Cameraman Never Dies - Chapter 8: Teleportation for Babies: Judge’s New Bedtime Story

The world is in an age of change between the old and the new society, and the collision of politics, economy, thought and culture is becoming more and more violent.

Moster Verak, a photographer from the slums of Zward City, was reborn two months ago, starting from impersonating the son of a consortium again, stirring everything and subverting the world in the turmoil of rapid industrial development and wild expansion of ambition.

[Overhead world, please do not compare reality]

- Description from novelbuddy

The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else.

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me.

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death.

My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

……………………………………………………………

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The Heavenly Dao exists.

It decides what is right and what is wrong. To act against it is to sin, to act according to it is to be blessed by its graces.

The world of cultivation is difficult, an unchanging principle. Yet there are those who are cherished by the Heavens, cuddled into rising above all and everyone else. How can this be? Why must this be?

What is moral and just? What is evil and immoral?!

WHY DOES IT GET TO DECIDE?!

So we, the Sinners, we act against the Heavenly Daos, grasp our own fates in hopes of truly overturning them.

This is a Journey of a young boy born Blessed, but turned Sinner.

The greatest sinner of them all.

[Can the devil’s music bring happiness to the world?]From Jimmy Hendrix to Rachmaninoff, all the historical musicians who he meets in his dreams.The devil that presents itself as a little boy in love with singing.The devil’s blessing, given to such a tiny child.In the blessings of many devils,The boy’s song for the world begins.