"Go and keep watch for a moment," I said to Ron, nodding toward the perimeter.
Ron gave a short, sharp nod, placing his helmet back on and melting back into the shadows of the construction site, his movements already becoming more confident, more fluid. He was learning.
I stood over the two bodies, my white hair fluttering in the night breeze. I didn't waste any more time. I unzipped the black bodysuit I was wearing from the top, exposing my torso. The cold night air kissed my bare skin, making my nipples harden.
I didn't stop at my torso. I continued, unzipping the suit all the way down, until my cute, pink pussy and plump ass were completely exposed to the cold night. My pale skin glowed under the dim moonlight.
A wicked grin played on my lips as I slowly spread my legs, my right hand trailing down my stomach, my fingers finding my clit.
"Devour!"
The moment I spoke the word, dark, shadowy tendrils burst out from my pussy and ass, writhing like a mass of black snakes. They shot out, wrapping around the two corpses, pulling them toward me.
The tendrils dug into the flesh, burrowing deep, and with swift, brutal efficiency, they were pulled into my body. The process was silent, save for the faint, wet, sexy sounds of my pussy and ass expanding to accommodate the two bodies. My stomach slightly bulged as the two bodies were pulled inside me, but it returned to its normal flatness within seconds.
I could feel the dark energy of my Devour skill working its magic, breaking down the bodies, absorbing their essence. The cybernetic parts of the male assassin were a bit indigestible, like tough gristle, but the flesh, the blood, the souls... they were delicious. The energy flowed through me, strengthening me, replenishing my reserves.
My pussy twitched and quivered as I absorbed the life force of the two assassins, a soft moan escaping my lips. It wasn't a pleasure of the flesh, but a deeper, more primal satisfaction. The satisfaction of a predator after a successful hunt.
Ding!
[+54 HP]
[+34 STM]
"Tsk... so weak," I muttered in disappointment. "Two D-rank assassins and all I get is this? Pathetic."
From the beginning, I didn't expect much from them. My target was their memories and what little information they had about the Black Hand.
But at least give me some attribute points, at least!
"Sigh..." I sighed, zipping up my bodysuit. The feeling of fullness was temporary, a fleeting satisfaction. I was already hungry for more.
I closed my eyes, going through their short, pathetic memories. Most of it was useless. Their missions, their targets, their... sexual fantasies. Disgusting.
But then I found it. A small but important piece of information.
The location of a higher-ranking member of the Black Hand. A B-rank enforcer, known only as 'The Surgeon'.
He was the one who had been 'enhancing' the low-ranking members with cheap cybernetics, and also the one who was in charge of this warehouse.
'The Surgeon,' I thought, a cruel smile playing on my lips. 'I like the sound of that. A B-rank. Now that's a more interesting prey.'
Ron returned from his watch, his steps silent and sure. He had stripped the two assassins of their storage rings and weapons and was now holding a small, black pouch.
"Anything, Sister?" he asked, his voice still flat, devoid of emotion.
"Just this," I said, sharing what I found in their memories with him. "A new target."
Ron's masked face turned towards the warehouse. I could feel the cold, calculating hunger emanating from him. He was no longer a boy. He was a weapon. And he was eager to be used.
"Let's go," he said.
I nodded, and we made our way to the basement entrance of the unfinished building. The heavy metal door was locked, but that was not a problem for me.
I placed my hand on the lock, channeling a small amount of my mana and using the corresponding unlock rune I acquired from the memory of the cyborgs.
Click.
The door swung open, revealing a dark, narrow staircase. The air that wafted up from the basement was thick with the smell of stale blood and chemicals.
Before I jumped inside, I pulled out a full metal face mask from my inventory that I bought a few days ago and wore it. Then, controlling my form, I switched to the succubus one and made my hair turn black without changing the skin color.
In the memories, inside the warehouse, there were plenty of cameras. I needed to stay unrecognizable.
Now I looked like a female assassin similar to Ron.
We descended into the darkness, our footsteps echoing in the silence.
Each step echoed softly against the concrete walls, swallowed by the darkness before the sound could travel far. The air grew colder with every floor we descended.
I walked in front while Ron followed a few steps behind. Neither of us spoke.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was the silence of predators approaching a den.
My enhanced senses picked up dozens of faint sounds beneath us.
Footsteps.
Machinery.
Voices.
Heartbeats.
Lots of heartbeats.
I smiled behind my metal mask.
The warehouse was active.
Good.
That meant there would be witnesses when everything went wrong. Fear was a tool. The more people who saw the coming slaughter, the faster the Black Hand's morale would crumble.
Eventually, the staircase ended at a reinforced security door. Unlike the entrance above, this one had a biometric scanner mounted beside it.
A red light blinked lazily.
I reached into one of the storage rings we had taken and pulled out a severed cybernetic finger.
"You kept that?" Ron stared.
"I keep useful things." I pressed the dead fingertip to the scanner.
The scanner glowed green, and the door hissed open.
Beyond was a massive, brightly lit space. The warehouse was a hive of activity. Dozens of men and women in Black Hand uniforms moved about, some loading crates onto trucks, some examining monster cores on workbenches, and others simply standing guard.
The sight of them, so alive and unaware, sent a thrill through me.
They were cattle. And I was the wolf in the pen.
I felt Ron tense behind me. The drug was still in his system, keeping him calm and focused, but the sheer scale of what we were about to do was enough to test anyone's resolve.
I placed a hand on his armored shoulder.
"Remember your training," I whispered, my voice a low, dangerous hum. "No hesitation. No mercy. They are not people. They are obstacles. And obstacles are meant to be broken."
He nodded, his gloved hand tightening around the hilt of his short sword.
'Umbra, keep him safe,' I sent a mental command to the panther in his shadow.
A low, guttural purr echoed back in my mind.
Then I slipped into the shadows, my form dissolving into the darkness.
No alarms blared. No one shouted. The Black Hand members were arrogant and lax. They were so deep within their own territory, surrounded by their own numbers, that the idea of an enemy slipping past their outer defenses was unthinkable.
That arrogance would be their death.
"Let the slaughter begin," I purred, my black katana appearing in my hand in a flash of dark energy.
Without hesitation, I dashed toward the nearest group of men who were examining a massive Wyvern Core on a steel table.
Before any of them could register my presence, I was already upon them.
My blade became a blur of black steel, a whisper in the artificial light. The first man's head was severed from his shoulders before he could even turn. The second's throat was slit ear to ear as he reached for a sidearm. The third, a woman with cybernetic legs, tried to leap back, but my blade was faster, impaling her through the chest, pinning her to the concrete wall behind her.
Three dead. In less than two seconds, no one else in the massive warehouse noticed. The clanking of machinery, the shouting of foremen, the distant rumble of the city above—it all masked the silent, efficient slaughter.
I moved through the warehouse like a phantom, a ghost of death. My katana sang its deadly song, a symphony of violence that only I could hear.
I didn't just kill. I dismantled.
I cut tendons, shattered cybernetics, sliced through spinal cords. I left a trail of crippled, bleeding bodies in my wake. Cries of pain and shock finally began to ripple through the warehouse, but by then, it was too late. Panic was setting in.
And panic was a wonderful, beautiful thing. It made people stupid. It made them run in the wrong direction, making them easier targets.
I saw one thug fumbling for the alarm on the wall. I didn't even break stride. I threw a dagger, and it embedded itself in the back of his hand, pinning it to the wall. He screamed, and I was on him a second later, my blade silencing him forever.
"INTRUDER!" a deep, amplified voice boomed from the upper catwalk that ringed the warehouse. "ALL HANDS! INTRUDERS! ARM YOURSELVES!"
The chaos was spreading like wildfire. Men and women were running, shouting, and shooting wildly into the air. But they didn't know where the attack was coming from. They were rats in a maze, and I was the snake.
'Hisss!'
A hissing sound suddenly echoed in my head, followed by a movement inside my lower stomach.
"Want to come and hunt?" I asked the little snake, whom I gave birth to thanks to the 'Queen of Serpents' skill.
'Hisss!' The snake's excitement was clear.
"Alright, you little glutton, let's go."