Meanwhile—in Adrian Vale's stream.
Nolan Mercer stopped right in front of Adrian Vale.
He reached back and yanked the long blade he'd thrown into the ground earlier, then held it loosely at his side—yet his crazed eyes never left Adrian Vale's face.
With a grin that crawled up his cheeks, Nolan Mercer spoke in a low, playful tone:
"Hey, kid… let's play a game."
"Tell me… what's 1000 + 7?"
For the first time, Adrian Vale showed the faintest shift.
At the question, his visible eye narrowed slightly—like he was weighing something.
Truthfully, seeing Nolan Mercer had surprised him for a breath.
Then came something far more uncomfortable.
Not fear.
Hunger.
Ever since the Portrayal System awakened back in the real world, he hadn't had "real" meat. Even traveling with Raven Shaw, he'd been forced to endure that constant, maddening scent she carried—strong enough to make his RC cells itch under his skin.
And now—
another human stood right in front of him.
So the same question returned, cold and practical:
Eat… or don't eat?
Nolan Mercer, of course, had no idea what was shifting behind the Ghoul-Eye Oni Mask.
When he saw Adrian Vale's eye narrow, he took it the wrong way—thinking his words had finally "worked."
He burst into laughter.
"HAHAHA! There it is! You're scared now, aren't you?!"
"What—did you hear about what happened to those Shambles Nation idiots?"
"So come on… 1000 + 7 equals what?"
"Hehehe…"
Then Nolan Mercer's grin froze, as if a new thought crawled into his head.
"…Though… doing the same game again might be a little boring."
His eyes glittered.
"Oh—right. I heard this forest has a really nasty centipede."
His voice turned sweet, almost gentle.
"What do you think… should I catch one and put it inside your head?"
"Maybe you'll feel amazing."
He laughed like he'd told the funniest joke in the world.
Then—
SHNK!
Nolan Mercer moved.
No warning. No buildup.
Mid-laughter, he lunged and drove his blade straight toward Adrian Vale's thigh.
Same plan as before: cripple the prey first.
After all—if the toy could run, where was the fun?
The strike was so sudden that nobody reacted in time.
To the viewers, it looked like the blade landed clean.
Dragon Nation's chat collectively drew a breath—
Is he done?!
CLANG!
But the sound that rang out wasn't flesh being pierced.
It was metal hitting metal.
A crisp, hard impact—like steel biting into armor.
Everyone froze.
"…Huh?"
"What was that sound?"
"Why isn't he bleeding?!"
"Don't tell me the blade can't pierce him?!"
"Is it the Black Reaper outfit?!"
"Yeah! Divine Domain: Forbidden Zone gear—normal weapons probably can't break it!"
Nolan Mercer was the most stunned of all.
No blood.
No scream.
No flinch.
Adrian Vale simply looked down at him—coldly, from above—like Nolan Mercer was something unpleasant stuck to his shoe.
And at last… Adrian Vale spoke.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"1000 + 7?"
"You're asking me?"
Nolan Mercer barely heard him. He was still trapped in disbelief.
"This… this is impossible… You're not hurt?!"
But what Adrian Vale did next snapped Nolan Mercer—and the entire world—into a different kind of silence.
Adrian Vale raised his right hand…
and grabbed the blade.
Not the handle.
The edge.
He clamped his bare hand around the steel like it was nothing more than a dull strip of scrap.
Then he said, emotionless:
"Since you've already made your choice…"
"…I'll grant it."
No one understood what he meant.
Choice? What choice?
Adrian Vale lifted the sword higher—slowly, deliberately—until Nolan Mercer's arm was forced up with it.
Then Adrian Vale continued, voice level:
"I'll admit… one thing you said was right."
CRACK—CRACK!
His grip tightened.
The steel crumpled.
Not bent.
Not chipped.
It fractured and collapsed in his palm, breaking apart like brittle glass.
And the most terrifying part—
Adrian Vale's hand didn't bleed.
Not even a scratch.
The stream went mad.
"What—what—WHAT?!"
"He crushed the blade?!"
"Bare-handed?!"
"Is that even human?!"
Then the real horror began.
Beneath the Ghoul-Eye Oni Mask, the visible side of Adrian Vale's face began to web with blood-red cracks—thin fissures spreading outward from his eye like shattered porcelain catching light.
And then—
his eye flooded with black and crimson.
A gaze that didn't belong to any human being.
A gaze that made the air feel thinner.
CRACK.
Adrian Vale lifted his hand and snapped one finger backward with a sharp, dry sound—an ugly angle, a wrong angle—then let it hang there as if it meant nothing at all.
The chat choked.
Some went silent.
Some couldn't look away.
Adrian Vale didn't even blink.
As if pain was a rumor.
That black-red ghoul eye locked onto Nolan Mercer, and something buried deep inside it finally surfaced—
desire.
Not romance.
Not curiosity.
Hunger.
Adrian Vale's voice stayed steady:
"In this world… weakness is a sin."
"Being too weak is a 'crime.'"
"But the one who's wrong…"
"…isn't me."
"It's you."
"Or maybe…"
"…it's this world."
Then he spoke softly, almost politely:
"Listen carefully."
BOOM—!
Behind Adrian Vale's lower back, his Kagune sac ruptured.
A violent bloom of black-red force tore free—like a beast unfolding its wings.
The Adrian Vale from before—quiet, withdrawn, distant—was gone.
In his place stood something brutal and sovereign, smiling faintly as if he'd finally found the answer to a long, aching question.
With his broken finger still held up, Adrian Vale's mouth curved.
"Now… let me ask you something."
"1000 – 7 equals what?"
And in that instant—
not just Dragon Nation—
but the whole world felt it.
A phantom echo of a melody crawled into everyone's ears like a curse:
"Oshiete… oshiete yo… sono shikumi o…"
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