Chapter 52: A Brand New Home (1)
An hour passed in the blink of an eye. The tears that had once spilled down Hinata’s face had long since dried, leaving him in a state of complete tranquility.
He felt no pain, no fear, no regret, no guilt — it was as though a single conversation with Aoki had wiped away every mixed feeling that had been churning in his heart.
In just one year he had gone through what no high schooler should ever have to endure, but this was simply his life. Out there, there were thousands of people who desperately wanted to live yet ended up dying, but him, even through all of this — he was still standing.
His lips curved into a faint smile that felt brighter than any he had ever worn.
Rising to his feet, he glanced back at the house, only for Aoki’s granddaughter to come rushing out holding two katanas he recognized very well.
"Hey big bro, Grandma said I should give you these. She also said I should tell you that she had been keeping them safe for you."
Hinata took the two swords from her, his fingers tracing lightly over their surfaces.
One was black with a red shamanic charm wound around the edge of its hilt, while the other was white with faint black stripes and a blue charm at the hilt.
These were the only two things his late father had left him, and one of the reasons Aoki’s mother had opened the Kendo dojo a few years back.
Back when he was a child, his father had said he’d stumbled upon the swords by accident and that they might very well be from another dimension. Back then Hinata hadn’t believed it, but seeing the system notification hovering above them, he couldn’t help but chuckle.
[??? Grade Immortal Item: Sons of Izanagi]
Hinata turned to the girl and closed one eye playfully. "Tell your old grandma that this young one is grateful."
The girl chuckled softly, then stiffened as if she had just remembered something. "Oh right, she also said I should tell you something else." She cleared her throat, doing her best to mimic her grandmother’s voice. "Don’t cry like a little child because you’re going to lose a system. If the system goes then be the system, you shitbag... or something like that, hahaha."
Hinata burst into laughter, which sent a flush of embarrassment crawling across the young girl’s face. He ruffled her hair lightly. "No need to be embarrassed, I understand what she’s trying to say."
"You do?"
Hinata retracted his hand and began walking away, then raised it in a lazy wave over his shoulder. "Yeah. Tell your grandma not to haunt me after she’s dead."
The young girl tilted her head slightly, nose scrunching. "Such a weird man." She suddenly raised her voice, waving her hands frantically. "Hey mister, what’s your name?!"
Hinata turned back to her and flashed a grin. "I’m Hinata! Nishikawa Hinata!"
"Nishikawa..." As if something just clicked, the girl’s eyes snapped wide. "Wait... that Nishikawa Hinata?!"
Without another word he turned and walked away. As if waiting for him, the system notification flashed in front of his eyes.
[Time left: 1:04:54]
Hinata stared at the numbers for a long moment, then spoke up. "I’m ready to go back, system."
Ding!
[Notice host, your core has shattered and you have lost your ability and foundation, and the Dragonforge family have found out about your betrayal. Do you still wish to return without thinking up a strategy?]
Hinata stared up at the sky, snow falling softly over his face. ’I guess I’m in deep shit now, aren’t I?’
He couldn’t help but smile even after reading the system’s warning.
"Yeah," he said. "Still send me back."
Ding!
[Host has made a choice.]
[As a final act before I go, I shall give the host a path to become immortal again. Please use this chance well and do have a good life.]
[Temporary ticket has expired.]
[Transportation has been initiated.]
[System log out successful.]
[Good-bye user, Nishikawa Hinata.]
The world dissolved around him in a silent shatter.
One moment he was on the snowy path, the two katanas heavy at his side. The next, the air split open like glass struck by an invisible hammer, and a jagged crack of pure black tore open before him.
Hinata didn’t flinch as the strange phenomenon unfolded; he simply stepped forward and walked through the tear in space.
On the other side there was no snow. No wind. Only water — perfectly still, crystal-clear, stretching endlessly beneath a ceiling of absolute darkness lit by nothing but a bright glow in the far distance.
Hinata found himself walking atop the vast expanse. The surface was so mirror-flat it resembled liquid glass, each slight shift of his body sending subtle ripples shivering outward.
At the far end, well beyond what his eyes could measure, was the sole source of light. A strange force pulled at him, beckoning him forward as though his fate were intertwined with whatever waited across that distance.
He had barely taken a step before a voice—low, melodious, and faintly familiar, rang inside his head.
"Why are you smiling?"
Hinata immediately looked down at the clear water, which now bore something that eerily resembled him yet was not his reflection.
The face beneath the surface was paler, almost bloodless, as though it had spent years locked away from sunlight; and deep, bruised eye bags curved like crescent moons beneath its eyes.
The reflection tilted its head slowly, the movement delayed by half a second, like an echo grown tired of repeating.
"And who are you?" Hinata asked.
The figure in the water smiled. "I am you."
Hinata nodded. "So you’re some kind of trial? Is this what the system left for me?"
"I wouldn’t expect any less from myself."
"Am I usually that narcissistic?"
"Probably."
Hinata shut his eyes and drew a slow breath. "So what’s the trial about?"
"I just wanted to ask something," the figure said, waiting until Hinata met its gaze before continuing. "What do you plan to do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you’ve lost your childhood love, both your birth parents, and your mother figure. You have no goals left, your powers are gone and you’re being hunted down as we speak, so is there really any point in leaving? You’ll end up being devoured by the strong — or perhaps by people who’ll dress the act of killing you up in hypocrisy."
Hinata’s brow furrowed slightly. "Why does that last part feel like a personal attack?"
The figure shook its head. "I’m being serious, Hina. You’ve lost everything that mattered to you. Even Goku, your only friend in this world, is gone. Is there truly any need to live past this point?"
"Of course there is," Hinata replied, a smirk pulling at his lips. "A living man can always find a purpose whether good or bad; but a dead man can’t have a purpose at all, can he?"
"You will fail."
"It wouldn’t be the first time."
"You’ll die trying."
"At least I’ll have given it everything."
"Why won’t you listen to me, you dumbass."
Hinata let out a playful scoff. "Maybe you’re just not trying hard enough to convince me."
The reflection frowned for a moment, then smiled softly. "It seems you’ve already made up your mind."
"No more tricks?"
"No more tricks."
Hinata slipped his hands into his pockets, took one step forward, and felt a massive weight lift from his shoulders.
As he walked across the water, different hands reached up from beneath the surface and grabbed at him, pulling hard to drag him down, but he kept moving forward. Different voices and inner demons bellowed their rage and curses into his ears, yet he paid them no mind. Different temptations rose to block his path, but his focus held steady.
As he continued down the path, rotten arms crumbling along either side of him, he found himself turning his life over in his mind — his choices, his beliefs, his whole approach to living.
Perhaps it was the loss of everything that had given him this new clarity, or perhaps it had always been there waiting.
Either way, Hinata felt that to truly seize it he needed to answer a question he had never honestly answered before.
What is life, truly?
He had once believed that life was about following one’s own ideology and that beneath the eyes of heaven all lives were equal. But now, he was beginning to understand that belief was far from the truth.
If all life was equal, why was the poor man never born rich? Why were the weak yet righteous bullied, while the strong yet wicked ruled over all?
Hinata let out a quiet shrug. He had fancied himself a profound thinker when he’d built that ideology and had even pushed it onto others, but hadn’t doing that made him no better than the powerful who swallowed the weak whole?
Well... It didn’t matter anymore.
Ideologies were, in the end, just another way for people to dress up their hypocrisy.
Why persecute a demon for being a demon? To Hinata, that was simply the path the demon had chosen. At least a demon came out openly and wore its crimes plainly — while all those righteous ones committed theirs behind a facade of rules and noble principles.
To some extent, good and evil were not so far apart. The only real difference was the packaging.
So then what, truly, was life?
At that moment, a profound realization settled over Nishikawa Hinata.
Perhaps life was not some grand philosophy, nor a body of wisdom carved into ancient scripture.
Maybe life was just life.
Whether someone was old or young, poor or rich, demonic or righteous, they all lived beneath the same heavens.
What did it matter what background or roots a person came from? At the end of the day, they were all still living.
Discrimination, death, betrayal—these existed because people lived. Perhaps the right way forward was not to deny any of it, nor to try to change them like some god, but to simply accept life as it was.
The golden gate at the end of the vast sea seemed to pose the very same question Hinata had been asking himself.
Hearing its silent inquiry, he answered with a smile.
"Well, Mr. Door — life is just life. What else could it be?"
As if satisfied with his answer, the door groaned open and a brilliant light swept across his vision.
At the same moment, the clear chime of a system rang through his mind.
Ding!
[System log in successful.]
[Welcome back, host.]
[Updating new feature.]