"Huh?"
A deep, low voice broke the silence, cutting through the still air like a blade. Everyone in the room instinctively turned their heads toward the source.
At the doorway stood a young man. His face was strikingly handsome, his expression calm and detached, as if the chaos that had just unfolded had absolutely nothing to do with him. His arrival was so sudden, so unannounced, it was as if he had materialized out of thin air.
"Wait, what? There's another guy here?" The short, stocky man frowned, his tone laced with irritation and confusion.
But the three girls and the security guard inside the room froze in place, their faces drained of color. Their eyes widened in sheer terror, their minds racing with questions they couldn't answer.
There wasn't anyone else here before.
How did he get in?
A collective gasp filled the room as a chill ran down their spines. The young man standing before them—was he even human? Or… something else entirely?
The tall, lanky man, however, remained unfazed.
He had killed more people than he could count. Death no longer meant anything to him—it was just another part of the job.
A man suddenly showing up out of nowhere?
Just another target.
"Another guy? Easy. Just kill him." The tall man sneered, his lips curling into a cold smile as he began to stride toward Ethan, completely unaware that he was walking straight into his own doom.
"Kid, you're dressed pretty clean for someone about to die." His grin widened, a glint of cruelty flashing in his eyes. "Say goodbye."
Before the words had fully left his mouth, he lunged forward, throwing a punch aimed directly at Ethan's jaw.
This wasn't just any punch—it carried the full force of his Awakener abilities, enough to shatter the bones of any ordinary person with ease.
But Ethan didn't move. He didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He stood there, perfectly still, his eyes glinting with an eerie red light.
And then, something impossible happened.
The tall man's fist passed straight through Ethan's body.
"Wha—what the hell?"
The man froze, his mocking grin vanishing in an instant, replaced by a look of utter disbelief. He stared down at his own hand, which had clearly connected with its target—yet it felt like he had punched nothing but air.
Ethan's body seemed… intangible. It was right there in front of him, but completely untouchable, as if it wasn't even real.
What kind of monster is this?
A wave of unease surged through the tall man's chest. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and for the first time, fear flickered in his eyes.
The others in the room were just as stunned. They stared at Ethan, their faces pale, their minds struggling to process what they had just witnessed.
This man—this thing—was definitely not normal.
Before the tall man could recover, Ethan moved. His hand rose with a deliberate, almost lazy motion, and in his palm, a dagger appeared out of thin air, its blade gleaming with a cold, deadly light.
The movement was swift, precise, and merciless. The dagger plunged straight into the tall man's chest.
But the most horrifying part wasn't the strike itself—it was what happened next.
No blood spilled from the wound. Not a single drop.
The tall man's expression froze, his pupils dilating as his body stiffened. He staggered backward, his mouth opening as if to speak, but no sound came out. A moment later, he collapsed to the floor, lifeless.
Ethan calmly withdrew the dagger, his movements unhurried, almost methodical. He glanced down at the corpse, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if admiring a piece of art he had just completed.
This was one of the abilities of his Domain of the Dead.
The dagger hadn't just pierced the man's chest—it had ripped out his very heart.
Ethan twirled the blade in his hand with practiced ease, the weapon glinting as it spun. Then, without hesitation, he crouched down, plunging the dagger back into the man's chest. With surgical precision, he carved out the still-warm heart.
The heart was fresh, vibrant, and still faintly pulsing. Steam rose from its surface, and droplets of blood slid down the blade, hitting the floor with soft, rhythmic splashes.
"G-Ghost… he's a ghost!"
The remaining people in the room finally broke. Their composure shattered, and they descended into panic. Their bodies trembled uncontrollably, their faces ashen. Even the short, stocky man, who had been so cocky and arrogant just moments ago, was now shaking like a leaf, his legs threatening to give out beneath him.
Ethan, however, paid no attention to their terror.
He studied the heart in his hand with a critical eye, his brow furrowing slightly, as if disappointed by what he saw.
"The blood of an Awakener... not exactly pure," Ethan muttered to himself, his tone laced with disdain. "And their energy? Nothing special either."
With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the heart aside like it was a piece of worthless trash.
But then, his gaze shifted to the corpse's head, and a flicker of excitement lit up his eyes.
"Didn't the authorities say that an Awakener's power comes from the Neurocore in their skull?"
He crouched down, gripping his dagger tightly. Without hesitation, he drove the blade into the corpse's forehead, slicing through the skull with practiced precision.
With a faint pop, a small, round mass emerged from the opened skull.
The object was no larger than a thumb, smooth to the touch, and faintly fragrant.
Ethan plucked it out, bringing it to his nose for a sniff. A satisfied glint flashed in his eyes.
"Now this... this is something."
Without a second thought, he placed the Neurocore into his mouth and bit down gently.
The taste was unexpectedly exquisite—sweet and juicy, like the first bite of a perfectly ripe cherry. At the same time, a warm surge of energy flowed from the Neurocore, spreading rapidly through his body. The sensation was indescribably pleasant, like a wave of pure comfort washing over him.
"Shame..." Ethan clicked his tongue, a hint of regret in his voice. "One Neurocore just isn't enough."
He licked his lips, savoring the lingering taste, his expression betraying a hunger that hadn't been fully satisfied.
Slowly, his gaze shifted to the short, stocky man in the corner.
The man froze, his entire body trembling as if he'd just been locked in the sights of a predator. His chubby face quivered uncontrollably, and his eyes were wide with terror.
His legs buckled beneath him, barely able to hold him upright, but the primal instinct to survive kicked in. Letting out a panicked scream, he turned and bolted for the door.
"No! Don't kill me! Please, don't kill me!"
He stumbled and scrambled, practically crawling toward the exit in his desperation. His hands fumbled clumsily at the doorknob, shaking so badly he could barely grip it.
But just as his fingers brushed the handle, a sharp whoosh cut through the air behind him.
Ethan's figure appeared like a phantom, his movements impossibly fast. His long, slender fingers pierced the back of the man's skull with the precision of a blade.
"Squelch!"
The man's body went rigid, his eyes bulging wide as his mouth opened in a silent scream. He twitched violently for a moment before collapsing to the ground like a lifeless heap of flesh.
Ethan withdrew his hand slowly, now holding another faintly glowing Neurocore in his palm.
"What a hassle," he muttered under his breath, kicking the man's corpse aside as if it were nothing more than a discarded object.
He popped the Neurocore into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. A faint smile spread across his face.
"Not bad."
In just a few minutes, Ethan had effortlessly dispatched two Awakeners. His movements were swift, efficient, and utterly devoid of unnecessary emotion.
The remaining survivors in the room were paralyzed with fear. Huddled together in a corner, they trembled violently, their faces pale and their eyes filled with despair.
"Please... don't kill us!"
"We didn't do anything! Please, just let us go!"
"P-please..." One of them broke into sobs, their voice shaking uncontrollably. None of them even dared to run. They pressed themselves against the cold wall, as if trying to melt into it and disappear.
Ethan's cold gaze swept over them, devoid of pity or compassion. He began to walk toward them, his footsteps slow and deliberate. The survivors flinched with every step, retreating further until their backs were pressed firmly against the wall, leaving them nowhere to go.
"Hmm..." Ethan murmured, as if deep in thought.
After a few seconds, he gave a small nod, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. "I won't kill you."
"R-really?"
The group froze, their expressions a mix of disbelief and cautious hope. They exchanged uncertain glances, unable to comprehend why this man—this monster—would suddenly spare them.
Ethan's lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"What? Do I look like some kind of devil to you?"
The room fell silent.
No one dared to answer.
The survivors opened their mouths, but no words came out. Their expressions were stiff, clearly filled with doubt about Ethan's words.
Just then, a low, ominous wind howled outside the building, carrying with it a foul, metallic stench that filled the air.
"Awooo—!"
A piercing wolf howl shattered the silence of the night, filled with rage and bloodlust. The sound was so sharp it made their eardrums ache.
The old security guard's face turned ashen. His body began to tremble violently, and his voice came out hoarse and desperate: "Damn it! We were too loud... we've drawn that thing here!"
"Thing?" Ethan raised an eyebrow, turning his head toward the door.
Through the gaps in the steel bars blocking the entrance, he saw a pair of crimson eyes glaring into the room. The eyes were as large as lightbulbs, glowing with a bloodthirsty intensity that radiated suffocating pressure.
"It's here… that mutated beast!" a girl whimpered, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. "It ate all the animals in the zoo, and now it's coming for us!"
"Boom!"
Before she could finish, the walls of the room shook violently, sending dust cascading from the ceiling.
"Bang! Bang!"
The sound of heavy impacts followed, each one louder than the last. The steel bars blocking the entrance began to bend and warp, screeching as the metal twisted under immense force.
"Crash!"
Finally, the wall gave way, crumbling into rubble as a massive hole was torn open.
A monstrous beast pushed its way through the opening—a two-headed giant wolf.
The creature stood over seven feet tall, its hulking frame larger than a yak. Its body was covered in jet-black fur that bristled like steel needles, each strand sharp and menacing. But the most horrifying feature was its two heads, each with a pair of glowing crimson eyes that burned with malice. Its dagger-like fangs dripped with thick, viscous saliva, pooling on the ground beneath it.
"Roar—!"
The twin-headed wolf let out a deafening roar, a sound filled with rage and cruel delight.
The old security guard gritted his teeth, raising the hunting rifle in his trembling hands. He pulled the trigger.
"Bang!"
A tranquilizer dart shot out, aimed directly at the wolf's head.
But the beast's fur was as tough as steel. The dart bounced off harmlessly, clattering to the ground.
The old man's face fell, his voice trembling with despair. "It's over… we don't stand a chance against this thing…"
The wolf seemed enraged by the attack. It smashed through the rest of the wall, forcing its massive body into the room. Its four crimson eyes locked onto the survivors, and a cruel, predatory grin spread across its twin faces.
"Run! Run now!" the old man shouted, stepping in front of the group. "I'm old anyway. Let it take me first!"
But the survivors were too terrified to move. Their legs felt like they were made of lead, rooted to the spot as they stared at the beast in paralyzed horror.
At that moment, just as the wolf prepared to lunge, Ethan stepped forward. His calm gaze fell on the monstrous creature, his expression unreadable. There wasn't a trace of fear in his eyes—only a faint glimmer of curiosity.
"I wonder…" he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "What does wolf meat taste like?"
"Huh?"
The survivors froze, their faces blank with disbelief. Did he just… talk about eating it?
The twin-headed wolf growled low, both heads lowering as it focused on Ethan. Its massive body loomed over him like a mountain, exuding an overwhelming sense of danger.
But Ethan didn't flinch. He stood there, calm and composed, as if the beast before him was nothing more than a stray dog.
"Domain of the Dead, activate."
His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but the moment the words left his lips, his eyes flared with a brilliant crimson light.
In the next instant, a blood-red aura erupted from beneath his feet, spreading outward like a tide.
The entire room was engulfed in the eerie, oppressive glow of his domain.