A man wearing a metallic mask and a trench coat stood next to another man with red hair, piercings on his lips and nose, and dressed in a sharp suit.
They found the lifeless body of Fade Wilson and a sobbing Lorraine kneeling silently in front of it.
“What’s this? Fade’s finally dead? I thought he was somewhat useful.”
The red-haired man scratched his head as if perplexed.
With light steps, he approached Lorraine and glanced at Fade's face. Fade’s expression, even in death, was peaceful. The red-haired man scowled as if the sight annoyed him.
“Hah, you pick up a stray mutt like him, raise him, and this is how he leaves you? I guess a stray is always just a stray.”
Thud!
Without hesitation, the man kicked Lorraine, who was still silently staring at Fade’s body. She collapsed sideways with no strength to resist.
“You’re the same. How dare a nobody like you ruin my plans!”
The man stomped on Lorraine and kicked her again while she remained defenseless. Finally, the trench coat-wearing man spoke up.“That's enough. I came here expecting some fun, but all I see is this mess. Or did you bring me here just to show me this?”
“Of course not. This was completely unexpected for me too. Now I have to find another suitable pawn somewhere else.”
The red-haired man ruffled his hair roughly. From the ground, Lorraine, trembling, forced out a question with a strained voice.
“Who... who are you? What’s your connection to Fade?”
“What? Ha, haha! Look at this. Even while getting beaten, that’s what you’re curious about?”
The red-haired man chuckled, then crouched down to grab Lorraine’s hair, forcing her to lift her head.
“Urk!”
“Oh. You’re not half bad looking. If you hadn’t ruined my plans, I might have kept you around.”
He held her arm with his other hand.
“But your habits are terrible.”
With just a slight squeeze, Lorraine’s face contorted in pain, and a gun fell from her grip. The man noticed her attempt to target him even in such dire circumstances. His eyes gleamed momentarily but then settled.
Though potentially useful, he could tell by her gaze that she wasn’t someone who could be easily swayed with sweet words or rewards, unlike Fade.
A person with a strong will. The red-haired man disliked such people. Whenever he met one, he felt compelled to crush their spirit to feel satisfied.
“Let’s see. Judging by your reaction, you seemed close to this dead man here.”
A mischievous smile spread across his face. The man in the trench coat shook his head in disapproval. His companion’s bad habit was surfacing again.
“Who are we, you ask? As you can see, we’re the ones who helped that Fade Wilson rampage as much as he wanted.”
“You...!” Lorraine’s eyes flared with rage. But drained from her fight with Fade, she had no energy to strike back at the red-haired man.
“Oh, those eyes! I like them. Anyway, as I was saying, I was thrilled to have found a hunting dog like him. It’s not easy to get someone who’s willing to risk their life using experimental prosthetics and drugs. Of course, we gave him some good stuff in return.”
Lorraine remembered Fade’s prosthetics—eyes that overstrained his brain, arms, and legs that wreaked havoc on his nervous system. His original ones had already been abnormal, but to pursue revenge, he equipped himself with even more dangerous enhancements.
In essence, he had been a walking time bomb.
“And then you went ahead and killed him. Now my head’s all over the place. The losses I’m taking aren’t something your pathetic life can compensate for.”
The red-haired man released Lorraine’s hair and turned toward Fade’s body.
“First, let’s take an arm.”
Slice!
A blade formed from crimson energy in his hand, severing Fade’s prosthetic arm at the shoulder. Lorraine’s eyes widened in horror.
“Stop it!”
Seeing her comrade’s body desecrated was unbearable. She tried to reach for her dropped gun, but pain shot through her arm. The man had broken her arm with a mere squeeze earlier.
Even at full strength, she might barely have been able to fight him. But she gritted her teeth and picked up the gun with her fractured arm.
“Such tenacity. I like that. Breaking you won’t be so easy, which makes it all the more fun.”
With a snap of his fingers, crimson spikes erupted from the ground, piercing Lorraine’s hand and immobilizing her in a cage-like structure.
“Just sit there and watch while I recover your friend’s prosthetics.”
The red-haired man swung his hand again.
Slice!
Another leg of Fade’s was severed.
“Whoops. That wasn’t a prosthetic. My mistake.”
“Stop it! Stop, you bastard!” Lorraine screamed, veins bulging in her neck as she struggled. But the spikes held her firmly in place. Blood dripped from her lips as she bit down in frustration.
The red-haired man grinned with twisted pleasure at her anguish. Yes, this was what he wanted—to see her spirit break. Yet, despite her torment, her gaze still burned with determination. That wouldn’t do. He wouldn’t stop until every trace of defiance was extinguished.
“Tell me. Give me one good reason to stop.”
His question was met not by Lorraine, but by an unexpected voice from the shadows beyond the rain.
“Why don’t you tell me instead?”
Both men turned sharply. The voice alone sent a chill down their spines. Emerging from the darkness and pouring rain was a knight clad in brilliant white armor.
“Why should I not kill you both right now?”
The piercing blue light of his eyes glowed ominously from within his helmet.
Standing in the rain, Osian’s gaze locked onto the red-haired man. He had come to aid Lorraine after clearing out the Ghost Troop and witnessed her suffering.
Blood streaming down Lorraine’s face was nothing compared to the tears marking her cheeks. Something stirred in Osian’s chest—a rage more intense than he had felt since arriving in this world.
As the saying went, rage beyond a certain point turned cold. Osian’s demeanor and tone were icy, yet the killing intent in his voice was unmistakable.
“Who are you?” The red-haired man scowled at the armored figure. The trench coat man narrowed his eyes.
Osian squinted at the trench coat man, recognizing him as the handler of the elite automaton he’d faced during his first mission. That mask and coat design weren’t common enough to mistake for someone else.
Thankfully, it seemed they didn’t recognize him in return, as his full armor now concealed his identity.
Still, the trench coat man’s instincts screamed danger.
“Stop joking and focus. That one isn’t ordinary.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Dressed like that in this rain.”
Ignoring his partner’s sarcasm, the red-haired man stepped outside.
“I’m already annoyed enough, and now this weirdo shows up. Doesn’t he value his life?”
“Stop provoking him. If this escalates, it’ll backfire on us too.”
“Fine, fine. I get it.”
“We’ll take him down together. No complaints, right?”
“Sure, why not.”
Confident words, as if they thought taking Osian down would be easy. Osian’s gaze didn’t waver as he asked again:
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
“You’re still on about that? ‘Why shouldn’t you kill us?’ Obviously, there’s no reason, you fool.”
“I see. Very well.”
Osian turned his head slightly and spoke.
“One of them is yours.”
Confused, the two villains realized he was addressing someone else. From the darkness, a massive, black-furred beast with golden eyes emerged silently.
“What the hell is that?” the red-haired man muttered, scowling. The creature resembled a scaled-up, menacing version of a feline predator, towering to the size of a tram car.
Baring sharp white teeth, the beast’s hostility was clear.
“A knight in shining armor and a black beast? As if this city wasn’t already crawling with freaks.”
Ignoring his partner’s complaint, the trench coat man summoned two automatons, their trench-coated forms eerily human-like save for their towering two-meter stature.
Yet Osian’s piercing gaze remained fixed on the red-haired man. Even as the beast growled, Osian declared firmly:
“He’s mine. This is non-negotiable.”
At those words, the beast’s eyes flickered with dissatisfaction, but it neither denied nor resisted.
The roles were set.
Osian would face the red-haired man.
The beast would handle the trench coat man and the automatons.
The first to move was the black beast.
It charged at the trench coat man with tremendous speed, only to be intercepted by the two automatons blocking its path.
Boom!
The collision between the elite automatons and the massive beast caused a shockwave, sending the rainwater surging outward from the impact.
Within this storm of collision, Osian and the red-haired man locked eyes.
“I must look like a fool to you. Imagine, stepping up to face me alone.”
The red-haired man extended a hand toward Osian and curled his finger, as though taunting him to attack. However, Lorraine knew that it wasn’t mere provocation.
“Watch out!”
It wasn’t an empty gesture. Every flick of that man’s fingers spelled a death sentence for his opponent.
Splat!
From beneath Osian’s feet, crimson energy erupted.
It resembled mana, yet it wasn’t. Normal mana shimmered in beautiful blue hues—this was entirely different.
Eight pillars of crimson energy rose around Osian, spiraling into a vortex like an eightfold coil. The crimson power surrounded Osian, transforming into the shape of a tightly shut flower bud.
The man clenched his outstretched hand into a fist.
The bud contracted to its limits, crushing its captive Osian like a rag being wrung dry.
Boom!
But from the center of the flower bud, white light burst forth in an explosion.
Standing unscathed in its center was Osian, holding his radiant Starlight Sword.
The red-haired man curled his lip.
“So, you have something up your sleeve, do you?”
He once again extended his hand toward Osian.
Whoosh! Crimson orbs materialized around Osian, launching sharp spikes in every direction, leaving no room to dodge—a merciless assault.
Yet Osian had already disappeared from the spot.
The red-haired man only caught a glimpse of Osian’s armor, which had turned from white to a glowing blue before his power could reach him.
Slash.
“Huh?”
The red-haired man widened his eyes as he saw his outstretched hand severed cleanly.
Before he could react, Osian, now cloaked in his full Moonlight Armor, was standing behind him.
“For starters, one arm.”