Chapter 141: Kneel With The Brood
"Now this is what I'm fucking talking about! Look at that view! Fuck me that's pretty."
Slims had climbed onto a toppled slab of concrete, chest out, arms spread as he stared into the open land beyond Shatterbay. When he jumped back down, the energy never left him. Ever since his name had been called, it sat in his bones, loud and restless, like he might tear himself apart if he stood still.
Min clicked her tongue and shoved Split-jaw with two fingers.
"Keep him quiet. I swear to god, if I do it, I'm breaking his neck."
Split-jaw exhaled through his nose, shoulders sagging as he moved forward. He scooped up a rock as he went, rolling it in his palm with the patience of a man who'd dealt with bigger idiots.
"So what's the plan? We just pick a direction and start walking?"
Metal rang as Min slammed her new gauntlets together, plates locking for a second before she rolled her shoulders loose and looked to Seo-jin.
The edge bleeding off her was sharp enough to taste. He felt it and smiled. Past the ruined line of the city stretched uncontrolled land as far as the eye could carry, and to him it looked like a long table laid out end to end, every cut of meat still warm, still waiting.
"North first. We won't go deep. We establish a foothold, then we'll spread outward. Eyes open for dungeon drops. If it's close enough, we clear it. No exceptions. Understood?"
Min grinned.
"Easy."
He caught the way she moved, the way her stance kept adjusting without thought. She loved the new gear. She damn well better. The gauntlets were solid B-rank, dark alloy plates etched with gold runes along every edge. Each carried a half-shield, and when she brought them together they locked and expanded into a full kite shield, a pure black skeletal hand stretched wide across its face like it was reaching for something to crush.
It was as if they were made just for her...
"Boss?"
Lynn's voice came from his side, soft but steady. When he turned, the red of her hair caught the light first. With her youth restored, it was easier to forget how much she'd already endured. Between her healing and her aim, she was the best support among the humans for a run like this. That truth sat heavier than he liked.
"Yeah?"
Caught off balance by how casual he was, color crept into her cheeks as she shook her head and answered.
"I just wanted to say thanks for letting me come. You didn't have to. But I wanted you to know, I won't slow anyone down. I'll make sure I'm not a burden. I promise."
A faint smile tugged at him as his gaze returned to the Freelands.
"Promises aren't worth much when they cost nothing. What happens if you break it?"
[You really enjoy being an ass to her, don't you.]
'Quiet.'
[Don't tell me to—]
He ignored the system. Lynn faltered, shoulders drawing in for half a breath, then she stepped forward again, jaw set, eyes steady.
"Then I'll give up my place in the Dead Hands, a-and… I'll become your slave. For life."
She squeezed her eyes shut on the last words and missed the stone at her feet. Her toe caught. She pitched forward, arms windmilling, then stopped hard as he caught her.
They were close enough that she felt his breath brush her lips. His voice dropped, almost lost beneath the thud of her pulse.
"If you were mine, you'd do whatever I told you. No matter what. Right?"
She only managed only a few shallow nods.
He set her upright again and turned away, brow creasing like he was considering something mundane.
"Then you'd better keep that promise. Otherwise I'd make a terrible master."
"Oh gag on a dick!"
Min barely restrained herself from lunging. She turned away in open disgust, while a few of the watching men looked on with something like awe. Seeing the stone cold Lynn unravel that easily in the boss's hands only settled it for them.
They'd chosen the right man to follow.
"You're just jealous nobody can hold your big ass like that. Man's gotta be at least A—hey!"
A stone cut past Seo-jin's head. He laughed as he shouted, already stepping aside. He'd seen it coming. But he couldn't help it, poking the gorilla was becoming a habit, especially when he felt good. And he felt real fucking good.
Recent flashes kept surfacing. Finding every material on the auction he needed without compromise had been the first win. Then the recipe. Not just instructions, but a bound spell, one that mimicked an artisan's hands and judgment. When activated, it rebuilt the craft in open air, metal shaping itself step by step, deliberate and exact, like a demonstration meant to be watched.
The memory of pulling on the new suit still crawled across his skin. The way it drank in his chestpiece stayed sharp in his head. He'd almost bought the rest of his armor on the spot, but he'd stopped himself. There was loot to be found out here, and wasting DP on something he might replace would've been stupid. More than that, Thragdur mattered. Anything forged by the master for him would outclass auction trash by orders of magnitude.
The gun, though, hadn't been delayed. That one he'd bought without hesitation.
"All right. This is far enough."
He brought them to a halt once the city had dropped fully out of sight. The boundary was crossed. From here on, it was monster ground.
The world around them told the story in broken shapes: collapsed buildings swallowed by vines, monuments snapped and sinking into earth. What had once been a busy intersection lay cracked and warped, concrete split open like bone beneath decay.
They formed up without needing to be told. Min. Slims. Split-jaw. Lynn. John. A few others whose names hadn't earned space in his head yet. Every set of eyes burned with expectation.
"From here on out, stay sharp."
He drew in a measured breath and crushed the grin before it could show. This wasn't a place for posture. The Freelands didn't care how anyone felt. And this next part needed to be serious.
"The reason you're here is simple. Out of everyone in the Dead Hands, you're the ones I trust. What I'm about to show you stays buried. You leak it, you die."
The warning carried weight, even if most already knew the truth. Some didn't. And more than necessity, this moment was release. Out here, he didn't have to mask it. Didn't have to pretend at being something smaller.
Crimson system light tore out of him as he stripped away coat, jacket, then shirt. Bare skin caught the air. He turned his back to them and the twin growths split wide. Flesh stretched. Mouths opened. Low, tired screeches leaked out, muted the instant his will pressed down on them.
Slims, Split-jaw, and the others took involuntary steps back. None of them understood what they were seeing, but the pressure in the air shifted hard enough to make their instincts scream.
Then the retching started.
Acids and half-digested meat poured out. Ropes of intestine, slabs of muscle, splintered bone and wet fat followed, spilling without pause from the growths. It hit the ground in heavy slaps and began to spread.
The pool swelled, bubbled, then thickened. Shapes pushed up through it. Wrong shapes. Things that belonged in the kind of dreams people woke up screaming from.
Pain came first. His mass hauled itself out of the sludge like a furnace tearing free of slag. Horns glowed like cooling magma. His chest was thick as two men fused together. Flames rolled from between his fangs as he straightened and looked out over the open land.
Frenzy followed. Pure chaos. Panic dragged himself upright, giggling through clenched teeth, a dagger already pinned between them. His neck rolled loose as he stretched, tail snapping the air while he found his balance.
Snare rose next. The moment his eyes opened, they swept the group. Every gaze that passed over someone peeled them bare, Min included. He slammed the butt of his staff into the ground, then turned and dropped to one knee before Seo-jin.
Around the Commanders, lesser broodlings boiled up in waves. They screeched and twitched as they formed, some igniting briefly before stabilizing.
Hex emerged with his blindfold in place. Widow followed, already craning toward everything new. Bile came last, face turned away from Seo-jin, shaking hard. The rest of the unassigned broodlings clustered around them.
In minutes, more than two hundred and fifty combat bodies stood assembled in front of the stunned Dead Hands.
System light crawled back over Seo-jin as his suit sealed itself into place. He rolled his shoulders once, then turned to face them. Bloodlight leaked from his body, steady and controlled. His expression didn't shift.
"This is the Brood. My Brood. This is what the Dead Hands really are now. This is the strength we stop hiding."
A pause.
"And relax. They only bite when I tell them to. Except that one."
He pointed at Panic, who tilted his head, brows knitting as if confused.
"Boss?"
Slims voice came low, unsure. He edged forward, then snapped back when a lesser broodling snarled and bared teeth at him.
"Yes, Slims?"
He swallowed, forcing his eyes off the creature long enough to meet Seo-jin's stare.
"Is it— is it real? There's been talk. The guys saying you're not human anymore. No one's seen you eat. Or sleep. The new skills… we— I'll follow you regardless. But if we bring them back, the crew's gonna stop whispering and start asking."
Seo-jin tipped his head, studying him. The question wasn't reckless. It was framed tight, no gaps to slip through. That earned a sliver of respect.
"It's real. I'm not human."
Light burned behind his eyes as he stepped closer. Through the broodlink, a silent command rippled out. Hold. Watch. Be ready.
"You can call me a demon if you want. It's not wrong. It's not right either. I'm something else. Something new. But above all...I am the Broodfather."
His gaze swept the field.
"And that is how you will address me from now on."
Min snorted, rolling her eyes like it was theater. Still, her focus never left him, no matter how much she pretended otherwise.
Lynn stood rigid, cheeks flushed, breath shallow. She stared at the assembled mass, then at him. The man who haunted her sleep, who kept her lonely nights warm. The weight of it all pressed in, heavy enough to make her knees feel weak.
Split-jaw didn't flinch. The old bastard stayed still, face carved from stone. He'd been there at the start. Back when Seo-jin was still a kid he could call brat without losing teeth. He'd felt the shift long before the rumors spread. Told himself it was trauma. Fae rot. Time doing its damage.
Seeing it now burned that lie away.
Something locked into place. Especially when he thought of Min. Of Gregor. How they'd moved since Seo-jin's return. They knew. They'd accepted it.
If they could, so could he.
Without a word, Split-jaw stepped forward, mirrored Snare's motion, and dropped to one knee.
"Not sure how this shit works."
Split-jaw's voice was rough, unpolished.
"But I've been a Dead Hand since day one. I'm not stopping now. If the Dead Hands follow the Broodfather—so do I."
He bowed his head.
Slims followed without hesitation. Then Lynn. Then the rest, steel and resolve folding into the dirt in a staggered wave. Only Min and John remained standing. Min because she'd rather chew glass than kneel for him at this point. John because he already had. The bald man caught Seo-jin's eye and felt a flicker of approval. The confidence was earned.
As if refusing to be outdone by human flesh and pride, the brood moved as one. Hundreds of bodies lowered in perfect sync. Heads bowed. Spines bent. A living tide of obedience pressing into the cracked ground.
Seo-jin felt things were getting out of hand a bit. His eyes burned brighter as his arm came up, palm open. The timing was perfect. The thing he'd warned the brood about had finally shown itself.
John's face drained of color as system light poured along Seo-jin's forearm. Metal formed with a wet snap of force—an oversized shotgun, matte black veined with electric blue, humming with stored violence.
B—BOOM!
Both barrels thundered. Gunpowder and lightning tore free, the recoil ripping the air apart. Two slugs punched clean through the skull of a charging beast.
The massive silver ape died mid-leap.
Its corpse hit hard, plowing a trench through dirt and ruin before skidding to a stop at John's feet, close enough to splash him with blood and pulverized bone.
"Broodlings! Prepare for attack."
From the entire brood, bloodlight and fire detonated outward, a crushing wave of hunger and intent that slammed into every body present. The brood followed with a roar.
And the Freelands answered back.
Putting away his new toy, Seo-jin grinned wide as twin cleavers forced their way out of his flesh, wet and eager. His sleeves peeled back on their own. His aura surged, violent and absolute.
It was time to feed.