!"

Matthew's smile faltered, his expression twisted for a moment, but he quickly suppressed it, and one hand unconsciously reached for his waist under his plate armor.

"William, I'm giving you one day. You only have one day to consider whether you want to evolve with me, or..."

As he spoke, he backed away little by little, his voice growing softer and softer until his figure disappeared into the shadows of the corridor.

Hey.

He closed the door.

William belatedly rushed over, trying to open the door, but to no avail; it seemed to be blocked from the outside.

"Father! Open the door, Father!"

William kept banging on the door and shouting, but no one responded.

Outside the door, there was a deathly silence. It was as if the two of them were truly the only ones left on the ship; everyone else had vanished.

William pounded on the door with his shoulder again and again, but the door was unusually sturdy. In desperation, he drew his dagger and sword and began frantically hacking and prying at the wooden planks beside him.

It was a difficult process; his wrists quickly became sore and swollen, and his palms bled. But he gritted his teeth and persevered, with only one thought in his mind: Get out! Find out what really happened on the ship!
During this process, he could also hear screams and gasps intermittently.

After an unknown amount of time, he finally chiseled a hole in the door panel, kicked the loose plank open with all his might, and William crawled out of the hole in a disheveled state.

The ship's corridors were dark and eerily silent. He carried an oil lamp and held a broken sword, searching each cabin one by one.

Empty, empty, still empty!

All the rooms were empty, with only some cabin walls or floors bearing splattered dark red bloodstains.

When he finally arrived at his mother's room where she was recuperating, it was empty. The bed was in disarray, but there was no one in sight.

"No, no!" William's tears finally flowed uncontrollably, and the sword in his hand trembled violently with fear and sorrow. The most terrible conjecture was gradually becoming a reality.

creak-

Just then, a creaking sound of a door hinge turning came from the direction of the cabin entrance, and light streamed into the corridor through the open cabin door.

William felt as if something was choking him, tightening his throat. Fear made him instinctively extinguish the oil lamp, shrink into the nearest shadowy corner, and cover his mouth tightly.

Heavy, familiar footsteps were approaching from the cabin entrance, step by step, heading towards his original cabin.

"Father, what's wrong?"

"Could it be... that he really..." William dared not think any further.

His gaze fell on the cabin door emitting light; to find the answer, he had to go to the deck.

Perhaps we can find out what really happened there.

He suppressed his fear, slowed his pace, and used the low noise of the waves as cover as he walked towards the cabin door.

Soon, he stepped onto the deck, and what came into view, apart from a vast expanse of sea fog and falling snowflakes, was a terrible mass of blood on the deck.

And trails of blood, drawn from all directions, converged near the bow of the ship, where familiar or unfamiliar heads, along with scattered bones, were cruelly piled into a small mountain.

His mother and Uncle Edgar's hollowed-out eyes were staring in his direction.

Everyone was eaten?!
And eat them
"what!!"

Distracted by the horrific scene, William felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He instinctively swung his sword backward to create distance.

With a tearing sound, his clothes were ripped off his shoulder, a large chunk of flesh was ripped off, and blood gushed out instantly.

He saw the attacker; it was his father, Matthew.

But he wasn't wearing his knight's plate armor at the moment; he was only dressed in casual clothes, his hair was disheveled, and there was fresh blood on the corner of his mouth as he chewed.

"Father! You didn't do this! Did you?! Tell me you didn't do this!"

William's hastily thrust sword was caught by the blade, but he couldn't pull it out and had to let go.

He staggered backward, not daring to approach the pile of corpses, nor able to face his crazed father, and could only look at him with a desperate, pleading gaze.

Matthew slowly raised his head, brushed aside his disheveled hair, and revealed an unusually young face, even more immature than William's. Only his eyes were filled with inhuman greed and madness.

"Hehe, delicious. They're delicious." Matthew swallowed the flesh he'd just bitten off William's shoulder, licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, and let out a chilling laugh. "You're delicious too."

"It didn't lie to me after all!" He suddenly opened his arms excitedly, his voice shrill. "Human flesh and blood can make me young again! It can give me eternal life!"

"Come on! Join me in this glorious journey!" He stopped abruptly, his hand reaching for his waist, a bizarre expression of struggle crossing his face, which was then replaced by a deeper madness. "No, I'm sorry, there's only one spot for the child's evolution!"

William was in complete disarray, his ears were ringing, and his mind was almost blank.

Hearing her father's incoherent ramblings, she didn't dare approach him at all. She let out a scream and turned to run away for her life.

In his panic, he ran blindly across the deck, finally pulling open a small wooden door to a storage room on the deck and diving inside, where he braced himself against the door from the inside.

In the darkness, he leaned against the door, slid down to the ground, his whole body trembling violently, panting heavily. Finally, he regained some of his senses and began to try to understand this incomprehensible situation.

"What's wrong with Father?! What happened?!"

"There must be a reason. Is it a curse on this sea area?"

"Who is it? What made Father like this?"

Just as his thoughts were in complete disarray, his hand inadvertently groped in the darkness and touched a cold, hard, familiar object.

Is this... knight's plate armor? And my father's sword?!
Touching these artifacts that represent the legacy of knighthood, William's wildly beating heart miraculously calmed down a little.

He took a few deep breaths, his breathing becoming heavy and firm. Suddenly, a strong feeling of hunger surged up from the spot where he had been bitten, causing his stomach to spasm and his head to spin.

He forcibly suppressed this wicked desire and took deep breaths.

“I cannot run away,” he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse and resolute. “I am a knight. Now, I am the last knight on this ship.”

“This is not my father’s original wish; he was manipulated. Yes, that must be it!” He tried to find a reason for his actions, a belief to keep going.

"I want to save him."

Even if the price is killing him.

In the darkness, relying on his memory and sense of touch, he began to laboriously put on the cold knight's plate armor.

Thump, thump, thump
Just as he was about to finish dressing, slow footsteps approached the storage room from outside the door, one step at a time, clearly getting closer.

William's heart pounded again. He quickened his pace in dressing, then abruptly pulled down his visor, gripped the family's heirloom two-handed sword engraved with the name "Matthew," faced the door, and stared intently at the door through the gaps in his visor, awaiting the final moment.

boom!
With a loud crash, an axe blade cleaved through the wooden door, sending splinters of wood flying! A faint ray of light pierced through the opening.

William could hear his father breathing, and he knew his father could hear him too.

The two breathing sounds gradually synchronized until they were completely in sync, and then the light at the breach dimmed.

A bloodshot eyeball pressed against the door, staring at William behind it.

"Found you, you coward."

Inside the door, William, clad in full plate armor, suddenly let out a roar that had been building up for a long time, containing all his fear, anger, and despair!
"Ahhhh!!!"

Without further hesitation, he mustered all his strength and charged toward the broken wooden door!

Boom! The already fragile wooden door was smashed open in an instant, and Matthew, who was outside the door, was knocked back a few steps by the sudden impact, his body swaying slightly.

Matthew shook his head, his maniacal smile widening, and quickly regained his balance.

"I'm so hungry, son, let me...eat you properly."

He raised the axe stained with the blood of his loved ones.

The battle between father and son finally broke out.

Matthew's attacks were completely chaotic, abandoning all the skills of the knights of the past, relying solely on the terrifying brute force granted by that evil power to slash wildly.

With a series of loud bangs, the wooden planks shattered, sending wood chips flying everywhere.

As William dodged, he desperately tried to recall every technique his father had taught him, parrying, dodging, and searching for openings.

"That's right, dodge! Make some big moves! I like hot food!! Hahahaha!!"

Matthew, still in a frenzy, suddenly changed his actions, smashing the back of his axe into William's arm.

William let out a muffled groan, feeling as if his arm no longer belonged to him.

"Father, wake up!"

"I'm perfectly sober! I'm starving! Let me have a couple of bites, haha!"

William fell silent and focused his attention.

William soon discovered that his father didn't care much about his own defenses, but he always subconsciously protected his waist.

There, tied with a rope, was a small, inconspicuous object that looked like a dinner fork.

"That's it!" William suddenly realized.

He feigned exhaustion, creating a vulnerability.

Matthew, as expected, lunged forward excitedly, opening his mouth wide as if to devour the freshest flesh and blood.

Just as the axe was about to strike, William suddenly slid to the side, his longsword flashing with a cold light.

Swish!
The rope attached to the small fork snapped instantly.

"Do not!!!"

Matthew's expression changed drastically, and he let out a terrified roar.

He abandoned the axe and reached out to snatch the falling fork.

William lunged forward without hesitation, grabbing the small fork tightly in his hand and pressing it against his abdomen.

And the instant he grasped the small fork—

A terrifying hunger, a thousand times stronger than before and enough to burn away reason, swept over his brain like a tsunami, and countless tempting whispers rang in his ears.

"Eat, eat. You've done your best. Are you hungry? Everything is an illusion. Only what you eat is your own. Everything you see before you is a delicacy, human flesh and blood, from which you can attain immortality."

"What you like, you should naturally eat. What you hate, you should devour. As for what's ordinary, why not give it a try?"

At the same time, two crystal-clear options appeared before his eyes:
[Maintain hunger, practice moderation, and become the wielder of the golden trident]

Unleash your true nature, feast to your heart's content, and embrace the power of binge eating.

"Damn beast! Give it back to me! Give me back the sacred object!"

Matthew went completely mad, pouncing and tearing at the prey like a wild beast.

William held the small fork tightly to his chest, using all his willpower to resist the hunger and whispers that threatened to devour him.

I'm so hungry, so hungry, so hungry. I'm really so hungry and uncomfortable, I'm about to... I can't hold on any longer.
In a daze, his thoughts seemed to drift back to England, back to the day he was officially granted the title of Knight Templar.

The father, rarely showing a faint smile, was carefully wiping the family heirloom sword passed down from Matthew's ancestors.

“William, do you know that knighthood has an inner and an outer aspect?” his father said. “Now, in terms of appearance, you are already a qualified knight.”

"And what about the inside?" young William couldn't help but ask.

The father stopped what he was doing, looked him over for a long time, and then slowly said, "Desire, it devours everything. I will tell you when you have truly learned how to control the desires in your heart."

"Only then can I judge whether you have become a truly qualified knight."

The cold touch of reality pulled William back to reality. He turned his head and looked at his father, who was acting like a madman and wouldn't let go, a bitter sneer flashing in his eyes.

He suddenly exerted his strength and shoved his crazed father away.

He slowly stood up, and the small fork in his hand seemed to come alive, automatically extending and expanding, radiating golden light.

In the blink of an eye, it transformed into a majestic golden trident.

William plunged the trident into the deck beside him, then picked up the longsword engraved with Matthew's name and looked at his father, who was struggling to get up.

“Father, you shouldn’t be like this.” His voice was eerily calm.

Matthew ignored everything, his eyes fixed only on the golden trident, and roared as he charged forward once more.

William drew his sword and charged as well.

puff!

The longsword pierced Matthew's abdomen.

The excruciating pain seemed to pierce through the madness briefly, restoring a sliver of clarity to Matthew's eyes.

William roared, pushing his sword and his father as he charged toward the edge of the deck.

He stopped, barely able to breathe.

Matthew, struggling with his last ounce of strength, forced out a few words through gritted teeth, "Push me down."

William remained silent, only nodding, and then, with all his might, he pushed hard on the hilt of his sword.

Matthew's figure, along with the family heirloom sword that pierced his body, fell into the misty sea below, splashing up a small, fleeting drop of water before disappearing without a trace.

William stood alone on the edge of the deck, staring blankly at the sea that had swallowed his father.

After a long while, he turned around with difficulty, staggered, picked up his father's axe, and slowly walked to the trident stuck in the deck. He gently grasped the handle, knelt down on one knee towards the pile of bones.

"Father, am I now a qualified knight?"

(End of this chapter)