Chapter 52:
Two cleavers, each the size of a man, hung in the air like slabs of iron. Before anyone could breathe, they blurred. The Elderwarren didn't fall so much as explode—torsos split, limbs ripped loose, skulls caved and flung across the rock. Stone shook with the rapid impacts. Blood sprayed in sheets, thick enough to sting eyes and choke the smell of meat into every breath.
Dirk froze as it hit his face. Hot, slick, running down his chin. He didn't blink. Couldn't. His boss stood there, cleavers dragging rivers of gore, carving through monsters the way a butcher strips bones. For a moment he thought it was madness, then realized the thought wasn't far off.
[+180Exp]
[+3SM]
[+200Exp]
[+3SM]
[Feed // Activated]
[+17HP]
[Level // 12]
[Exp // 2314/2614]
[HP // 414/460]
[SM // 31/36]
Seo-jin rolled his shoulders as he deactivated Hellfire, ribs pulling and popping as torn flesh sealed under Feed. He glanced at the wreckage at his feet—just heaps now—and felt nothing. Empty work. Too easy. Not enough weight behind the kill.
When he turned back to the group, Lynn was already at his side, hands raised, palms glowing green.
"That was amazing!"
Her voice cracked with awe.
Heat burned up his neck. He realized he was blushing. Scowling, he cleared his throat and shouldered past her. Feed had done the work already.
She had no idea, and he wouldn't bother thinking on it again. But it was the first genuine praise he'd heard. The system's usual bullshit didn't count.
"Line up. Tell me your abilities."
They froze. Eyes flicked from his healing ribs, then his arms and the throbbing tendons laced around his blades, then to his eyes, red and unblinking.
"Now."
They moved quick. Even Lynn stepped forward until he lifted a cleaver in her path.
"I know what you can do."
He pointed at the balding one—John.
"You too. Over there."
John blinked dumb, then scurried aside. His weakness stank. The demon in Seo-jin wanted to tear his throat. But something held him back.
The rest began to list their skills, one by one starting with Dirk:
"Last Push."
"Pulse Warning."
"Loadbearer's Grip."
"Skin Cloak."
"Noise Thrower."
"Pathfinder's Sense."
When the last finished, Seo-jin's eyes narrowed...he'd misjudged them. They weren't strong, but they weren't useless either. Together, they had teeth.
'Perfect for runners.'
Individually, useless. Together, harder to pin down.
Fog blinds. Noise misleads. Cloak hides. Pathfinder finds the gap. Pulse twitches before danger lands. Mender plugs holes, Loadbearer drags the body, Dirk's stamina surge buys escape.
No strength. No power. Just survival strung together...rats built to slip the net. He let the thought settle, eyes narrowing.
'Not bad. For prey.'
Butcher's Wrath still burned in his veins, but he decided to keep them active. This was a perfect time for a test.
"Listen up. You have questions, so I'll make this simple."
The words rattled the chamber. His mind drifted for a split second, pulling taut, smoother this time, no stutter, no catch. The humans felt it, then heard it. They recoiled as the Twinbacks shrieked...two piercing screams that split the air like blades on bone.
He smirked as a thought curled.
"Summon Broodlings."
The command was theater, nothing more. A way to distract from the truth. The mouths on his back tore wider, stretching skin until it split. The sound deepened, then both throats convulsed. Chunks of bile and blood poured out, splattering the floor in thick ropes until shapes crawled free.
Pain dragged himself upright, chest swelling, gore dripping down his arms as he scraped filth from his frame. Panic coughed up a dagger, raised it high, then let the bile run down its edge into the cracks of his grin.
"What the fuck—?!"
"Boss?!"
The group staggered. Shock broke their faces into twitching masks. Two demons tearing free of their leader's spine was too much for most. Dirk alone locked eyes with him, jaw set, knuckles white around his hammers. He wanted to step forward, words forming, but they died in his throat.
Lynn didn't blink. Didn't even look away. Her gaze stayed nailed to Seo-jin, as if the monsters vomiting onto the stone didn't exist. Worship, plain and raw.
Pain and Panic had arrived, dripping, silent, staring at the humans like the meat was already portioned.
Seo-jin swept his eyes across them, slow, reading every twitch and flinch. Fear painted most, weakness clung to all, but there were sparks worth noting. He filed those faces away.
"This should answer some of your questions. To survive...to claw my way back to Earth, I made a deal with a demon to change my class."
Their faces shifted. Fear, doubt, anger. He marked a few more in silence.
Dirk broke first, his voice cracking.
"But Boss, demons...everyone knows you can't—"
"I didn't say you could speak."
Bloodlight leapt off his skin. Pain and Panic growled low, their aura grinding against his own until the chamber seemed to suffocate.
"I am still your Boss. That hasn't changed. If this is too much for you, leave. This dungeon won't end quick. You can sit it out, wait to see who crawls back alive."
He raised a cleaver and pointed toward the gaping wound in the stone where his broodlings were spawned.
"Up there. Hide in the hole until it's done. Or stay with the Dead Hands. Your choice. I won't chain cowards."
Lynn shifted, ready to step forward, her mouth half-open—
"This is a fucking joke, right?!"
The shout cut her flat.
Seo-jin's brow lifted. Not at the anger, but the weight behind it.
Dirk's face twisted, wet around the eyes, rage trembling through every movement. His hammers shook in his grip.
"This isn't possible! You wouldn't—no matter what you went through, you wouldn't throw away what you said! I don't believe it!"
Memories cracked open again. No control, and starting to annoy him, just reels of thought jammed into his skull, flickering too fast to stop.
Dirk a few years back. Fresh meat then. Just another kid clinging to numbers for safety. He'd stood on a rooftop, bruised eye swelling shut, staring over the city like it owed him something.
The real Seo-jin had found him there. The boy had been catching hell from the crew, and instead of bowing out, he'd swung back. That spark drew Seo-jin in. But annoyance followed fast...the brat reeked of self pity and misdirected anger.
His story spilled easy enough. Orphan. Parents ripped apart in a Hell dungeon. Nothing special. A dime a dozen.
But the kid wanted revenge, hated himself for being too weak to take it. Seo-jin, bleeding idealist back then, cut him a deal. Runners weren't lackeys, they kept food in bellies, weapons in hands, territory locked down. The work made the Dead Hands live. So he promised the boy: carve a name as a runner, and the gang would carve their name into demon corpses. Becoming demon slayers.
The memory snapped apart. Immediately, the irony nearly dragged a laugh out of him as he looked at Dirk. He nearly began to drool.
Dirk's face was burning now, eyes wild. He lifted his hammer at Seo-jin with both hands.
"You're not him. No fucking way. You're just a demon wearing his skin!"
Wohan Seo-jin held steady. He let the words bleed past, forced his face blank. The weakling hit it right on the head.
"My word still stands."
"I'd never follow demon-tainted scum."
Dirk spat the last word like it was a death sentence. His grip didn't falter. He edged back toward the others, hammer raised high, every inch of him ready to break.
"I don't know what's going on, but I'll stay… sorry, Boss Wohan."
The one with the noise trick spoke, shrinking back like he'd swallowed his tongue. Another one Seo-jin had already marked.
A few more followed, edging in with Dirk. Fear in their eyes. Hatred. Suspicion.
His instincts had been right. The test had been successful.
Every one he'd mentally logged now stood against him. Only Lynn—and John, of all people—held their ground. And John's stare wasn't out of loyalty. Not fear either. Greed. Azakh-Tur almost respected it.
'Time to close this experiment.'
The smile crept before he could stop it, baring teeth. The humans froze at once. They felt the shift. They saw the predator step up.
"You can stay here. I won't stop you."
He turned, cleavers loose at his sides. The Twinback mouths smiled wide behind him, dripping hunger, oozing hate.
'Let's see what those two make of this.'
Lynn and John's test wasn't finished.
Azakh-Tur stopped mid-step. Dirk and the others caught it instantly...along with the detail he wanted them to see. The two broodlings hadn't budged, their eyes still fixed on the humans.
"Oh… one thing. My word doesn't cover them. And I'd be a shit boss to deny them a taste of human flesh."
Dirk reacted first, activating his skill. A pale glow bled from his chest, flashing across the others. Their bodies tensed, stamina rushing back.
"John!"
Dirk barked for cover but John didn't move. He spat a curse, yanking both hammers up.
"Everyone r—!"
Too late.
Panic had already buried his dagger in the nearest throat, ripping it wide. The body collapsed before the shout finished. Pain crashed down a heartbeat later, flattening another in a wet crunch.
The chamber erupted. Screams, curses, boots scraping stone.
Blood sprayed. Flesh split.
Pain and Panic began to tear through them like they were gutting a carcass.