Hansi's sharp eyes flickered as he analyzed the guards inside the Duke's estate. Without hesitation, he launched himself effortlessly to the top floor, landing with silent grace. The building wasn't quite a grand mansion but had the extravagant touch of a royal's fancy residence.
Using a subtle wave of his hand, Hansi activated his magic and phased through the solid walls without causing the slightest disturbance. Once inside, he employed another technique—shrinking his entire body to a miniature form, barely the size of a child's toy. Despite his small stature, his speed remained formidable, moving at a velocity equal to a full-grown man in a sprint.
Gliding through the narrow hallways, he soon found himself before an ornate door engraved with golden letters:
Duke Libert Gandors.
Without hesitation, Hansi slipped through the tiny gap beneath the door and entered the room. Once inside, he restored his normal size, scanning his surroundings with calm efficiency.
Activating his Parallel Thought skill, his mind instantly processed every detail, and within seconds, he traced the duke's exact location—far from the estate. The Duke was currently in the Slave Contractors' Base, positioned near the border just beyond the town.
Without delay, Hansi teleported to a spot near the base. Shadows consumed him as he moved swiftly, eliminating the ten guards stationed outside with barely a flicker of movement. One by one, they collapsed without even realizing their end had come.
Pushing aside the thick curtains covering the entrance, Hansi stepped into the base. The interior bore an eerie resemblance to a circus—gaudy, colorful tents hiding the grim reality of countless caged slaves trapped within. Their empty eyes followed him, but he moved forward without hesitation, unaffected by their silent pleas.
He veered left into a dimly lit chamber, where he found his targets—Duke Libert Gandors and the slave dealer—engaged in a whispered negotiation.
The moment Hansi stepped inside, both men startled.
"Who the hell are you?" the dealer barked. "Guards! Capture him!"
The Duke's eyes narrowed as realization dawned. "They're all dead," he said coldly. His voice was laced with irritation. "He's from the Assassin's Guild... I knew they'd come, but sending just one? They underestimate me."
Hansi nodded slightly in response, his expression indifferent.
The Duke's face twisted in anger. "You son of—"
Before he could finish, his entire body convulsed unnaturally, transforming grotesquely into a monstrous crab-like creature. Thick, armored pincers sprouted from his sides, his mouth vanishing entirely into a monstrous chitinous shell.
Without warning, the crab-monster lashed out, severing the slave dealer's head in a single swift motion. The severed head hit the floor with a dull thud.
"Oh, sorry," the crab chuckled, his voice eerily smooth despite his monstrous form. "Didn't mean to do that."
The creature extended a massive claw toward Hansi and grinned—or what might have been a grin.
"I am Crane. Remember my name, and I'll remember yours."
Hansi remained silent, his piercing purple eyes locked onto the creature without emotion.
Crane's grin faltered. "If this is what you want..."
With blinding speed, he lunged, his extended claw reaching to crush Hansi—
Suddenly, with a sickening crack, his entire claw fell to the ground. Blood splattered across the chamber floor.
"HOW—?!" Crane's scream echoed through the base.
Another arm dropped, then another. His voice grew more desperate. "Ouch! What are you—?!"
His monstrous legs, six in total, were severed one by one in rapid succession, each cut surgical and precise. Crane collapsed, writhing in agony.
"A monster... worse... worse than me..." were his final words before his body split cleanly into two, falling apart in gruesome chunks of meat. Dark blood seeped across the floor, painting the room in macabre art.
As the grotesque remains of the monster melted away, the true form of Duke Libert Gandors emerged from within, unconscious but alive.
Hansi, unfazed, raised his hand and conjured a floating sheet of paper through his magic. Elegant, precise strokes formed the message:
have done my task. Now I am leaving my body behind.
Without hesitation, the message flew out of the base, soaring through the night toward his guild master.
Hansi then summoned a gleaming, ethereal sword from thin air. Without hesitation, he plunged it deep into the right side of his chest.
A quiet exhale escaped his lips. Blood dripped down in steady streams as he collapsed to the floor, his eyes never losing their calm gaze.
The scene shifts—Hansi, clad in his full assassin's gear, moves deeper into the abyss of darkness, as if drowning in an endless sea. For the first time, a faint smile creeps across his face, an eerie contrast to the void surrounding him. The suffocating darkness suddenly fades away, and the world shifts.
Duke Libert Gandors gasps awake, his confused gaze darting around the dimly lit chamber. His hand trembles as he touches his forehead, trying to piece together his fragmented memories.
"What... What am I even doing here?" he mutters, eyes scanning the carnage around him. "My memory... I can't remember anything."
Then, his gaze falls upon the headless corpse of the slave dealer lying in a pool of blood. His face contorts in horror.
"Who the hell is this ultra noob dead dude!?"
The scene changes. Evening settles over the land, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Near the beach coast, under a dilapidated bridge, Hansi lies hidden in the shadows. His breath comes in slow, shallow draws. The sword remains embedded in his right chest, yet, inexplicably, he remains alive.
His mind echoes the same thought as the universe itself—Why am I not dead?
Suddenly, the air grows heavy, an unsettling stillness taking over. Without warning, a surge of unfathomable power erupts from Hansi's body, an aura so immense it shakes the world to its core. Towering tsunamis rise from the sea, earthquakes split the land, and violent tornadoes spiral across the vast ocean.
With a mere snap of his fingers, the chaos halts. The sea falls silent, and the lifeless bodies of monstrous sea creatures float to the surface, their deaths instantaneous and absolute.
The sword lodged in his chest begins to glow with a sinister black flame, pulsing with unrelenting energy.
Hansi moves forward, each step deliberate, each stride sending ripples of fear throughout the world. The people of the nearby city, terrified by the disasters, lock themselves indoors, praying for survival.
As night descends, Hansi strides into the ocean. Moments later, he emerges, surrounded by a horde of supernatural beings—spirits, kappas, and other deep-sea monsters. They watch him warily, their gazes filled with an ancient fear.
One of the kappas, trembling, mutters, "Wrong man... in the wrong world."
Before another breath could be taken, the kappa's body crumbles into dust, vanishing with the wind.
Silence falls, the only sound remaining is the whisper of the sea breeze and the slow, deliberate movement of Hansi. The red essence in his eyes intensifies, glowing like embers in the darkness.
Without warning, he turns and dashes toward the ocean at impossible speeds. The sea trembles violently in response, and within moments, an unfathomable force causes the entire ocean to rise—a colossal wall of water, taller than the mightiest mountains, stands still as Hansi floats in its center.
From the horde, another kappa whispers in awe, "This... this is his power?"
A voice responds in the stillness, "No... not at all."
Hansi raises his hand, and with a single motion, an enormous wind burst cleaves the towering sea wall into giant cubic segments, neatly slicing them apart like fragile glass.
He ascends, soaring above the clouds, his sheer speed parting the heavens and revealing the brilliance of the full moon. His gaze locks onto it, and for a fleeting moment, a memory surfaces—
A girl in a pink cherry blossom yukata, holding a matching umbrella, standing beneath the moonlight in a garden of falling cherry blossoms. Her face, obscured by the umbrella, remains a mystery lost in time.
Reality snaps back, and Hansi forcefully propels himself toward the earth in an attempt to end it all. The impact is catastrophic, but as the dust settles—he remains unharmed. Frustration consumes him.
With an anguished roar, he releases an omnipotent slash from his very being, obliterating everything above his height. Buildings, mountains, even the cries of those caught in its path—gone in an instant.
Fury drives him further. He punches the ground with such force that the earth splits apart. From space, the planet appears severed into two drifting halves. Air begins escaping into the void, a calamity of unparalleled proportions.
Hansi, growing to an incomprehensible size, seizes both halves of the sundered earth with monstrous chains of pure energy. He pulls them together with unimaginable strength, attempting to crush himself between them. Yet even now, death eludes him.
As the chaos spirals further, the moon falls out of orbit, drawn toward the core of destruction. Hansi spares it a fleeting glance, and in that instant, it ignites into ashes, disintegrating into nothingness.
Desperate, he teleports near a black hole, piercing through its event horizon. Inside, his body warps and contorts, taking on shapes beyond human comprehension, like clay in the hands of the void itself.
With his last remaining strength, he unleashes a nuclear explosion, his aura colliding with the darkness. The sheer force births a wormhole in the fabric of space-time, and he vanishes within.
Emerging into an endless void, he is surrounded by complete and utter nothingness. He releases blast after blast, his body gradually dissolving into fragments—
And then, once more, that vision returns.
The girl. The moon. The cherry blossoms.
Hansi's eyes return to their normal state. A single tear escapes him.
With a heavy heart, he reverses time itself, erasing the timeline of destruction he wrought.
Hansi stands once again at the same beach, the soft waves rolling in. The moon still hangs in the sky, undisturbed. The world remains whole.
But within him, the storm rages on.
Hansi raises his arm without hesitation and plunges his hand into his right chest, ripping out his heart in an instant. He stares at it, the still-beating organ resting in his palm—but he doesn't die.
Unfazed, he slides his other hand into his left chest, grasping his magic crystal—the core of his existence—and shatters it without a second thought. Yet, death still eludes him.
He slowly closes his eyes, his breath calm, accepting the emptiness.
Darkness envelops him