CHAPTER 9 – PREDATOR IN A SUIT

  [Illustration: The MC stands before a large floor-to-ceiling mirror inside a luxury boutique. He wears a tailored, dark red suit made of spider silk. His face is deadpan, his gaze sharp yet empty. In the mirror's reflection, his image appears slightly distorted, as if a grinning monster lurks beneath the pristine attire.]

  The boutique was silent, save for the soft rustle of fine fabric.

  I stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

  The reflection staring back at me was immaculate. The cave spider silk wrapped around my frame, hiding the unnatural muscle and impossibly tough skin. Dark red. Elegant. Expensive.

  But when I looked into the eyes in the mirror, I saw no one.

  These clothes didn't protect me from the world. They protected the world from me. They were a seal. A false promise that the creature standing here was a civilized human, not just walking instinct searching for an excuse to kill.

  "Perfect... sir," the clerk whispered, his voice trembling. He didn't meet my eyes. He stared at the expensive fabric, the only thing that made him feel safe in my presence.

  I buttoned the jacket. It felt like sealing a coffin.

  "Hold on to the rest of the order. I'll pick them up in batches."

  I didn't need to pay. The transaction was settled upfront. I simply left a silver coin on the counter as a tip—a human gesture I'd learned from books, meant to mask the fact that I felt absolutely nothing.

  I stepped outside.

  The door chime rang.

  The world out there was noisy, but inside my head, it was dead silent.

  The Adventurer's Guild.

  The clinking of mugs and raucous laughter abruptly died the moment I pushed open the double doors.

  Hundreds of eyes locked onto me.

  Before, they had glared with disgust and fear, put off by the stench of blood and desert dust. Now, they looked on with wary respect. The clothes were working. Humans are visual creatures; they revere the outer shell before ever trying to understand what lies beneath.

  I walked toward the quest board. My footsteps were muffled by expensive soles.

  "Mister Scorpion..." The female receptionist smiled, but her eyes were guarded. "Your appearance... is quite different."

  "I need work."

  "Of course. Here is the list of available Rank A Quests."

  She slid a few sheets of paper across the counter.

  I scanned them quickly.

  Quest 1: Land Clearing (Trivial).

  Quest 2: Honey Gathering (Boring).

  Quest 3: Mail Delivery (A waste of time).

  My eyes stopped on three specific missions.

  Quest 7: 'Bovine Wrath' Dungeon (Minotaurs). Target: 5 Crystals.

  Quest 6: Deep Sea Monster (Giant Crab). Target: Meat & Shell.

  Quest 4: Weeping Forest Trail (Escort).

  I pulled the three papers toward me.

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  "I'll take all three."

  The receptionist's eyes widened. "Sir... Minotaurs travel in herds. And the Giant Crab... requires a specialized team just to haul it ashore. You're going alone?"

  "I have a Dimensional Bag and spider thread. That's enough."

  "But... the time limits..."

  "Not an issue."

  I turned away.

  I didn't need the money. I still had several gold coins left in my bag.

  I needed the sensation.

  I needed the snap of broken bones, the crushing pressure of the deep, and the screams of monsters to remind me that I was still breathing.

  Dungeon: Bovine Wrath.

  Floor 1.

  The sky here was crimson, as if scorched by eternal hatred. The air reeked of sulfur and testosterone. The dry earth cracked beneath my boots.

  Ahead of me stood a herd of Minotaurs. Three-meter-tall behemoths, thick with muscle, wielding colossal stone axes. Their eyes glowed red—the pure manifestation of 'Wrath.'

  Good.

  Be angry.

  Make me feel something.

  "MOOOAAARRRGH!!"

  The roar was full of passion. Full of purpose. That Minotaur lived for its anger. I envied it.

  A massive stone axe swung toward my neck.

  I didn't dodge. I felt no need to.

  My left hand moved—not to block, but to kill the momentum. Like catching the swing of a pendulum.

  BAM.

  The vibration traveled up my arm. Simple physics. Action and reaction.

  My right hand pierced its defense. Not a punch, but a spear of flesh.

  CRAAAK.

  Its sternum shattered into shrapnel. Its heart exploded inside the chest cavity.

  Blood sprayed, hot and thick, staining the red dirt, yet sliding off my silk suit without leaving a single mark.

  The creature fell. The eyes that had burned so brightly were now vacant. Just like mine.

  I stood in the center of a slaughterhouse. No heavy breathing. No racing heartbeat. Just a deafening silence.

  I missed the taste of fear. I missed the sting of pain. But this body simply refused to be hurt.

  I pried the crystals from their chests one by one. Hot, crimson stones. Touching them, I could feel the echo of their rage. Searing. Burning.

  I tossed them all into the Dimensional Bag.

  Empty.

  Not even this much anger could fill the hole in my chest.

  [ILLUSTRATION]

  [Title: The Clean Butcher

  Visual: Low Angle. The MC stands casually, lighting a cigarette amidst a mountain of mangled Minotaur corpses.

  Key Point: The MC’s suit is completely clean and pristine, standing in stark contrast to the blood-soaked, chaotic environment. His face is deadpan/bored.]

  The Southern Coast.

  I didn't rent a carriage. That was too slow. I ran.

  A five-hour carriage ride condensed into an hour of constant sprinting.

  My heart pounded; my lungs worked at maximum capacity.

  This was what I was looking for. The physical exhaustion that silenced the noise in my mind.

  The ocean stretched wide. Deep blue, calm, deadly.

  Target: Giant Crab.

  I took off my overcoat, vest, and hat, folding them neatly atop a reef. I was left in only my white dress shirt and trousers.

  I grabbed my black spear and a coil of spider-web rope.

  I stepped into the water.

  Freezing.

  The sea swallowed my waist, then my chest, then my neck.

  I dove.

  The world shifted into dark blue and profound silence.

  Down here, the water pressure pressed against my eardrums, muffling my own heartbeat. It was peaceful. No haggling merchants, no receptionist small talk, no footsteps. Only the consuming dark blue.

  In the depths, the monster waited.

  I didn't look at it as an enemy, but as an intrusion.

  The scraping of its claws shattered this perfect silence. And I hated it for that.

  I couldn't use the katana here. Water resistance made swift slashes impossible.

  The spear was king of the depths. Aerodynamic. Piercing.

  There.

  The Giant Crab, lurking behind a coral reef.

  I swam closer. My movements were restricted, but my strength was not.

  The monster sensed my presence. Its massive pincer snapped, cutting through the water with terrifying speed.

  CLANK!

  I caught the pincer with the shaft of my spear. The tremor rushed through my entire body, dampened by the water.

  I lashed the spider thread around the base of its claw as we locked in a test of strength.

  One loop. Two loops. A dead knot.

  I kicked off its shell, shooting backward, and yanked the rope.

  This thread could hold fifty tons.

  I swam upward, dragging the monster with me. It thrashed, creating turbulent currents, but I was stronger. I hauled it from its kingdom toward the land.

  Breaking the surface, I leapt onto the beach, pulling the rope with one brutal heave.

  The giant crab was launched from the water, landing upside down on the white sand.

  Before it could right itself, my spear had already descended.

  SHLUCK.

  Straight through the gap in its mouthplates, directly into its brain.

  I stood there soaking wet, staring down at the carcass.

  Seawater dripped from my hair. Salty. Stinging my eyes.

  Yet still... empty.

  The Weeping Forest.

  The final mission. Escort and Path Clearing.

  Drizzle fell endlessly in these woods. No storms, just an eternal, misty rain.

  The wind whistling through the trees sounded like a woman sobbing.

  The nobleman’s carriage rolled slowly behind me. They were terrified. The horses were skittish.

  I walked point, spear in my right hand, a cigarette in my mouth that stayed lit despite the rain—the single small miracle that comforted me.

  "Mister Scorpion... are we safe?" the driver asked, his voice shaking.

  "Keep moving."

  Beyond the mist, red eyes flared.

  Wolves.

  Not ordinary wolves. Their faces were distorted in a state of permanent grief. Tears of blood wept from their eyes.

  This place... was formed from sorrow.

  Legend had it that a family was massacred here, and their anguish poisoned the earth, birthing these monsters.

  "AWOOOOO..."

  The howl wasn't a threat. It was a lament.

  They attacked.

  I moved. Not with the anger I had against the Minotaurs, but with dead silence.

  Slash. Stab.

  They died with barely any resistance. Their bodies crumbled into gray ash.

  The ground trembled faintly.

  The Alpha emerged from the mist. A wolf the size of an elephant, bearing a pale blue crystal on its forehead.

  It looked at me. Its eyes... were so tired.

  Bloody tears soaked its matted fur.

  It didn't roar. It didn't lunge.

  Slowly, the Alpha lowered its head, exposing its neck to me.

  It didn't want to kill me. It wanted me to end its suffering.

  I dropped my spear.

  I drew my black katana.

  Respect.

  I stepped forward. No killing intent, only the intent to grant rest.

  One clean strike.

  The head parted from the body.

  No furious roar. Just a long exhale as its massive frame collapsed, as if a thousand-year burden had just been lifted from its shoulders.

  I approached, extracting the crystal from its forehead.

  The moment my skin touched the cold surface of the stone, my walls crumbled.

  Not sound.

  But sensation.

  Like being plunged into a vat of ice water, then burned alive.

  Thousands of unspoken screams detonated inside my head. The loss of a mother. The terror of a child. The sheer despair of watching loved ones torn apart.

  "URGH!!"

  I staggered. My knees slammed into the muddy earth.

  My chest seized—not from asthma, but from emotions far too immense for a vessel far too empty. It felt like pouring an ocean into a cracked glass.