Los Angeles, Santa Monica Beach.
With nearly fifty people waking up from the dream world, the once-quiet beach suddenly buzzed with activity.
The FEA quickly learned that Roy was the one who freed these people from the dream world. But now, they faced a bigger problem: how to keep all these awakened people quiet.
If it was just a handful of people, getting them to sign NDAs would be easy. But over forty people? And who knows how many more might wake up later? This was a logistical nightmare.
Gerald could already feel his hair falling out from the stress.
Thankfully, the FEA had prepared a few contingency plans, though how effective they'd be was anyone's guess.
But what was happening at Santa Monica Beach was being watched closely by a man standing atop the Ferris wheel.
"Roy Black, let's see what you do now," he muttered.
Suddenly, a woman's voice cut through.
"Beelzebub, what kind of scheme are you cooking up this time?"
Beelzebub turned with a sly grin.
"Lady Belial, you sure seem to care a lot about Roy Black."
Elizabeth sighed, feigning nonchalance.
"Care? Not really. I've just got a big bet riding on him. Can't let him die before I cash in."
Hannibal, however, knew better. The King of Sloth wasn't the type to care about anyone, even if she had a stake in them. Clearly, Roy held a special place in Elizabeth's heart.
Hannibal's mind raced, quickly formulating a way to handle her.
"A few days ago, those three came to me," he said.
No names were mentioned—too risky to be overheard—but Elizabeth instantly knew who he meant. Mammon, Samael, and Leviathan. No one else.
"Oh? And what did they want?" she asked.
"They tried to recruit me."
"Did you agree?"
"Of course not."
Elizabeth used her abilities to confirm Hannibal wasn't lying.
"Then why are you pulling this stunt?"
"When I turned them down, they made a demand: deal with someone for them, or they'd make trouble for me. Lady Belial, what would you do in my shoes?"
The answer was obvious. Demons don't sacrifice themselves for others. If there's a chance to throw someone else under the bus, they'll take it.
"So you orchestrated this whole thing?" Elizabeth asked.
"Not exactly," Hannibal said with a smirk. "I just borrowed a few souls from someone and brought them back, juiced up with some extra power. Lady Belial, I only wanted to see if Roy Black is worth betting on. You're not misunderstanding me, are you?"
From a certain angle, this was practically an offer to join her side.
Last time, at Hannibal's apartment, Elizabeth had invited him to join her camp. He hadn't committed then, saying he needed a few days to think it over.
"Heh, I'm not misunderstanding anything," Elizabeth said, her smile dangerously sweet. "But if anything happens to Roy, don't blame me for going all-out against you."
Hannibal broke into a cold sweat, his smile freezing. And she says she doesn't care?
"Are you thinking something rude?" Elizabeth asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Ahem! No, no! Lady Belial, everything's still under control. Mr. Black will be fine!" Hannibal stammered.
Elizabeth nodded, still smiling. "Good. That puts my mind at ease."
The King of Sloth turned her gaze to Santa Monica Beach, her eyes seeming to pierce through reality itself into the dream world.
At that moment, Roy was locked in a chaotic brawl with Michael Myers, Leatherface, and Jason.
At first, Roy thought he could wrap things up quickly. But after a while, he realized it wasn't going to be that easy.
In the dream world, many of his abilities were unusable—Blood Fury, War Domain, and other status skills were off the table. He couldn't transform into his demon or ghost wolf forms to boost his stats, and he couldn't even bring weapons in.
Without his usual stat and gear advantages, Roy couldn't overpower the three slashers.
He did have one trump card: transforming into his angel form. When he'd taken down Freddy before, he hadn't had that ability yet. Freddy likely didn't know Roy could pull it off, or he wouldn't have been so cocky.
But if Roy went angel mode and wiped out the three slashers, Freddy would probably bolt. Catching him after that would be a pain.
Freddy could exist entirely in the dream world, where Roy's ghost wolf senses and Hound Ring were useless.
No, he couldn't keep fighting like this!
All four of them were stamina freaks—this could drag on forever.
Dodging Leatherface's chainsaw with some fancy boxing footwork, Roy put some distance between himself and the trio.
Then, he tapped into his nightmare ability, conjuring a weapon: a chainsaw sword he hadn't used in ages.
Why a chainsaw sword? Because Roy had mastered the Sawyer family's chainsaw techniques.
Sure, the Executioner's Blade and Leviathan's Axe had better stats, but Roy had never trained with them. His fighting style with those was pure brute force—no finesse, no sweat, just raw power.
In the dream world, conjured weapons only mimicked their real counterparts' appearance, not their stats.
The chainsaw sword, though, was Roy's old reliable. It had carried him through the days before his stats went through the roof.
Today, he picked it up again to take on these three slashers.
The familiar grip, the chain, the teeth—holding the chainsaw sword felt like an extension of his arm.
Roy hit the button, and the motor roared to life, the chain screeching against the air.
"That's the feeling!"
Michael Myers lunged at Roy with a kitchen knife, but Roy easily parried with the chainsaw sword, slicing into Michael's arm.
The damage, though, was minimal—just a small cut. This guy's defense was no joke.
Then Leatherface swung his chainsaw down at Roy's head. Roy blocked with his chainsaw sword, but the chains of both weapons got tangled.
Seizing the moment, Jason slashed at Roy's side with his machete.
Roy had no choice but to back off, dodging Jason's attack.
The slashers weren't exactly fast, and in a one-on-one, Roy could've taken any of them easily. The problem was their teamwork—they attacked in sequence, making it hard for Roy to counter.
It felt like being Lu Bu ganged up on by Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei. Roy could dominate any one of them solo, but they weren't playing fair.
He needed to take one out to even the odds.
Of the three, Leatherface was the weakest. In the movies, he was just a deformed guy with above-average strength—not like Michael, possessed by an evil spirit, or Jason, an undead juggernaut.
Michael was the next weakest. His track record and strength didn't quite match Jason's.
Jason, the anti-vice crusader, had slaughtered his way from Crystal Lake to New York and even into space. The guy was a beast.
So Roy locked onto Leatherface.
Under the trio's relentless assault, Roy was backed up against a wall. Spotting an opening, he kicked off the wall, vaulting over their heads.
From behind, he swung his chainsaw sword at Leatherface's neck.
Blood sprayed from the wound, but the sword didn't sever his head. Michael and Jason's attacks forced Roy to let go of the weapon.
Still, Leatherface was badly injured and couldn't attack for now.
That left Roy facing just Michael and Jason.
Michael's kitchen knife had a short reach and limited range. Ignoring him, Roy charged at Jason.
Dodging Jason's machete, Roy ripped off his hockey mask and tossed it away, exposing his deformed face to the crowd.
Jason, deeply insecure about his appearance, immediately covered his face and scrambled for the mask.
Now, it was just Roy and Michael.
"Sorry, brother-in-law!"
Roy activated his Fear Incarnate form—a purely mental ability that worked in the dream world.
His body turned into a shadowy black mass, plunging anyone who looked at him into a vision of terror.
The crowd in the stands reacted strongly, but Freddy had them all restrained, preventing chaos.
Michael, being the closest, was hit hardest, trapped in a deep fear.
In his childhood, Michael's rare genetic condition let him see terrifying spirits daily. Those nightmarish experiences drove him to insanity, leading him to be possessed by an evil spirit and kill his parents and sister.
When he came to his senses, he was fully unhinged, becoming a serial killer who struck every Halloween.
"Look into my eyes!"
In Fear Incarnate form, Roy's shadowy arm grabbed Michael's neck, lifting him off the ground.
"Ahh!"
To everyone's surprise, the usually silent Michael let out a childlike scream.
Then Roy felt something off. A strange energy was flowing from Michael into his body.
It was fear.
Roy was draining Michael's fear—and with it, his strength. Michael visibly weakened, his physical stats plummeting.
With a quick twist, Roy snapped Michael's neck, finishing him.
Freddy, breaking free of the fear illusion, saw this and panicked.
"Idiots! Three-on-one, and you still get reverse-killed? Do you even know how to fight?!"
Freddy wanted to jump into the arena himself, but that wasn't happening. He was a coward who only talked big.
Leatherface, shaking off the fear illusion, yanked the chainsaw sword from his neck and charged at Roy, dual-wielding it with his own chainsaw.
Roy, still in Fear Incarnate form, swatted him down with a mutated shadowy arm.
He hadn't expected Fear Incarnate to be this powerful in the dream world. If he'd known, he would've used it from the start.
Meanwhile, Jason, having retrieved his mask, came charging back.
As an undead, Jason was highly resistant to mental attacks. But just like with Michael, Roy grabbed him and drained his fear and strength.
By now, Roy's stats in the dream world had likely broken past 200, boosted by absorbing the attributes of two stat monsters.
The dream world began to tremble, the ground cracking layer by layer.
Freddy's face twisted as he saw the changes.
"Damn it, that thing's coming!"
That thing? What thing?
Roy, who'd been keeping an eye on Freddy, found the comment odd.
But before he could dwell on it, Leatherface—ever the stubborn one—charged again. Roy pinned him down, draining his fear and strength too.
Now, the dream world was boiling over.
Roy noticed the sky peeling away, revealing patches of pitch-black voids.
It looked like the dream world was collapsing.
The thing is, this dream world was built from the dreams of over a thousand people, making it vast and stable. Even with two hundred people gone, eight hundred remained—it shouldn't be collapsing like this.
Roy suspected Freddy was up to something.
"Freddy, what the hell did you do?!"
As he spoke, Roy noticed Freddy trying—and failing—to escape.
"Moron! You should be asking yourself that! What the hell did you do to awaken the Primordial Fear?!"
Primordial Fear?
There was no time to think. The dream world's collapse was accelerating. If it kept going, everyone would be plunged into endless darkness.
But they couldn't leave the dream world—not even Freddy or Roy, both of whom had nightmare abilities.
Something had locked the dream world down.
At the same time, black energy tendrils emerged from the dark voids, similar to Roy's Touch of Darkness but far more twisted and profound, instilling instinctive fear.
Roy dropped his Fear Incarnate form, leaped onto a high platform, and grabbed Freddy.
"Talk, damn it! What's the Primordial Fear?!"
Freddy, realizing escape was impossible, answered reluctantly.
"The Primordial Fear—it's the collective embodiment of all human fears and nightmares!"
Mary…