But this time, after a few seconds, he didn't end up back on his bedroom floor. He kept falling, further and further down into the endless abyss. Mike saw only darkness, but he could clearly feel the knife in his hand. He could also feel that this wasn't the end—no, not at all! Mike's lips moved, then formed into a smile.
"This is only the beginning."
Mike closed his eyes and lost consciousness.
He felt himself land on something, and mysteriously, he survived. Mike slowly opened his eyes and found his head resting on a table. He lifted his head and saw that he was sitting on a chair. He looked around, but his vision was blurry. In the distance, he saw only a vague blur, but he noticed a white light and realized he was in a larger room.
"T-that reminds me of a classroom…"
As Mike finished speaking those words, his vision and hearing improved. And then he saw…
"STUDENTS! You must take the last few weeks seriously!"
Mike rubbed his eyes, but he wasn't mistaken—he was in a classroom. The teacher looked to be in her mid-thirties and was talking about the last week and the exam. Mike looked closer and noticed a flying notebook behind the teacher. He jumped up in shock. Looking around briefly, he saw that his desk neighbor had a flying axe.
"W-what the—"
Mike ran toward the classroom door and stepped out. The teacher's voice echoed after him:
"W-where are you goi—"
Mike ran out into what looked like a school hallway. He saw lockers, classrooms, and many teenagers his age, but objects were flying after people everywhere. He saw a trash can chasing someone, a pair of scissors, even a rock. As Mike kept looking around and noticing more, a girl spoke to him. Her skin was pink, her hair purple, and she had red spots on her cheek. Behind her, a phone was floating.
"Hey, are you okay? You don't look so good—more like scared," she said.
Mike wanted to speak, but only a "hichs" came out. He couldn't talk.
"Has someone used magic on you or something?" she laughed, looking cute.
In Mike's thoughts: What is happening here?
There's no time… wait, I have an idea.
Mike tried again to speak:
"W-what's your name?"
"I'm Queley. You don't know me?" Queley burst out laughing.
Mike had the perfect plan to find out what was going on. He repeated the words,
"Queley… nice name!" Mike forced a smile.
Queley fell silent and just looked at Mike. After a few seconds, Mike said,
"Okay, where's the bathroom?"
Queley thought Mike was joking, but after a long pause, she realized he wasn't and pointed to a door with a strange symbol—more like a letter.
"Queley, what does that say?"
"Man, are you really okay?"
Queley stepped closer to Mike, looking at him with surprise.
"This isn't normal. What happen—who is she talking to?"
The phone behind her moved and almost seemed happy, circling around her. Mike had to know what was going on.
"Okay, Queley, come on."
He took her hand and went to the bathroom she had pointed to seconds earlier.
The bathrooms looked normal. Mike entered a stall and locked it with Queley inside. Queley looked around; she seemed uncomfortable, but Mike started to speak.
"Queley, I—I think I was… I don't know… teleported here to this world. And don't think I'm crazy!"
Queley just stared at Mike, almost focused on him, so he continued:
"Okay, look—before my… well, teleportation, I went through strange things. And yeah, I have a lot of questions. First of all, where are we?"
Queley suddenly looked amused, as if she enjoyed Mike's words. She looked at him for a moment and said,
"Y-you're what? That is sooo cool! But where did you get that—"
Queley pointed at Mike, and he didn't understand. But when Mike turned around, he saw behind him a knife flying through the air.
"Oh no… the knife…"
"That's it!" Mike shouted.
"The knife is following me!"
Mike raised his hand and swung at the knife, trying to throw it away, but the knife dodged.
"Wow, you should be careful. Hey, what's your name?"
"I'm Mike."
"Good, Mike. What you have there is a legendary item. The magic you have with it is very useful. How has no one noticed this?"
Queley finished her sentence and waited for Mike's answer. Mike, standing at the end of the stall, pressed himself against the wall, keeping a lot of distance from the knife. The knife floated in place, almost as if it didn't care what was going on.
"Queley, where am I? And legendary… what?"
Queley took a deep breath.
"Alright, so you're from another world, yeah?"
"Yes!"
Mike's expression relaxed a little, and he felt understood.
"Okay, then let's help each other. You just need to know three things: I'm a demon, I'm a legendary item user, and—what are items? Alright, Mike…"
Queley sat down on the toilet lid and took a breath.
"Items are basically magic here. Every item has different abilities and a certain amount of magic. There are normal, rare, and legendary ones. There are estimated to be about 500 people in the world who own a legendary item, and we are two of them."
Queley pointed at her floating phone and at the floating knife.
"These are legendary."
Mike tilted his head.
"So only 500 people have a phone?"
Queley couldn't hold back her laughter. Mike saw her sweet, innocent smile again. She looked about the same age as Mike—15 or 16—and was above-average in looks. But… a demon? What did that mean? Had Mike's body changed? And items are magic?
This was too much for Mike, but Queley continued,
"No, not only 500 people have a phone—just a few have a phone that's a magic item. Okay, listen—you know enough for now to survive. We should go to class."
As Queley stood up, Mike grabbed her arm and stopped her.
"H-hey, I still have a question."
Queley blushed, and Mike noticed he was holding her arm.
"O-oh, sorry." Mike smiled awkwardly. But he brushed away any romantic thoughts and focused on his last question.
"You… you're a demon?"
Queley nodded.
"Yes, I am. And my mother too, my father as well. Actually, we're one of the last demon families."
Queley stopped and said,
"Okay, we'll meet in front of the academy."
She left. Mike also left the stall but stayed in the bathroom a little longer. He looked at himself in the mirror and noticed he looked exactly the same as before—brown hair, blue eyes.
"So, I didn't get any more handsome. Shame!"
Mike heard a toilet flush, and a disturbing face emerged, staring at him. It was a boy—he must have heard everything. Mike realized it and knew he would cause trouble.
His knife floated toward him, just watching him. Mike began to understand what his task was. The boy saw Mike's blood-red eyes and tried to run. Mike grabbed the boy by the hood.
"Hold on—don't you want to wash your hands?"
Mike stretched out one hand while holding the boy with the other. The knife flew into Mike's hand, radiating a threatening aura. Mike moved quickly, and the boy's lifeless body slipped from his grasp. But the blood was absorbed into the knife. The blood floated in the air, flowing into the blade, but a small amount stayed at the tip.
The knife flew to the wall and wrote:
"It makes me stronger."
When the words were finished and Mike read them, the remaining blood also went into the knife. The boy's lifeless body dissolved as well.
"I understand."