Those emerald eyes held a terror far beyond any legendary demon or ghost.
In the depths of those pupils reflected an endless blood-colored abyss, the wails of billions of souls, a miniature of hell itself.
A blood-red hell built entirely from pure bloodbath.
Wilson's legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground.
A pale yellow liquid seeped uncontrollably from beneath him, leaving a glaring stain upon the million-dollar Persian carpet.
Wilson—one of the core members of the company's board of directors, a man whose hands were stained with the blood of billions through his role in launching this apocalypse.
Yet before Zeroy, before the icy hostility of this Headhunter, his will was as fragile as that of a child, trembling uncontrollably.
BOOOOMM!!
Scarlet arcs of blade light erupted, shredding the thick alloy walls like paper.
"Open fire! Cover Mr. Wilson's retreat!"
The cybernetic soldiers, lying in wait, acted promptly. Dozens of customized rifles spat tongues of fire, pouring a storm of bullets into the breach.
Two soldiers seized the chance to rush forward, dragging the limp Wilson toward the emergency passage.
Clad head-to-toe in armor that revealed not a scrap of flesh, these soldiers knew exactly what was happening. They had seen, through the cameras, what Zeroy had done within the base.
Even so, they did not falter. They responded with cold precision.
Alternating fire, throwing grenades, covering, and retreating in flawless coordination.
They were the elite—cybernetically modified, trained under the harshest conditions. Even death could not make them show fear or cowardice.
They would execute their mission to the end, even if only one remained alive.
And then—the first soldier was smashed against the ceiling, his body shattering like blocks of wood.
Then the second, the third…
Thirty seconds later, the gunfire ceased. The blood of every soldier stained the chamber floor.
The last two soldiers dragging Wilson were caught and decapitated.
A soldier's severed head rolled before Wilson, its dead eyes staring straight into his.
Terror washed away, replaced by brutal clarity. The sight dragged Wilson's mind back from the brink of collapse.
"No… no! Please spare me! I can give you everything—everything!"
His voice cracked, a wretched, tearful plea crawling from his throat, as pitiful as an insect.
"..."
Zeroy did not react. Expressionless, she stooped to pick up a dagger and a coil of rope from a corpse. She tied the rope to the hilt in one swift motion.
Then, with a flick, the dagger plunged deep into Wilson's thigh, piercing to the bone.
His scream shrieked through the corridor.
Zeroy ignored it, hauling him back to the chamber by the rope. Each drag tore the wound further open, peeling flesh from bone.
The emergency lights stretched their shadows grotesquely along the corridor, a twisted mural of hell.
The video conference was still live. The board members' faces flickered on the screens, frozen with dread.
Zeroy strode into the center of the room, spinning her crimson blade once before severing one of Wilson's legs without a second thought.
"AAAHHH—!"
Wilson's shriek was inhuman, snot and tears mixing with blood across his face.
Yet survival instinct and terror kept him conscious. Sobbing, convulsing in pain, he dragged himself toward the passage.
His nails tore deep gouges into the metal floor, while blood from his stump painted a hideous trail.
"Help… help me…"
But it wasn't over.
Zeroy stepped forward and sliced off his hand as well.
Now he couldn't crawl at all.
She simply stood by, listening to his screams.
As a weapon of war, her kills were always about efficiency. She had no interest in torture.
Regardless, against a creature so human yet inhuman as this, granting a clean death would be far too merciful.
When his cries began to weaken, Zeroy seized him by the hair, dragging half his body up with one hand.
He was too far gone to resist. Even with his hair pulling the weight of his body, he could only whimper faintly.
"Look at me."
Wilson obeyed instinctively, meeting her gaze.
And then Zeroy activated her [Headhunter] title ability.
Wilson, drained of blood and broken by torment, no longer had the strength even to scream.
Though gradually, fear crawled back across his face.
"Ah… ahhh…"
This time, his voice was only meaningless shrieks.
"Feel it. This is the pain and hatred of the innocents."
Wilson died.
Before the eyes of every director, not by Zeroy's blade—but by sheer fright.
After his death, Zeroy cut off his head and held it before the camera.
"You're next. I will find you."
"W-wait, we can talk!" one director shouted in terror.
"Fools."
There was nothing to say. Zeroy unleashed [Headhunter] on them all.
As a chorus of horrified screams erupted, every feed cut to black.
The intimidation complete, Zeroy tossed Wilson's head aside and sat at the terminal.
The meeting was over, but it was enough. Through the terminal, she traced the connections, extracting the real-world locations of every participant.
Boxed.
However, too far away. Across seas and continents. She only had her legs—she couldn't reach them.
If she had a personal craft, like a Hercules-class carrier, she could go door-to-door herself.
For now, she stored the addresses away to pursue if she ever returned.
With the list secured, Zeroy hacked deeper into the company's systems.
If she couldn't kill them now, then she would cripple them another way—by tearing the system itself apart—the company would fall.
...
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