Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill Chapter 644 Sleepy

Upon hearing the relentless thuds, Vritra and Maeve halted their steps. They moved nearer to the wall and spotted someone repeatedly bashing their head against it.

A vivid bloodstain marked the surface, leaving the pair stunned.

Approaching further, they gently pulled the figure away.

The individual turned out to be a man. Vritra scrutinized his features, sensing a vague familiarity—perhaps one of the people he'd saved before.

He let out a yawn yet continued gazing intently for several moments longer.

"You are…?" he inquired, as tears welled up in the man's eyes and he began mumbling softly.

"I- I don't want to live SOB my wife died out there… I SOB" he burst into sobs right away, looking utterly wretched.

Vritra's brow furrowed intensely; he racked his mind more fiercely, and the youthful visage grew increasingly recognizable.

"Wasn't your name something like… On- honest or something? Hmm you seem familiar…" Vritra's gaze sharpened even more, pushing his memory to its utmost.

Then came another yawn, his eyes shifting to the man's bloodied brow.

A squad of guards, drawn by the commotion, rushed over and eyed the scene curiously.

Out from the concealing darkness now, they stood exposed for the guards to view plainly.

Maeve briefly outlined what had occurred.

"Haa. Such tragedies occur far too often; folks simply can't endure losing their dear ones and choose to end it all.

But Sir, you must persist for your boy's sake—you can't rely on strangers to raise him, can you?" the guard stated firmly.

Turning to Vritra and Maeve, he added: "Rest easy, I'll escort him back to his shelter securely, and we'll ensure no repeat attempts."

"…" Vritra merely nodded, though the gnawing discomfort in his chest swelled stronger.

The guards departed, dragging the man with them, abandoning the duo behind.

"Master, let's head back; this spot gives me the creeps too."

Maeve urged, tugging his sleeve, eager to flee the camp immediately.

Vritra agreed with a nod, glancing at the crimson smear on the wall before lifting his eyes to the heavens, where a full moon gleamed brightly.

"The moon appears lovely tonight." He remarked casually, then strode off alongside Maeve.

A trickle of blood seeped from the stain, trickling down into the nearby gutter.

That night added yet another scar to the wall, blending with the countless scars already etched there.

As Vritra and Maeve strolled back to their shelter, they conversed lightly, intending to depart at dawn.

Naturally, he still had to grab a few vital items from the site; the thought of those outfits stirred some thrill in him.

Abruptly, he collided with another figure, startled that he'd overlooked someone right in his path.

"Sorry." Vritra muttered, pressing onward.

"You're back. Honey, did anything odd catch your eye?" Vanessa inquired, her face beaming with affection.

"Hmm, not entirely certain. We witnessed a fellow smashing his head against a wall—that's odd enough." He responded.

Following a brief exchange, they resolved to retire for the night, heading to their tent where the group halted at the entrance, lingering there blankly.

Their faces had grown vacant and listless.

***

Morning arrived, and Vritra stirred awake, more drained than ever.

Slipping out quietly to avoid waking his spouse, he cleaned up and resolved to visit the general.

Reaching Peter's quarters, he chatted with the sentry and at last gained entry to speak with the leader; when he requested uniforms, the general chuckled and consented.

Once he'd picked out the attire, the general invited him for a crucial discussion.

Vritra accepted but mentioned needing to eat breakfast beforehand.

He aimed to set off that very day.

Post-meal, Vritra conferred with Peter, learning of the impending mutant surge.

And he chose to lend aid.

They strategized briefly before the beasts swarmed in; united, they dispatched every last one.

Yet the hour had grown late, so Vritra opted to depart come morning.

Sharing supper with his kin, he then set out to patrol the outpost with Maeve, and afterward…

THUD THUD

***

The dread churning in Vritra's core thrashed violently, yet his form pressed forward mechanically, trapped in an endless loop.

Occasionally, Maeve experienced similar bewilderment; the band on her arm shimmered faintly, only for her recollections to fade away.

Once more, under the cover of night, Vritra and Maeve ventured out to survey the area.

"We'll linger here another day; a couple of essentials remain to collect." Vritra declared, his thoughts drifting to the form-fitting garb.

"Hehe. What schemes are brewing, master~" Maeve teased playfully, then froze suddenly, a nagging sense of déjà vu washing over her—like she'd uttered those words countless times.

"What's the matter?" Vritra pivoted to regard her, concern etching his features.

"I…" Maeve's expression twisted from puzzlement to terror; her mouth opened as she whispered hastily:

"S- Stat che- sta…" A yawn overtook her, replaced by a grin and a dismissive shake of her head.

'Stat? What's that supposed to signify?' A sharp ache pierced Vritra's skull, but they carried on regardless.

Encountering yet another soul frenziedly pounding their head, then retreating to rest.

Consulting Peter, claiming the outfits, joining the defense of the haven once more—they tarried too long and vowed to exit tomorrow.

Day by day, though, Vritra sensed his thoughts slicing like blades.

Exhaustion weighed on them heavily, as though sleep had evaded them for weeks on end.

…

Again, he roamed the perimeter with Maeve, scanning the environs.

"Hehe. What schemes are brewing, master~" Maeve teased playfully, then froze suddenly, that eerie repetition haunting her.

"What's the matter?" Vritra pivoted to regard her, concern etching his features.

"I…" Maeve's complexion drained of color, tremors wracking her frame.

In a flash, she unclasped the band from her wrist and fastened it onto Vritra's, while he stared at her perplexedly.

"What are you doing? That was meant for you now." He remarked, though he refrained from halting her, his reddened eyes dropping downward.

"Master, run-" Maeve yawned abruptly, her smile returning as she shook her head and clasped his hand.

Vritra's frown deepened; he peered at the band, a fog descending over his memories—erasing fragments, perhaps volumes.

'Stat…' That single term echoed persistently in his thoughts.

The thudding echoes reached him, amplifying the queasy sensation tenfold.

The band encircling his wrist hummed and emitted a soft glow, granting him a fleeting burst of sharpness.

"Stat!" The realization hit him like lightning, and he summoned the status interface.

『

[Stats]

(Strength: 49.2)

(Agility: 50.9)

(Endurance: 51.3)

(Spiritual: 35.9)

{Free Attribute: 10}

』

Every figure mirrored the prior readings without alteration; he puzzled over Maeve's intent until his attention snagged on the sin tally.

{Sin Points: 102,455}

'H- How can there be so many points? Didn't we just reach here today? It ought to be only 14,000!!' he cried inwardly, battling a surging drowsiness.

As his mind clouded further, he issued urgent directives in haste.

'Add all points to spiritual, draw 500 points rewards… use everything…'

YAWN

Forgetting it all in an instant, he grasped Maeve's hand and veered toward the source of the thuds.

A spectral wheel materialized before Vritra out of nowhere; bewilderment gripped him—had he triggered it somehow?

But then he stiffened as a soothing chill washed over his psyche, easing him into tranquility.

❖❖❖

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