The Curse-Filled Swamp lay about five miles from the Demon Hunters' compound—the last known location of the two B‑rank demons Jackson and Alice had been assigned to "kill," though neither of them intended to do that if it could be avoided. "Hey, Rockerboy, why's this place called the Curse-Filled Swamp?" Alice asked. "Simple," Jackson replied bluntly. "Everyone who's gone into this swamp has never come out." "Then why the hell are we out here?!" Alice shouted. Jackson kept his cool. "Because I know you can handle yourself—and I know I can handle myself. We'll be fine, whatever comes our way." He paused, studying her. "Looks like you've finally started to value life, huh? Before you got to the compound, I read your file. 'Alice the Merciless.' Quite the nickname. Just make sure you know where to aim that merciless streak." Alice fell silent, taken aback. "I'll try to keep it in mind. I don't know why my attitude's changing so much. A month ago, none of this would've happened." Jackson didn't hesitate. "That's easy. You finally found something worth caring about. You might not see it yet, but your heart does. Stay on the path—you'll figure it out." Alice nodded and followed Jackson deeper into the forest.
Twenty minutes later, Jackson spotted the demons. The first was a small, slender type with pale skin and a twitchy demeanor, able to morph his hands into whatever weapon he pleased. The second was a hulking goliath, similar to the one Alice had fought earlier—towering, broad-shouldered, with jagged horns and a thick hide that shimmered faintly in the swamp's mist. The air was heavy with moisture, and the distant croaks of unseen creatures echoed through the twisted trees. "Alright, Alice," Jackson said, eyes locked on the pair. "Take your pick. Big or small?" Alice studied them both before comfortably choosing the latter. "Alright. I'll meet you when this is over. Try not to die." Jackson stormed off toward the massive demon, katana already drawn. "Alright, Alice. You got this," she thought to herself, stepping out of the wooded edge and deeper into the heart of the swamp. The ground squelched beneath her heels, and the fog thickened as she approached the smaller demon. He stood calmly in a clearing surrounded by crooked trees and stagnant pools of dark water. "Alice, wasn't it? Wasn't expecting to see you so soon," he said, voice smooth and mocking. "I heard about your victory against the fire demon, and I must say—bravo. However, you'll attain no such victory against me." Alice narrowed her eyes, recognizing him as the onlooker from her last battle. Aside from his crimson trench coat and tailored suit, there were no discerning features—no scars, no aura spikes, no visible weapons. Just that smug expression. "I don't know why you've got such a keen interest in me, and I can assume you're not gonna tell me anything without a fight. But know one thing—I will win. No matter how much damage I take, I'll kick that posh arse of yours until you're ready to talk," she said, wrapping her arms with the same bandages she'd infused with aura earlier. "My my, how brutish," the demon replied, smirking. "Very off-putting for a lady with your looks. Let's see if you can live up to the bar you just set."
Mere seconds later, the suited demon saw a fist barreling toward his face, forcing him to step back at the last possible moment. "Not only are you a brute, but you also stoop so low as to jumpstart a fight without so much as a warning? How barbaric," he said, looking genuinely disappointed. Alice smirked. "You think I'd ask permission to knock your teeth out? Get real. Your kind would happily do the same to us, so I see no reason to be polite. Now shut up and bring it, or you'll die before you even realize what happened." The demon sighed dramatically. "I suppose you're right. Can't converse with barbarians, it seemeth." Alice surged forward, trying to catch him off guard, but was startled to see his hand already outstretched, closing in around her face. She bent backward at the last second, narrowly dodging the grab, and followed with a low sweeping kick aimed at his legs. The demon countered with a kick of his own—his strike heavier, sharper—sending Alice skidding across the damp swamp floor for five or six meters, mud spraying in her wake. She hit the ground hard but refused to let it rattle her; she pushed herself up immediately, heels sinking slightly into the soft earth as she began circling him, eyes scanning for blind spots or weak points. The fog drifted between them, the distant croak of swamp creatures echoing through the twisted trees. Slowly, a grin crept across her face. "Gotcha."
Alice dashed forward without hesitation, making a straight beeline for the demon's face. "Really? Another frontal attack? How mundane," he scoffed as he prepared for another counter—only for Alice to feint a right hook at the last second, slip behind him, and drive a brutal kick into his spine. The impact sent him flying, bones cracking audibly as he skidded through mud and swamp water. Before he could even register the blow, Alice was already in front of him again, her fist slamming into his jaw and launching him through three trees before he crashed into the marsh below. Well, this is a surprise. Didn't expect to incur this much damage. Perhaps I should take things a little more seriously… hmm? the suited demon thought as he rose, brushing muck from his coat. "Oh, Alice, I must ask—why are you holding back? I'm not a half-demon. You should fight me at your fullest. You'll die if you don't." With that, he bolted forward, and in the blink of an eye his hand was already streaking toward her face again. Alice ducked just in time, but the demon smirked as his hand morphed into a sickle mid-swing, bringing it down toward her head. She twisted away, barely avoiding a fatal strike, though the tip grazed her left arm and drew a thin line of blood. He gave her no room to breathe; the sickle arm whipped toward her abdomen, this time far faster. Alice caught the blade between both hands, stopping it mere inches before it carved into her. "Oh, honey… what will you do about my other hand?" the demon purred as his free arm morphed into a second sickle—and drove straight into her right arm.
The demon watched her with a smug smirk, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared; he had expected Alice to scream, to crumble, to react in agony—but she remained undeterred, driving the thin tip of her heel into his abdomen while yanking her arm free from the sickle embedded in it. The air burst from his lungs in shock, and before he could process what happened, Alice had torn herself loose—skin and flesh ripping open in the process—yet she didn't flinch. "My oh my, aren't you in pain? Surely ripping your arm to shreds would elicit some sort of reaction," the demon said, genuinely confused. "Of course it hurts, and of course I want to scream," Alice replied, glaring daggers at him, "but I figured you out—why you go for the spots that hurt the most, the ones that get the loudest, most guttural reaction." "And what is that?" he asked. Alice's expression didn't budge. "Because the more pain your opponent feels—and the more they scream—the stronger you get. But if they don't react, your power stagnates. That's why you've been getting more and more frustrated every time I dodge your most sadistic attacks." The demon sighed. "It appears I've been found out. Though I must ask—what good will this information do for a dead woman?" He lunged forward, his hands morphing from sickles into long whips lined with jagged shards of glass, flinging them at her with breakneck speed. Alice backflipped through most of the strikes, mud splashing beneath her as she searched for any blind spot in his attack pattern. He keeps the whips about five meters ahead of him so he won't get hit… and they stretch maybe fifteen meters, assuming he can't shorten them for close quarters, she thought. If I channel my aura into my legs and sprint, I might land a solid blow. Only one way to find out. Alice halted her movement and began channeling aura into her legs. The demon noticed instantly. "Oh honey, you think I'd just let you do that?" He snapped the whips at her, striking her head, chest, and legs—tearing chunks of her clothes and drawing blood—but she didn't move an inch. Not a flinch. Not a sound. The demon retracted the whips, morphing them back into sickles as he prepared to finish her off. Bingo, Alice thought. The moment he took a step, she launched herself forward—breaking the sound barrier as she closed the distance—spinning midair before driving a full‑powered kick straight into his abdomen…