Zarek felt the change the moment the gaze landed on him.
'Clever. Clever, indeed.'
The instincts of this Charisma Type Mutant were off the charts. Not only had it known how to hide itself until the opportune moment, but it also knew how sensitive Zarek's instincts were, so much so that it didn't dare to look at him until now.
Every part of Zarek took a hit after his every Rebirth. However, the one thing that increased after every death was his sensory perception, forming a sixth sense of sorts that made him not only incredibly sensitive to the streams of time, but also to those trying to impose changes onto his life in general.
If Zarek were to rank this as a Talent, it just might be an S Class Talent all on its own. Yet, it wasn't ranked at all on his status screen.
'Well… come on, then.'
Zarek's eyes flashed, his grip over his dulled machete blades tightening. His blood boiled in his veins, pulses of crimson outlining the whites of his eyes as he strained to control his body.
Out from the line of trees, a vaguely humanoid form slithered out. Its chin grazed against the ground, its bottom hanging high in the air as its feet pushed it forward.
Its heels seemed to be in reverse, its legs attached to its body in the wrong orientation. And yet, these two weren't the only limbs that were oddly attached, its arms coming out far closer to where its shoulder blades should have been rather than at the position of where its shoulder sockets were.
Its skin was an even more sickly white than the Mature Turned Zarek had faced off against first. While it didn't have the same sticky moistness, it was as white as ash, making it look more like a statue than anything else.
Its eyes were the only pop of color on its entire being, and it was precisely this that drew you to them all the more. It felt like staring into them was akin to witnessing the birth of the universe, splashes of violet colors of all sorts of shades winding into a mesh of lines and exploding energies.
The Charisma Type Mutant crawled forward slowly, its heels pushing against the ground as its body turned from side to side.
Zarek's own gaze had long turned to face it, but he didn't move the slightest bit.
The surroundings fell into silence, and the Turned that had always been rushing toward toward this location had stopped.
'A Control Type…'
There were five Core Stats. Mature and Mutant Turned all tended to fall into one of these five "Types." But these were more like umbrella terms. Within them, there were more divisions.
A Control Type was a specific sort of Charisma Type Mutant that displayed the ability to control other Turned.
'Even smarter than I thought.'
This was one of the reasons that Zarek had thought of earlier. But he had dismissed it because it would require the Charisma Type to not only be smart enough to bide its time, but to also understand how to control the flow of Turned so that Zarek would be the least suspicious.
"You aren't a normal Charisma Type. You must have been quite famous in the other timelines. But all of the Charisma Types I know that are that famous are either extremely beautiful or extremely ugly. I can't tell which one you'll become yet."
Sure, the Control Type looked grotesque now. But there was something about those eyes…
Zarek felt that he hadn't just run into a Mutant Turned this time.
But a Named Turned.
He grinned.
There was only so much he could suppress that side of him. The boiling of his blood turned away from pain, and soon there was something else seething inside of him.
SHIIING! SHIIING!
Zarek drew his blades against one another.
BANG! BANG!
Two giant Mutant Turned suddenly barreled their way out of the forest. They looked like cancerous masses personified into vaguely humanoid shapes, their bodies lumbering forward.
They must have been at least three meters tall, thick veins pulsing with pus and violet blood forming a mesh of flesh around their thick necks.
Zarek had already sensed them before. These were two Strength Type Mutants, and their raw power was at least the equivalent of the E+ Grade already, despite the fact they were still in the F Tier.
These must be its bodyguards.
Zarek took a breath and exhaled. He crouched, a cracking coming from his knees as he stood up explosively.
He shot forward, the size of the two lumbering Strength Types not fazing him in the slightest. Raising his machetes, he seemed to have completely forgotten about the Charisma Type.
A slight sheen reflected in the Control Type's eyes, a delicate violet shroud covering it. It didn't seem surprised that Zarek had ignored it at all.
BANG!
Zarek grunted as a swinging fist from one of the Strength Types almost brought him to his knees. The flat of his blade was almost pressed against his chest until he just barely managed to pivot, parrying the blow to the side.
His wrist twisted, and the sharp edge of his blade turned into the length of the Strength Type's arm, slicing up and through its elbow and tricep.
Unfortunately, there was a second Strength Type. A fist slammed against Zarek's back.
It felt as though a sledgehammer had shattered all of his bones, his Endurance not nearly high enough to take on power a full Tier beyond him.
Rattled, he fell to a knee.
The first Strength Type with a half-severed arm roared in pain, its second fist swinging out at Zarek's head.
With a roll, Zarek barely managed to dodge, but the shuddering of his inner organs almost caused him to spit them all up.
The Charisma Type looked at how the battle was going and seemed to nod to itself. Then, it began to slowly circle, rounding to the back of Zarek. Its eyes, however, were trained on Zarek's home.
It had been observing for a long time, and Zarek never seemed to let anything get too close to that house. Then before it had appeared, Zarek took a glance inside.
What was Zarek protecting in there? It was quite curious.
A long tongue ran across its lips.
Maybe it was something delicious. The pulsing aura sure seemed to suggest that.