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The man, filled with rage from head to toe, pulled his hand back.

In response, his arm transformed with the motion, and the barrel, engulfing explosives, became more violent and larger.

It was capable of firing multiple explosives at once.

“Fucking shotgun, taste this!”

Boom—!

What was an ordinary flintlock before had now become a shotgun.

It was a destructive shotgun powerful enough to unleash most of the swallowed explosives all at once.

A tremendous noise erupted from the man’s arm as the explosives fanned out in a flurry.

They surged densely, forming a barrage that couldn’t be easily dodged as they shot forth.

To shatter that existence—daring to utter words that one shouldn’t even think of!

[Oh, dear. If I dodge this, the building will be blown to bits.]

However, Ghede, faced with an attack so threatening that an ordinary person would surrender their life upon seeing it, remained calm. No, his expression exceeded mere calmness and even bordered on ennui.

[I must admit, you truly have some serious architecture obsession!]

With that, Ghede shouted and lifted his staff.

Then he started to spin it around.

As if he were some kind of windmill!

Whoosh—!

Whooooosh—!

The sound of slicing through the wind.

The staff spun swiftly.

Creating a bright white circle as his bone-like body twirled.

And the more he spun, the larger the circle grew.

As if his bones were growing in real-time.

The staff was no longer just a staff, but something with elasticity.

Thus, the circle grew larger, and in tandem, Ghede’s body elongated.

It was a bizarre transformation—so much so that it was too strange to simply say it became giant.

It was not a uniform growth; his waist was stretching abnormally long—as if he were a snake… or perhaps a ferret.

Moreover, his waist remained the same thickness as before, making it feel even more bizarre.

Was this what it felt like to witness a tree-like monster growing in real-time?

Eventually, Ghede’s body grew long enough to nearly touch the ceiling, and the staff had transformed into a size that encompassed most of the floor. Furthermore, it wasn’t simply extending; it spun around in an oval shape, short vertically but long horizontally.

An oval-shaped staff.

It appeared as though some sentient being was adjusting its body length.

As the staff covered the floor, it collided with the explosives…

BANG!

BANG!

Remarkably, the staff repelled all the explosives.

[Hey, friend. I couldn’t care less how the interior of the building falls apart, but if it collapses, that would be quite problematic—especially for someone like you with such architectural urges. Haha!]

Swish—!

Boom—!

After fending off the explosives, Ghede stopped spinning the staff.

Instead, it transformed into a whip made of human bones, and with it, he struck the ground several times.

As if hoping the bones would shatter.

Boom—!

Boom—!

How many times did he strike?

Cracks began to form at the tip of the whip.

With each strike, the cracks grew deeper until finally, it burst apart dramatically.

It resembled a white flower finally blooming, or like a snake with its jaw unhinging wide to devour its prey.

The staff had turned into a whip.

The whip had ultimately transformed into a snake made of bone.

The bony snake coiled around Ghede’s body, blooming wide as if to flaunt its existence while spreading the scent of rotting marrow everywhere.

It then grew, appearing as though it needed nourishment from the decaying marrow, and ultimately swelled to a size capable of easily swallowing a person whole.

It resembled a flower that devours humans, or a divine snake that materialized to consume them.

The bizarre yet awe-inspiring sight left the man wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

[Friend, it’s rather troubling if you’re feeling urges even toward my snake. It’s enough to get labeled as a pervert over just a building, but a snake too… Haha. Isn’t the scope a bit too broad? Only you could make something narrow feel widespread. I can surmise the state of your goods quite well.]

Seeing the man’s expression, Ghede laughed joyfully and taunted.

“Shit! What a filthy mouth. What kind of imitation are you flaunting here?”

[Oh dear, is it dirtier than your flesh walls? I’ve seen folks get squeamish at fish when boarding a boat, but a building and a snake? Haha. I must’ve seen everything in my long life. Quite refreshing, truly!]

Such crude words.

Speech one wouldn’t believe could be uttered amidst a fight.

Jokes that seemed devoid of any seriousness.

However… despite the lowbrow remarks, Ghede’s appearance grew increasingly bizarre.

The once-glossy suit faded into tattered rags.

Some part returned to dust, other parts rotted, and some frayed into tatters.

As the suit disappeared, the exposed skin changed into shades of blue, purple, and black, eventually dripping with decomposed liquid while revealing scattered white bone fragments. His squalid-looking face grew gaunt, and his eyes lost their luster, becoming infested with maggots. The eyeballs that were once there had completely vanished, leaving nothing but a dark void where they should have been.

That darkness began to spread from the gaping hollow, eroding the skin, and the flowing skin melted everything except the bones, as if drenched in a corrosive substance.

Finally, the shape that Ghede revealed was that of a specter draped in long hair and bone, adorned in rags.

[Well, I’m someone who accepts whatever urges you might have! The graveyard is a place that welcomes all existences! Ha-ha-ha—!]

The corpse, wrapped in the bony snake, laughed.

Delighted by the presence of this foolish offering come to his death.

* * *

A terrorist act executed by ramming a truck into a building.

It was shocking and occurred at an unpredictable moment, proceeding with rapid and startling speed. Like an intense fear that could strike at any time, it aptly lived up to its name, terrifying many and causing them to scream and flee.

But while everyone was fleeing, some dared to enter.

‘This is confusing but not bad.’

Among those who infiltrated the building taking advantage of the chaos was one such man.

When the enigmatic figure who committed the act of terrorism threatened people with explosives, he seized the moment to climb the exterior walls. Once up to the fourth floor, he seized the opportunity created by the sound of an explosion and the building trembling, shattering a window to enter, using his agility to ascend further.

His intention was singular.

Lucas.

‘Lucas. To think there would be a terrorist act in the building. Just how much karma have you accumulated…’

KABOOM!

Rumble.

The booming sounds filtered up from below.

And the vibrations that followed the explosion.

A thought flashed through his mind that the building might collapse at any moment.

If one had reached a high enough state, survival even through the building’s collapse would be no issue, but sadly, he was incapable of such feats. Unlike other warriors who systematically trained at a young age, he had started learning martial arts much too late, leaving him unable to reach a high state.

His master had said that he had accumulated too much turbidity, and with his growth plateaued, he couldn’t adapt his body to martial arts techniques.

‘Of course, they said I could aim for a high state after undergoing transformation…’

Yet ironically, to undergo transformation, one needed to have achieved a high state first.

Isn’t that a funny story?

To reach a higher state requires transformation, but to transform, one must reach a higher state…

In simple terms, that means he couldn’t aim for any further advancement.

Nevertheless, he didn’t despair at his master’s hopeless diagnosis.

After all, he hadn’t learned martial arts in hopes of success as a warrior.

His goal was singular.

To behead his enemy, Lucas.

‘Damn hypocrite. Today is the day you die.’

Once an ordinary businessman, he lost everything due to Lucas.

His company, his family, his fame!

All of it!

He had been happy.

The company that started in a university club had grown into a massive new enterprise, and he had just married an attractive woman, enjoying a dream-like honeymoon.

He had gained a reputation in the industry, with media outlets wanting to feature him.

Everything had been going smoothly.

Everything could have been happy.

Surely, that was true.

If only Lucas hadn’t been there!

Suddenly appearing and shaking his company in every conceivable manner, cowardly seizing it—if only that had not been the case!

‘I’ll skin your face and slice your neck.’

Metatron?

Hero?

What a laugh.

Lucas was a demon.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing, a demon with the guise of an angel.

Nay, he didn’t even wear a proper disguise.

That damn bastard was nothing more than a beast greedily hunting for its prey, hidden behind the minimum facade of hypocrisy.

Because of that demon, he lost everything.

A few comrades he once shared joy with betrayed him to side with Lucas, and some realized they couldn’t withstand the tide and gave up, moving to other companies instead.

Not a single soul remained to help him.

His reputation sank into the sewers, forgotten as if it never existed.

An enormous pile of debt crushed his happy home, and his wife left him.

Was it fortunate that there were no children?

Thus, he was cast out onto the streets.

From the owner of a promising company to a homeless man.

What a horrific downfall.

Yet despite his fall, there was unquestionably a reason for him to cling to life.

It was the intensely burning fire of hatred.

He had lived solely to bring destruction upon Lucas, to kill him.

And now.

The opportunity has come.

 

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