Ficool

Chapter 29 - A Looming Gust

[Planet: Earth]

[Country (City): Istanbul, Turkey]

The room stank of blood and rot. A single lightbulb buzzed overhead, swaying slightly, throwing jagged shadows across the basement walls.

"I won't ask nicely anymore," a cold voice echoed, muffled through the filter of a gas mask. The speaker wore a blue hoodie pulled low over his head. His face and hair were completely hidden as he loomed over the man tied to the chair.

The prisoner was bald, his lips cracked and his body covered in bruises. Despite the blood dribbling from his mouth, he managed to twist his face into a crooked, mocking grin.

"I won't tell you anything," the bald man spat, literally. The red fleck hit the masked man's hoodie and slid down.

The interrogator exhaled slowly, the sound metallic behind the mask. "Fine. Have it your way."

[Absolute Zero]

The temperature plummeted. Frost crawled across the prisoner's skin as his breath hitched in his throat. His smile faltered into horror as ice spread from within him. In seconds, his flesh froze solid—then shattered with a crackling sound as the masked man pushed the body back. The corpse splintered into hundreds of crystalline shards across the concrete floor.

One shard slid into the light. Etched into it, barely visible, was a familiar sigil—the emblem of the Andras Cult.

The interrogator pulled off his mask. Green eyes gleamed beneath strands of damp blue hair. His pale face was expressionless as he tapped the earpiece in his ear.

"X," he said flatly, "these insects are irritating. Twenty-seven of them, and not one has broken. Their willpower is annoyingly strong."

The voice on the other end was smooth, detached. "Victor, leave it for now. The conference is more important. Prepare yourself."

Victor pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing at the metallic stench that clung to the basement. "A conference, huh? Sounds boring. But fine."

He glanced toward the corner where several bodies lay stacked like discarded meat, already starting to rot. "I'll clean this up first."

With a faint sigh, Victor tugged down his hood, exposing the tattoo-like symbol etched across the back of his neck.

[Player Name: Victor]

[Title: Europe's Rank 5]

[Country of Origin: Turkey]

[Codename: Coldkiller]

[Outside the Tower – Amsterdam]

Two figures lay sprawled on the cobblestone street outside the Tower's exit, gasping for breath as though they had just clawed their way back from death.

Ryan's chest heaved as he turned his head toward the boy beside him. "I… I don't know how you did that, but bro—" he wheezed, "I swear I thought we were dead."

Denzel managed only a weak laugh. His limbs felt like lead.

[FLASHBACK – 20 minutes earlier]

The mammoth's massive tusks carved through the floor like knives. Dust filled the air as the beast charged straight at them, the ground shaking with each thunderous step.

"Denzel, we're gonna die!" Ryan shouted. His eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched, bracing for the end.

But Denzel's voice rang out, sharp and almost desperate.

"Tame!"

For a heartbeat, silence. Then—impossible.

The towering mammoth stopped inches from them. Its furious eyes softened. Slowly, it lowered its massive head and nudged against Denzel like an affectionate pet.

Ryan's brain short-circuited. His jaw dropped open, words failing him as he watched the beast nuzzle the boy it had been seconds from trampling.

[System Notice: Congratulations! You've tamed your first monster.]

[Give it a command _ _]

Denzel's eyes went wide. "No way…"

But he had nothing to lose. "Bring us your broken tusk," he commanded cautiously.

The mammoth grumbled—then obediently pulled free its cracked tusk and placed it at their feet.

Ryan let out a strangled laugh, pointing as his voice cracked. "No f—freaking way. NO WAY!"

High above them, unseen, the Administrator Lola observed. Her lips curved faintly. "Interesting… he tamed a boss monster."

[End of Flashback]

[Floor 20 Quest: Find a 2m Long Tooth] [✓]

"So," Ryan said as the two sat at a quiet bar, nursing sodas, "are you going to the Alpha Project Conference?" His eyes sparkled like a kid begging for candy.

Denzel groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Ugh. Do I have a choice?"

Ryan clasped his hands under his chin in mock prayer.

"…Fine," Denzel muttered.

Ryan grinned triumphantly.

[Next Stop: Alpha Project, Paris]

It was 10:00 p.m. when Denzel finally pulled out his phone. Between the chaos of Floor 20 and Ryan's antics, he hadn't contacted his parents. He quickly tapped a message: Back in town. Heading home soon.

He had no idea the news waiting for him would change everything.

The streets of his neighborhood were lively as always. Street vendors packed up their stalls, children ran between alleys, and the glow of neon signs reflected on the damp pavement.

Denzel turned down a quieter corner before answering his buzzing phone.

"Hello, Dad! I just got back. Everyone doing alright?" His voice was light, cheerful.

Silence. For several seconds, only the faint crackle of the line. Then his father's voice, low and restless:

"Denzel… we'll talk when you get home. We have news."

The unease in his tone chilled Denzel. He ended the call without another word and broke into a sprint.

His front door creaked as he pushed it open.

Both of his parents sat at the dining table. His father's expression was stiff, cold. His mother's face was red and swollen from tears.

Denzel froze at the doorway. The air was thick with grief.

He stepped forward slowly. His father gestured for him to sit.

"Denzel," his father began, voice heavy, "a month ago… right after you left for the Tower… Leon disappeared."

The words hit like a physical blow. Denzel's body jolted as if struck by lightning. "What?!"

His mother sobbed into her hands. His father lowered his head, jaw tight.

"They said he was last seen at the hospital where Sylvie was admitted. Witnesses claim he stormed out in anger. After that, nothing. Some believe his disappearance is linked to the Andras Cult."

The room blurred as Denzel tried to process the words. Leon. Gone?

His parents stood slowly, his father placing a steadying hand on his mother's shoulder as he guided her away. They disappeared down the hall, leaving Denzel alone.

The silence pressed against him.

Inside, a war raged.

Why… why do things always have to change? His teeth clenched. His fists shook. His nails dug crescents into his palms.

He had lived this life twice. And still, he was powerless.

Had he grown arrogant? Careless?

"No…" he whispered, then louder, his lips twitching into a bitter smile. "No. This isn't coincidence."

His chest rose and fell rapidly as laughter nearly bubbled out. He pressed his hands to his face, trembling.

"I get it now. I finally understand what you meant." His eyes glinted with a mad clarity. "This game was set to Psycho Mode from the start."

He lowered his hands. His smile widened.

"Fine. I'll play it your way."

[The Creator Smiles]

END OF VOLUME 1

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