The fake Olian's grin stretched unnaturally wide, his lips curling with cruel amusement.
"The real Olian? Oh, what do you think? Of course, he's dead." His voice slithered through the underground lot, dripping with sadistic delight.
Sylara's breath hitched. Her grip on her panthosword tightened. "You bastard!" she snarled, her voice a venomous growl. "Why did you do such a thing? Who the hell are you?! Why are you pretending to be one of my members?!"
The creature wearing Olian's face tilted his head, chuckling darkly. "I don't owe you an explanation." He waved a dismissive hand. "However… since you'll all be dead soon anyway, I'll be generous." His grin widened, his dark eyes gleaming with malice.
"I was the one who slaughtered your precious members in that evolved dungeon. The one who woke the Troll King. The one who carved off this guy named Olian's face and wore it."
Sylara's heart pounded. Rage boiled beneath her skin, her body trembling with fury.
The imposter took a step forward, his voice sinking into a low, guttural whisper. "I am what you STARS and humans fear the most. I am the darkness lurking in your nightmares. I am what you are afraid to face."
His aura flared, thick and oppressive, a suffocating wave of malice drowning the space around them. His pupils pulsed with a red glow, a twisted manifestation of the abyss within him.
"I am a Demonic Human."
A deafening silence followed.
Sylara's world spun for a moment. The realization struck like a dagger to the gut.
A Demonic Human—one of the most terrifying beings in the new earth, if they could even be called human. A monstrosity that blurred the line between humanity and nightmare.
Her violet eyes, wide with shock and fury, flicked toward Akira. She expected him to move, to lunge forward in an explosion of unrestrained violence. To cut this abomination down in a fit of rage, as he had done before when something about his past was mentioned or stood before him.
But when her gaze met Akira's—Her breath caught.
He was utterly calm.
His pupils had turned white, gleaming like molten ice, piercing through the darkness with an unreadable stillness.
No fury. No outburst. No explosive violence. Just cold, calculating intent.
And that—That terrified her more than anything.
The underground lot stood in suffocating silence, the weight of the Demonic Human's presence pressing down on everyone like an iron grip. Yet, amidst that crushing aura, one voice cut through it like a blade.
"Did you finish?"
Akira's words were calm, eerily so. Cold and precise, as if the entire situation was nothing more than an inconvenience.
Sylara's breath hitched. Her eyes widened further, unable to believe what she was seeing. The Demonic Human—who had just revealed himself in all his horrifying glory, who had just declared himself a nightmare to them—was being met with absolute indifference.
The imposter faltered for a moment, his face twisting with irritation. "What?"
"I asked if you finished already." Akira's voice didn't change, his glowing white pupils fixed on the creature before him.
The Demonic Human's lips curled, his rage barely contained. "You dare say that? Do I look like a mere nuisance to you? Do you not understand that your heads will roll if I so much as will it?"
His aura spiked violently, a sickening, oppressive force meant to instill fear.
Akira, unshaken, simply tilted his head slightly. "Of course, that's exactly what you are. A damn nuisance."
The words hung in the air like a guillotine.
A mocking smirk played on Akira's lips as he leaned slightly forward. "And since I'm right before you… why don't you come and get my head?"
The Demonic Human's eyes twitched, disbelief flashing across his face before twisting into amusement. "Tch… You're either fearless or too damn stupid. Do you even know how many of you so-called STARS have actually killed a Demonic Human before?" His grin widened, teeth bared like a predator. "Or better yet—how many have survived fighting one?"
A stillness crept into the room.
Then, Akira's white pupils flared.
Emotionless. Hollow. Almost… taunting.
A smirk tugged at his lips, his head tilting ever so slightly. "What are you talking about?" His voice, a razor-thin whisper, sent a cold chill through the air. "I already killed one not long ago."
Silence.
Sylara's breath caught in her throat. Her head snapped toward Akira, eyes blown wide.
The Demonic Human's entire demeanor shifted. His expression twisted from smug amusement to rigid disbelief. His crimson pupils shrank, his jaw locking. "Lies," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "That's bullshit. I know about you—a B-rank nobody—are claiming to have killed a Demonic Human? Lies! I would have known! We would have—"
Akira cut him off with a slow, almost bored sigh. He raised a single finger and pointed at himself. "I think you did get the news, didn't you? About one of your kind vanishing—without a trace?" His voice was smooth, sharp. "No body. No remains. Just… gone." The boy was either bluffing or suggesting something, since the demonic humans were much stronger and very different from the Stars. Their numbers weren't as great as those of the awakened humans, but he thought that when some of them vanished in Seoul, they would notice.
The Demonic Human stiffened. His mind raced. "Indeed one of our own did vanish recently. The Higher-Ups held a meeting to discuss the matter, but they didn't figure out anything because not a single trace of him remained. They assumed it was something beyond human comprehension. Something monstrous since no traces were left. But—"
Akira's smirk widened. "That was me."
Silence, heavier than before.
The Demonic Human's face twisted in a snarl. "He's claiming to have killed one?" His thoughts churned violently before his voice erupted. "Bullshit! You—"
"And he wasn't as untouchable as you claim to be," Akira interrupted, his voice low, dangerous.
The Demonic Human stilled for a moment, his grotesque grin fading as his expression twisted. Then, his eyes turned an even deeper crimson, the air growing heavier, charged with malice, as his demonic energy manifested more clearly. He slowly lifted a hand to his stolen face, his fingers digging slightly into the false skin, as if amused by its presence.
"You know something funny, you fool?" His voice slithered through the air, oozing with mockery. "No one cares if one of our kind dies. Not even a little." He let out a low, guttural chuckle before adding, "Unless, of course, they belong to one of our factions."
Sylara's breath hitched, her fingers tightening around her panthoblade. The very idea—the cold indifference with which he spoke of his own kind—was exactly why they were feared.
Yet, standing opposite the monstrous being, Akira remained motionless. His glowing white pupils remained fixed on the Demonic Human, unreadable, cold. He neither reacted nor spoke.
The Demonic Human sneered, his sharp teeth flashing. "But you made a mistake here, fool." His aura pulsed violently, distorting the space around him with sheer oppressive force. "I wasn't even here for you," he admitted, his voice turning darker, colder. "I would've shown you mercy. I had no reason to concern myself with a nobody. No reason to waste my time." His lips curled, his voice thick with venom. "I came to finish what I started. But now…"
His eyes narrowed dangerously, his lips stretching into a slow, predatory grin. "Now—you have become my top priority." His hand extended, his finger pointing directly at Akira, marking him like prey. "Do you know why?"
Akira's gaze remained unchanged, his white, luminous eyes boring into the creature before him, expression unreadable.
The Demonic Human chuckled darkly. "I don't care if you kill every single Demonic Human in existence." His voice dripped with malice, low and reverberating. "It makes no difference to me. However…" His grin stretched unnaturally wide. "The Higher-Ups have promised an unimaginable reward to whoever delivers the one who killed one of our kind. And now that I know you're the one…"
A sharp, eerie silence fell.
Then—A low, chilling chuckle.
It came not from the Demonic Human—but from Akira.
The Demonic Human's eyes slightly widened as Akira's expression twisted. His head tilted slightly, and his lips curled into a wide, taunting grin—something eerily demonic in its own right.
"You should've stuck to finishing what you started. Now you won't get the chance.""
"Bring it then."
BOOM!
A shockwave erupted as an overwhelming surge of white energy exploded around Akira. The underground parking lot trembled violently, the ground beneath them cracking and splintering like glass under the sheer force. The air crackled with raw power, each pulse of energy sending tremors through Sylara's body, forcing her to brace herself against the wall. Her panthoblade vibrated in her grip, as if resonating with the overwhelming pressure.
Akira's hair lifted slightly, caught in the currents of his energy, as the space around him distorted—warped—under the pressure. His glowing white pupils burned brighter, his entire form outlined in a radiant, otherworldly glow. The energy felt searing, yet paradoxically cold, like a blizzard set ablaze. It was as if the very fabric of reality was bending to his will, the air around him shimmering with an unnatural, almost divine light.
The Demonic Human's eyes widened, his confident smirk twitching—just for a second. His breath hitched, and he took an involuntary step back, the sheer force of Akira's presence pressing against him like a tidal wave. For the first time, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind—a fleeting, primal fear that this human claiming to have killed one of his kind might be something far beyond his understanding.
Akira's grin didn't fade.
He lifted his hand slightly, fingers curling, as if daring him to make the first move.—and the battle began.