The night was thick, suffocating, like cold, corrupted blood seeping across the world.
A crescent Moon hung solitary above the forest, its pale light dim, like the resentful tears of a demon. Dark clouds slithered across the sky, forming a blurred, bloody mask that devoured the moonlight.
The forest was silent, oppressive, as if every living thing feared death. Occasionally, eerie laughter echoed, accompanied by fleeting figures—ghouls, or perhaps the mind playing tricks.
Towering, twisted trees loomed, their shadows unnatural and alluring. Heavy ropes swayed from decayed limbs, dangling corpses gently rocking in the wind.
The nooses were tight, the corpses grotesque: eyes wide and staring, tongues protruding, faces pale and gnawed, evidence of torture or predator attacks. Black hair clung to the ruined skulls, and the bodies bore unmistakable signs of long decay.
A winding path stretched into the darkness, as though leading straight to hell itself.
Without warning, a figure appeared on the path, terrifying and spectral.
"Is this the new world?"
Lucien Graves surveyed the dim environment, his eyes narrowing.
"Holy crap!"
A hanged man swung nearby, face rotten and terrifying. Lucien vanished instantly, reappearing five meters away, a two-meter Gatling gun in his hands, spinning rapidly, ready to fire.
Whether undead or spirit, he would send them all to the afterlife physically.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh…"
The wind sliced through the treetops like a curse, chilling the air. Lucien's frown deepened at the macabre scene, yet he remained calm. This place was clearly abnormal, a real-life horror movie.
He lowered the Gatling, lit a cigarette, and exhaled smoke. After killing Armin and drawing a random Transmigration, he had remained in the Attack Titan world for another year, cultivating.
Twelve months of dice rolls yielded mostly junk: roses, rice cookers, cups, chopsticks, flashlights, balloons, toy guns, backpacks, scarves, snacks, and toilet paper. Only ten boxes of cigarettes offered any real value.
Originally, Lucien had planned to remain seven to eight years, cultivating every skill to mastery. By now, he should have been invincible.
Yet after ten months, he realized no matter how he trained Shave, Geppo, Hardening, or regeneration, progress stalled.
He had likely reached the ceiling of the Attack Titan world.
Relief washed over him—at least the year-long hemorrhoid torment had ended. His posterior felt unprecedentedly comfortable, a near-liberation.
"It seems I can only bring small items."
Transmigration had limitations. Colossal and Mindless Titans could not follow, nor could the gold coins from the Pirate world.
If they could, havoc in a new world would have been effortless.
"First, figure out what world this is, then find the Son of Destiny, a Reincarnator, or another Transmigrator. Hopefully, a movie, anime, or novel I've seen before."
A bicycle appeared before him, a flashlight attached, and he moved slowly along the winding path.
The forest echoed only with the rhythmic sound of his tires.
"It's exciting, even this late at night," he muttered.
Thunder Breathing remained instinctive, balancing relaxation and vigilance. Shadows seemed to watch him, though he was unsure if it was imagination.
"Whoosh…"
A black shadow shot from the hillside.
Moonlight revealed a gleaming claw aimed at Lucien's throat.
"Crack…"
Instantly, he vanished, reappearing five meters away like golden lightning. Dust and dirt erupted around him.
"Fresh human," a bloodthirsty voice hissed.
A grotesque humanoid emerged: red eyes, horns, and a face covered in fleshy lumps.
Lucien re-lit his cigarette, observing calmly.
"Since you can speak, why not introduce yourself?"
"Eat you."
The creature ignored his civility, charging forward.
"Why bother? I'm very friendly."
Two puffs later, a Gatling appeared, spitting bullets in a hailstorm.
"Whoosh whoosh…da da da…"
The forest's silence shattered.
The creature's lower half was shredded instantly, blood and tissue splattering across the area.
Lucien stepped forward, Gatling unrelenting, until only the creature's head remained.
Smoke curling from his cigarette, he continued firing until the head was pulverized.
"Wouldn't it be better to talk nicely?"
"Do I need to entertain you?"
Discarding the cigarette into the remains, he turned away.
The bicycle reappeared, yet he paused, staring in astonishment.
The head regenerated halfway.
"It's not dead? Amazing."
The creature's single remaining eye widened in fear, instinctively sensing the aura of a being far beyond normal humans.
Could he be a Demon Slayer of the Corps?
"Cellular regeneration," Lucien muttered.
"Impressive… but still inferior to Giant's Power."
Even in human form, Lucien's Hardening and regeneration were formidable, and as a Titan, unmatched.
Combined with Soru and Thunder Breathing.
_______
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