Call me Akuma

In an empty white room, there was an old man wearing a suit and tie. From the look of it, he seemed like a British office worker or a butler. Beside him, a young man who appeared to be in his mid-20s was lying unconscious on the floor, wearing only hospital gowns.

"Sir, if you would be so kind as to awaken, please," I heard a voice trying to wake me up. I slowly opened my eyes and saw an old man in his 70s, wearing a suit and tie, calling me. I asked him politely, "Who the fuck are you, old man, and where is that beautiful nurse?"

I looked around and saw only the empty white room and the man in the suit. Wasn't I supposed to be in the hospital? How did I get here? From the look of it, it seems I've been kidnapped. Is he here to torture me? It must be because of that password I stole from the underworld boss. Now he's dead; maybe his underlings want the password. Before I could continue my thoughts,

the man in the suit interrupted me and spoke. "Now that you've awoken, would you be so kind as to provide me with your name, please?"

Is this a new way to torture people by being overly polite? Well, if you want to play that kind of game, then I'll be overly impolite. Either way, I will die, so why not make your life a little bit miserable before I go?

"Old man, from the look of it, you seem like a corporate slave who licks his boss's ass all day. At least wear proper clothes that make you look a little bit scary when you're in the torturing profession."

The man in the suit looked a little amused and spoke, "Sir, I'm not here to torture you. You passed away in the hospital, and I am here to escort you to your next life."

What kind of bullshit is this guy speaking? In my anger, I clenched my fist. What the hell? How could I have both of my hands when my left hand was amputated two years ago? And how can I move my hands? Didn't the doctor tell me that I had tetraplegia after I fell from the third floor? What the fuck is going on here?

"Sir, if you would please remain calm."

I must be dreaming... but it feels so real. No, this can't be a dream. Maybe it's the painkillers—a hallucination—but even then, why does it feel so real? I must figure out what's happening here.

"Could you give me your hand so I can get up?"

Before the old man extended his hand, he said to me, "Sir, please refrain from biting off my arm vessels to kill me. Also, please do not harm yourself; you are neither dreaming nor hallucinating from having Hydromorphone."

Even after being told not to bite the arm, the young man still bit the hand of the man in the suit and tie. After noticing that he couldn't even leave a scratch on the man's arm, he bit his own arm as well, but there was no scratch on it either. Determined to test the limits, he then got up and broke his arm, but even after his hand bent at a 90° angle, he felt no pain. In a few seconds, his arm returned to its original position.

"From the look of it, old man, you are telling the truth, or I am really hallucinating. But I have no symptoms of hallucinating, and even if I did, it wouldn't be this severe just from taking Hydromorphone. Besides, I'm not feeling any pain, even when I break my arm. Maybe I am having a severe hallucination." Before I could continue speaking, the old man in the suit snapped his fingers, and instantly, I felt all the pain from biting my arm and breaking it, as well as the pain from my back surgery, all at once.

My body convulsed and collapsed under the weight of agony. "AAAAAAAHH!!! Make it stop, you old fucking fart! Make it stop!"

I kept yelling at him, but even after a few minutes, he didn't stop the pain. I started cursing his fifty generations of family, including his dog and cat, but still, he didn't stop the pain. Instead, he intensified it fiftyfold. I was helpless to do anything. My screams turned hoarse; my curses became more desperate. After suffering for a few hours, my heartbeat skyrocketed. The vessels in my arm popped like a spider web. My body was shaking uncontrollably from the severe pain, and I was growing paler by the minute. I started to wonder why the hell I wasn't dead after experiencing such agony. Then, the man spoke.

"Excuse me, sir, might you now be inclined to believe me?"

Because of the pain, I could barely speak, but somehow, I mustered my strength and spoke to him.

"Believe!... Stop..."

Finally, the old man snapped his fingers again, and all the intolerable pain I had experienced vanished as if it had never been there. I glanced at him, and at that moment, I remembered the same helplessness I had felt when Luisa died. Deep inside me, an anger rose like a tsunami. The anger was so intense that it felt like my skin was peeling apart, my eyes shedding tears of blood, and my nose bleeding. My thoughts were in chaos, swirling with anger, confusion, and desperation.

"Fucking shit! Again! AND AGAIN! And AGAIN!!! WHY! I am SO FUCKING helpless! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! FUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!! Why am I so helpless every fucking time in my life?! JUST! WHY! WHY! Why! Why why- just why."

The old man watched me with a calm detachment, his eyes revealing nothing. I just wanted to tear his face apart for all my grievances. Yet, deep down, I recognized my own powerlessness against him. He served as nothing more than a stark reminder of my helplessness.

"Why?" I whispered, my voice hoarse and broken. "Why am I so helpless? What did I do to deserve this?"

The old man finally spoke, his voice soft but carrying an undeniable weight. "Helplessness is simply part of the human experience," he said. "It serves as a reminder of our limitations, our need for others, and the fragility of life. Yet, it is also an invitation to rise above, to find strength in vulnerability, and to forge resilience through suffering."

His words pierced through the haze of my anger, striking a chord within me. I wanted to reject them, to cling to my rage, but something in his tone forced me to listen.

"You have faced unimaginable pain," he continued, "and yet, you are still here. That is not helplessness. That is endurance. It is the mark of someone who has battled against the darkness and refused to be consumed."

I looked up at him, my vision blurred by blood. "Old man, you're strong; that's why you can afford to use such fancy words. What you say is true: helplessness is a part of the human experience. So, from now on, I will forsake my humanity. Only the weak endure; the strong take. Only the weak have limitations; the strong know no bounds. Only the weak need others; the strong stand alone. And only the weak suffer."

With determination, I rose from the ground and made a solemn vow to myself:

"I will become so strong that others will feel helpless in my presence."

As I wiped the blood from my eyes and nose, I caught a glimpse of disappointment flickering across the old man's face at my declaration. However, it quickly faded, and soon his expression returned to its customary calm and collected demeanor.

"May I have your name, sir?" the old man asked. I was a bit confused and replied, "Old man, it seems you already know my name. Why bother asking? Also, it's not polite to request someone else's name before introducing yourself." For the first time, I saw a faint smile grace the old man's face as he introduced himself with a nod. "I am the Angel of the Afterlife. I have no name; you may call me whatever you wish," the old man stated calmly. "The reason I asked for your name is that the human named Rafael has passed away in the hospital. Now, may I kindly ask, what is your name?"

I opened my mouth and addressed the old man, "Are you sure that you're not a devil?" The mention of the devil's name seemed to upset him momentarily, but he quickly responded, "No, sir, I'm not a devil." With a mischievous smile, I retorted, "That is what a devil would say." At that moment, I saw the old man raising his hand again, but before he could continue, I hastily added, "I believe you!" Finally, the old man put his hand down and said strongly:

"Name, please," the old man requested. After pondering for a moment, I decided on a new name that suited me. "Call me Akuma," I replied confidently.

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The Beggar King is asking for stones to feed his family. 

Also, Beggar King has left a few pop culture references and memes. If you find them, comment, and Beggar King will give you a like.