The night cracked open with screams.
Shadows poured through the broken charms, claws tearing against stone, teeth snapping like bones splintering. Gethrel Town, so noisy with merchants just hours ago, now drowned in panic.
Yami stood in the middle of the street, scythe in his hands, his chest tight.
He wasn't dreaming. He wasn't hallucinating. The world was too sharp. Too cruel.
The Reaper's Eyes burned. His vision split with words.
Predator-Class Beast – Starving WolfCondition: Frenzied.Hunger: 95%.Warning: Immediate Danger.
A wolf. No—something worse. Its frame was wrong. Too thin. Its fur stretched over bone. Teeth glistened with drool that sizzled when it touched the ground.
And it was staring straight at him.
"...Tch."
Yami's body tensed. He wasn't strong. He wasn't fast. He barely even ate most days back home. But the scythe in his hands pulled heavy, like it wasn't just a weapon but a chain.
The wolf lunged.
His arms moved before his mind caught up. The scythe sliced through the air with a whistle, black steel colliding with flesh. Blood sprayed. But it didn't hit the ground.
The blade drank it.
Red lines crawled across the weapon, pulsing, veins filling with stolen life. The wolf collapsed, eyes wide, body shriveling as if emptied.
Yami staggered back, staring at the weapon. His breathing was ragged.
Blood Quality Acquired: Low.Evolution Threshold: 1/100.
"…What the hell… is this?" His voice shook.
The scythe thrummed in his grip, like a heart that wasn't his.
Around him, the town spiraled deeper into chaos. Guards shouted orders, trying to push civilians toward safety. Monsters crashed through alleys—wolf packs, insect-like crawlers, twisted boars with tusks long as blades. The charms above flickered, sparks showering as the barrier thinned.
Yami's eyes wouldn't stop. Every time he looked, the truth carved itself across his vision.
Human – CivilianCondition: Bleeding.Hunger: 63%.Warning: Critical.
Human – GuardCondition: Broken arm.Hunger: 28%.Warning: Unable to fight.
It was endless. People weren't just faces anymore. They were injuries. Death sentences waiting for his confirmation.
He clenched his jaw. He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. That was all he ever did—survive by staying out of sight. Let others break while he endured.
But the Reaper's Eyes forced him to see.
A shriek cut through the air.
Yami turned. A child. The same one who had been darting between stalls the day before. Now cornered in an alley, a crawler-monster raising its jagged legs to strike.
The words flashed red across Yami's vision.
Human – ChildCondition: Fear-shock.Hunger: 15%.Warning: Fatal Threat.
His body moved.
The scythe cleaved through the crawler's legs, ichor spraying black across stone. The monster shrieked once before collapsing, its body twisting unnaturally. The blade drank again, shivering in his hands as veins of crimson spread further.
Blood Quality Acquired: Low.Evolution Threshold: 2/100.
The child stared up at him, wide-eyed, trembling.
Yami swallowed, his throat tight. "Go. Run."
The boy scrambled away without a word.
Yami exhaled slowly, chest burning. His arms ached like he'd been lifting iron. Not from fighting. From the scythe itself. Every swing bled strength.
The weapon wasn't just feeding. It was feeding on him.
The fight raged on. Gethrel's streets ran red, guards cut down, adventurers screaming curses as monsters overran barricades. Civilians stampeded, some trampled underfoot before they could escape.
Yami staggered through the madness, half-dragged by the scythe, half-driven by the Reaper's Eyes that refused to shut.
Every kill whispered into his vision.Every wound screamed in glowing warnings.
He wanted it to stop. He wanted to close his eyes and just—
But he couldn't.
The weapon wouldn't let him.
By the time the second wolf fell, his body shook with exhaustion. His insomnia always left him weak. Always left him hollow. Now, with blood soaking into the blade, that hollowness was being scraped clean.
He dropped to one knee, breath rattling, sweat clinging to his face. The scythe pulsed faintly. Almost pleased.
Around him, survivors were staring. Some whispering about the strange boy with the cursed weapon. Others calling him a savior. Neither fit.
Yami wanted none of it.
And then—
He froze.
Through the blur of blood and smoke, someone stood at the edge of the crowd. A girl.
Her hair was the same shade. Her eyes, the same shape. Even the way she clutched her hands together—identical.
His chest tightened. His throat locked.
"…No."
It couldn't be.
His sister was dead. Long dead. He had seen her body lowered into the earth. He had carried that weight for years.
Yet there she was.
Staring at him.
Alive.
Yami's hollow gaze trembled for the first time.
The scythe pulsed. The monsters howled. The charms shattered completely.
And all Yami could see was her.