Evan stood in the quiet park, the cool breeze brushing against his face as he practiced his movements. His body moved fluidly, each repetition increasing his speed and precision. Sweat dripped from his forehead, but he didn't stop. The more he practiced, the faster and sharper his movements became. After an intense session, he wiped his face, heading back to his apartment.
Once home, he took a refreshing bath, letting the cool water wash away his exhaustion. After dressing and packing the Black Blood Saber into a rectangular box, he prepared to head out.
Stepping out of the building, Evan glanced at the bustling city streets. "It's been a few months, and the Battle Academy opens in a week. I need to sell this saber," he muttered to himself.
He paused, his expression turning serious. "At first, I thought of using it, but if the Blood Clan traces it back to me or if the city guards find it, I'll be in trouble. It's best to sell it discreetly and make some returns."
Evan's feet carried him to a mall filled with small shops. Most sold cheap goods or second-hand materials, but he knew there were always a few black sheep among them. Weaving through the shops, he stopped at a stall selling food and beverages. Behind the counter sat a man wearing a cowboy hat, slouched on a chair as though guarding the shop.
Leaning closer, Evan whispered, "A deal to clear your debt and make a profit. Interested?"
The man, Marconi, didn't react at first. Then, with a sudden shift, he grinned. "Old man! My friend's here. Make some spicy noodles and a carbonated drink!"
The old shopkeeper snorted. "You? Friends? More like another debt collector!"
Marconi scowled. "I can have friends, you know!"
"Yeah, yeah. Sit at the corner."
Marconi gestured for Evan to follow him. They sat in the far corner, away from prying eyes.
"Alright, spill it. You're not joking, are you?" Marconi's tone was desperate. "If it's true, I'll call you my big brother. Just help me clear this debt!"
Evan smirked. He knew Marconi—miserable but cunning, a low-level hunter with countless shady connections. He could make any deal work as long as it turned a profit.
Evan placed the box on the table, carefully opening it. The saber's dark aura immediately drew Marconi's attention. His eyes widened, and he almost shouted, but Evan's sharp glare stopped him.
"Hey!" Marconi whispered. "Where did you get this? This thing's soaked in blood! And with the recent chaos, it must be tied to the Blood Clan. Don't you know how dangerous this is?"
"I know perfectly well," Evan replied calmly. "Now, can you sell it, or should I find someone else?"
"Joking! Of course, I can sell it!" Marconi grinned nervously. "How can you trust anyone else when your loyal little brother is here? But it'll take time. I can find you a rich buyer, no problem."
Marconi's grin turned manic, torn between laughter and tears. Evan guessed it was the weight of his debts finally easing. If this worked, Marconi might not have to skip town.
"I'm not looking for money," Evan said, sliding a list across the table. "I need these."
Marconi scanned the list, his grin fading. "Bro, some of these things… forget it. These three in particular are so rare they'll never show up in the market."
Evan expected this but pressed on. "Just try. I need something to mutate the Evil Eye into a variant."
Marconi scratched his head, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. "Bro, you've always had wild ideas, but this one? Out of these three items, the Cyclops Eye is a no-go. It's impossible to get. But…" He paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Instead of that, I can get you a Titan Ogre's Corrupted Heart."
Evan raised an eyebrow. "Corrupted Heart? What's the catch?"
Marconi leaned in, lowering his voice. "The City Lord's patrol encountered a Titan Ogre near the barren desert a few months back. They managed to bring it down, but while handling the corpse, they discovered something… odd. The heart was pierced by a poisoned arrow, which lowered its value as a material. But for mutation purposes, it should still be viable."
Evan tapped his fingers on the table, his mind racing. He knew the risks of using corrupted items for mutation. The results could be unpredictable, leading to unknown variations, both dangerous and beneficial. Still, the Titan Ogre was a higher-ranking monster than the Cyclops. The opportunity was tempting.
"Fine. Get it," Evan agreed, sealing the deal.
Marconi grinned, his excitement barely contained. "You've got it, big bro! I'll get everything sorted."
---
A few days later, Marconi returned as promised, carrying a cubic wooden box carefully wrapped with thick ropes. Inside it lay the Purple Titan Ogre Heart, its dark, pulsating surface emitting faint trails of corrupted energy. Some said consuming it could enhance vitality, but Evan grimaced at the very thought. "Eating this thing? No way," he muttered under his breath.
Marconi smirked. "Yeah, doesn't look appetizing, does it? Anyway, we're ready. I've got the mercenaries and a jeep lined up. Let's go bag ourselves an Evil Eye."
Their destination lay on the outskirts of the city, a desolate hunting ground known for its peculiar, floating creatures.
Evil Eyes were peculiar creatures, each with a grotesque single oversized eye surrounded by writhing tentacles that moved with an unsettling grace. These monsters floated silently through the air.
Despite their low rank and lack of direct offensive capabilities, Evil Eyes were far from harmless. Simply meeting their gaze could trigger dangerous effects—stunning their prey, inducing brief petrification, or even plunging the unfortunate into a state of hypnosis. Their real threat, however, lay in their numbers.
Evil Eyes often swarmed in vast groups, their collective influence amplifying their abilities. Their expansive perception range made them difficult to approach undetected.
As they bounced along the rugged road in the jeep, a mercenary seated near the edge-lit a cigarette and glanced at Evan. "Don't underestimate those things," he warned. "A single Evil Eye might be weak, but in numbers, they're deadly. There's a story of a village wiped out by a swarm of them. When they group in the thousands, they can produce a variant—smarter, more dangerous, and capable of working together. Even a high-rank fighter could be stall for few minutes"
Evan knew what it meant to stall a high-rank fighter even for a few minutes then he said "Then why not just wipe them out completely?" he asked, a tinge of curiosity in his voice.
Marconi chuckled and leaned back, his hat tipping slightly over his eyes. "Because they're useful, my friend. Their cores are valuable—used to create detection and magic camera artifacts. The market demand keeps them alive. As long as we control their population and prevent a variant from emerging, it's a win-win."
The jeep rattled to a halt as they neared their destination. The barren expanse stretched out before them, dotted with faint, flickering lights—the telltale glow of Evil Eyes drifting aimlessly in the twilight.
As planned, the group began their search, spending hours combing the outskirts of the hunting ground to locate a lone Evil Eye that had strayed from its group. Eventually, they spotted one drifting aimlessly, its eerie tentacles swaying as it floated.
The mercenaries sprang into action. Using a dead goblin's corpse, they carefully stuffed the Titan Ogre's corrupted heart inside and tossed the bait into the Evil Eye's vicinity. A short, wiry mercenary climbed to higher ground, positioning himself for a clear shot. With precision, he let loose an arrow aimed near the Evil Eye, deliberately missing to startle it.
The creature recoiled, its massive eye darting around in alarm. As expected, it bolted away from the perceived threat, drifting in the opposite direction. After confirming no pursuers, the Evil Eye slowed and eventually returned to its calm state.
Moments later, it discovered the carcass. As if driven by an instinctual hunger, the Evil Eye let out a faint, eerie hum and descended upon the goblin. Tentacles wrapped around the corpse, pulling it closer as it began to devour its tainted meal.
Minutes passed, and the effects of the corrupted heart began to take hold. The Evil Eye wavered mid-air, its movements sluggish and uncoordinated. With an almost drunken motion, it floated back towards its group, the corrupted energy coursing through it. Upon reaching the safety of its horde, the creature settled into a deep, unnatural slumber.
Evan and the mercenaries watched from a safe distance, their plan proceeding flawlessly so far. Now, all they could do was wait and see what changes the corruption would bring.
As time wore on, the mercenaries took turns keeping watch over the slumbering Evil Eye. The night air was heavy with tension, the group acutely aware of the potential danger their experiment posed. Around midnight, the changes began to manifest.
Under the dim moonlight, the Evil Eye's tentacles, once a dull black, started to shift in hue, transforming into a sinister dark purple. Its body grew visibly, swelling to nearly twice its original size, and the number of writhing appendages increased, adding to its grotesque form. The most striking transformation occurred in its massive eye. The once singular eyeball split into three distinct sections, each glowing faintly as the mutation progressed. The whites of its eye darkened, slowly turning into an inky black.
The group watched in grim fascination, unable to tear their eyes away. By the time two hours had passed, the transformation seemed complete. The Variant Evil Eye lay dormant for a moment longer before its tentacles twitched, and it began to stir.