The voice that called out to him was very familiar, and Murky instantly recognized it as the elder, the same elder who had fixed his disfigured Spartan body when he arrived in this nightmarish world of Alien versus Progenitors.
Murky smiled wryly as he responded to the elder's presence.
"This old fella," he amusedly mumbled.
He couldn't help but wonder what expression adorned the elder's face at this moment, although he had his own suspicions about the reason behind the elder's call.
Still, he decided to keep his thoughts to himself, letting curiosity simmer between them.
"Oh... elder," Murky replied with amusement in his voice.
"How are you? Are you watching me through this device? You old peeping bastard."
Murky asked, mixing playfulness with intrigue.
Meanwhile, the elder's name was Mortimer, and he found himself sweating profusely.
He now stood exposed before everyone, feeling the weight of their collective gaze upon him.
Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he struggled to remain composed.
"Hey," the elder began, sounding a bit uneasy.
He actually didn't know what to say.
"I can't believe you've been observing me all this time, elder. I wonder what your intentions are? Or maybe you're plotting something against me? Old man, you are a pervert."
Murky's voice echoed from the other end, combining calmness and sarcasm.
Red faced with embarrassment, Mortimer shook his head, even though Murky couldn't see the gesture, and replied, "No, not at all. I was just curious about your abilities, so I watched for my own amusement," he said, his voice trembling with anxiety.
His teeth were even touching each other.
Mortimer knew that the other elders were now online and listening to their conversation, judging him with their gazes.
Although the truth was clear, he desperately searched for an alternative explanation to maintain his facade.
After all, they all still lacked concrete evidence, at least for now.
Meanwhile, Murky contemplated the reason behind the elder Progenitor's trembling voice.
His gaze shifted to the mangled remains of the first two Progenitors he had killed, their broken hips and upper bodies serving as a grim reminder of his actions.
Soon something came to his head, like a spark of idea or understanding. Then, a wicked smile appeared on Murky's face, his eyes shining with a sadistic desire to revel in the elder's suffering.
Instead of pressing the issue, Murky chose to manipulate the elder, relishing the opportunity to exert power over him.
"Oh..."
Murky exclaimed, brimming with enthusiasm.
"I remember now," he added, savoring the effect his words had on the elder.
Murky knew that, despite the elder's shock, they were both mere participants in this realm of nightmares.
With a calculated move, Murky fabricated a story to help the elder.
"I recall a bet between us," Murky continued, oozing confidence.
"We wagered that I would defeat all your elite warriors, and you swore on your honor code to witness it firsthand and then you will reward me with you know— Remember?"
Murky posed the question, fully aware of the elder's skepticism.
The elder face on the other end was like seeing a ghost.
However, surrounded by his peers and feeling their presence, the elder could only nod helplessly, momentarily putting aside his doubts.
Whatever it was, he could only nod for now.
Elder Mortimer's main concern was keeping his actions hidden from his peers.
He believed that as long as he remained undiscovered, everything would be fine.
That's why he had called Murky earlier, asking him to stop and not throw the communication devices.
At first, Mortimer didn't care about why Murky was doing all this. But Murky's constant provocation and insults targeting Mortimer's race and honor had worn down Mortimer's patience.
So everytime Murky killed an animal made Mortimer's blood boil.
He reached a point where he felt worthless if he didn't get rid of this troublesome human. And he made a personal vow that he wouldn't rest until he saw Murky dead. But first, he needed to find the source of his attacks so his clansman would defeat Murky.
So elder Mortimer had been tirelessly searching for the source of Murky's attacks through the communication device on the hounds, growing angrier each time Murky mercilessly killed test subjects, whether they were animals or other living beings.
So now, even a little, Mortimer's anger only grew whenever he failed to identify where Murky's attacks were coming from.
"Yes, indeed, we made a bet and came to an agreement," the elder Progenitor replied, trying to align himself with Murky's words.
He saw no reason to resist, thinking that agreeing with Murky wouldn't put him in a difficult situation or expose him to the scrutiny of his fellow elders, who were currently listening to their conversation.
However, Murky's mention of honor struck Mortimer as odd, but he chose to ignore it, considering it unimportant.
"You mentioned that if I killed or absorbed the blood of your elite newborn Progenitors, or at least fifty creatures, I would permanently gain control over those hounds, right?"
Murky's voice came from the other side.
Those words stunned Mortimer, leaving him shocked and unable to speak.
So this was the honor this bastard human was speaking of.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, Murky struggled to hold back his laughter. But he managed to regain his composure, knowing that he was far from finished.
He was just getting started. "You despicable person," Murky silently seethed, directing his thoughts at the elder.
"You ordered these hounds to disrespect me, spit on me, to bury me in the dirt. I will never forget what you've done to me. I will make sure to get my revenge!".
A wicked smile appeared and grew on Murky's face as he contemplated his next move.
Murky understood the immense importance of the Nematoceran hounds among the Progenitors.
That's why when he received them, he couldn't help but be amazed.
Was it really that easy?
Just because he was considered the ultimate prey? But soon, he realized it was more like something from a movie.
So even if he managed to kill and absorb the essence of fifty creatures, awakening the Nanomites within him and gaining control over the hounds, it wouldn't mean much.
The power he held would be insignificant in the grand scheme of things for these old hags and old hoogs.
Elder Mortimer, meanwhile, grappled with confusion, questioning how Murky knew about honor.
"Did I really say that? How does this kid know about honor?"
The elder muttered to himself.
Just as he was about to threaten Murky on how he knew about the honor, a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Old man Mortimer, I never expected you to give something so valuable to a human. Are you feeling unusually generous in your old age?"
The voice was mocking, making Mortimer feel embarrassed in response to the praise or perhaps the implied question.
Soon after, another voice chimed in, providing more context. "Ah, maybe it's because in the last survival game on a human-inhabited planet, Mortimer's Blood Claw clan achieved a high rank, with most of their elite members surviving. So this time, Mortimer wants the challenge to be even tougher, and he chose that guy because he believes he can give his own clan and others a harder time."