The night air was no longer just cold; it was heavy. It pressed against the skin like a wet blanket, smelling of burnt rubber, sewage, and the metallic tang of dried blood that seemed to coat the entire city of Neo-Veridia.
Kael walked down the center of 42nd Avenue. He didn't skulk in the shadows anymore. He couldn't.
On his right shoulder rested The Black Iron Tyrant. The weapon was absurd. It was a slab of dark, abyssal metal, 1.8 meters long and weighing 180 kilograms. To a normal human, it was an immovable piece of architectural debris. To Kael, whose Strength stat had stabilized at a monstrous 8.5 after feasting on the Alpha Kong, it was a burden, yes, but a manageable one.
Every step Kael took was deliberate. The asphalt cracked slightly under the combined weight of his densified body and the weapon.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Beside him, Elena moved like a ghost. Her movements were silent, her breathing regulated. She glanced at the massive slab of iron on Kael's shoulder every few seconds, as if expecting it to crush him.
"You're making too much noise," Elena whispered, her eyes scanning the dark windows of the apartment complexes lining the street. "That thing scrapes against the air itself."
" Stealth is no longer my build," Kael replied, his voice a low rumble. "I'm the bait. You're the trap. Remember?"
"I remember," she muttered, adjusting the strap of her tactical backpack. "I just hope we don't attract another Alpha. My mana is barely at 20%."
"We won't," Kael said. He felt a strange vibration from the sword against his neck. The weapon seemed to be... sleeping. Waiting. "The small fry are scared. Can't you feel it?"
He was right. The streets, usually teeming with low-level Vectors at this hour, were strangely empty. The lesser monsters could smell the scent of the Ironhide Kong on Kael. He reeked of an Apex Predator. The mindless zombies were avoiding him instinctively.
But humans... humans were different. Humans were arrogant. Humans couldn't smell pheromones; they only saw a ragged man with a piece of scrap metal and a pretty girl.
They reached an intersection about eight blocks from the mall. The streetlights here were dead, shot out. The only illumination came from a burning barrel in the middle of the road.
A barricade blocked the way. It was constructed of overturned sedans, barbed wire, and—sickeningly—human bodies tied to the grill of a bus. The bodies were naked, mutilated, displaying signs of torture that had nothing to do with feeding and everything to do with cruelty.
"Stop," Elena hissed, grabbing Kael's arm. Her grip was tight. "Look at the bodies. Those aren't Vector bites. Those are knife wounds. Burn marks."
Kael stopped. His violet eyes narrowed, the low-light vision clarifying the scene.
"Slavers," Kael diagnosed. "Or sadists. Probably both."
From the shadows behind the burning barrel, figures emerged. Six men. They didn't look like the disciplined guards of King Magnus. These men were filthy, wearing mismatched biker leather and police riot gear painted with crude white skulls. They held pipes, machetes, and two of them held handguns—glocks, by the look of them.
A man stepped forward. He was huge, almost as tall as Kael, with a shaved head and a necklace made of... ears.
"Well, well," the man grinned, revealing yellow, rotted teeth. "What do we have here? A garbage collector and his little pet?"
Elena's hand went to her sword hilt. Kael didn't move. He kept the Greatsword resting casually on his shoulder.
"We're just passing through," Kael said. His voice was calm, devoid of fear. It was the calmness of a butcher looking at a pig.
"Passing through?" The leader laughed. The other men joined in, a chorus of hyenas. "Nobody passes through 'The Toll' without paying. And the price..." He looked at Elena, licking his lips in a gesture so cliché and vile it made Kael's stomach turn. "...the price is high tonight. Leave the girl and the scrap metal. You can crawl away. Maybe we won't shoot you in the back."
Kael looked at the barricade again. He saw movement inside the bus. Faces pressed against the glass. Women. Children. Their eyes were hollow, broken. They weren't just killing; they were keeping livestock.
The System pinged in Kael's vision.
[Quest Generated: The Cleanse.]
[Objective: Eliminate the "Skull Gang" (0/6).]
[Bonus Objective: Rescue the captives.]
[Reward: Experience (Variable), Karma Adjustment.]
"Karma..." Kael whispered. "The System judges too?"
"Hey! Are you deaf, retard?" The leader pointed his pistol at Kael's chest. "Drop the metal slab. Hands on your head. Or I put a bullet in your gut and we have fun with the girl while you bleed out."
One of the lackeys, a skinny man with a rusted crowbar, snickered. "Look at him, boss. He thinks he's an anime character with that big sword. Bet it's made of plastic."
Elena tensed, ready to use [Flash Step]. But Kael spoke first.
"Elena," Kael said softly. "Don't interfere."
"What? Kael, they have guns."
"I said... don't interfere."
Kael took a step forward. The asphalt cracked under his boot.
"You want my weapon?" Kael asked, tilting his head. The violet glow in his eyes flared up, piercing the darkness. "It's heavy. Are you sure you can carry it?"
The leader frowned. The primal part of his brain, the part that had kept his ancestors alive in the jungle, screamed that something was wrong. This hobo wasn't shaking. He wasn't begging. He was... approaching.
"I said stop!" The leader fired.
BANG.
The gunshot was loud in the quiet street. The muzzle flash illuminated the horror on the leader's face.
He hadn't missed. He hit Kael dead center in the chest.
Kael stopped. He looked down at his chest. There was a hole in his tattered shirt. Beneath it, on his grey, hardened skin, there was a small deformation. The bullet had pierced the [Harden Epidermis], yes, but it had flattened against the [Reinforced Bone Density] of his sternum.
A trickle of blood leaked out. It was a flesh wound. To Kael, it felt like a bee sting.
He looked up at the shooter. Kael smiled. It was a smile full of blood and promise.
"My turn."
Kael dropped his shoulder. The Black Iron Tyrant slid off, falling into his right hand.
He didn't lift it. He dragged it.
SCREEEEEEEEECH.
The sound of the black metal tearing through the asphalt was agonizing. Sparks flew like fireworks. Kael broke into a run.
"Shoot him! Shoot the freak!" the leader screamed, backing away and firing blindly.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
One bullet hit Kael's shoulder. Another grazed his cheek. Kael didn't even blink. The pain was distant, filtered through his adrenaline and his sheer rage.
He reached the first man—the skinny one with the crowbar who had mocked him.
Kael didn't use a technique. He didn't use a skill. He just swung the sword upward in a diagonal arc.
The physics of a 180kg blade moving at 80km/h are unforgiving.
There was no cutting sound. There was a sound like a watermelon exploding inside a sleeping bag.
The sword hit the man's torso. It didn't slice him; it obliterated him. The man's upper body simply ceased to exist in a unified form, turning into a mist of red vapor and bone shards. The bottom half of his body stood for a second, confused, before collapsing.
The sword continued its arc, smashing into the side of a rusted sedan, cutting through the B-pillar and the roof as if they were made of tin foil.
Silence fell. Absolute, terrified silence.
The leader's gun clicked empty. He stared at the red mist that used to be his lieutenant.
"Monster..." he whispered.
Kael wrenched the sword free from the car wreckage with a groan of twisting metal. He turned to the remaining five men.
"You collect ears," Kael said, stepping over the gory remains. "I collect everything."
Chaos erupted. The bandits broke. They weren't warriors; they were bullies. And bullies don't fight monsters.
"Run! Run!"
Two men tried to scramble over the barricade. Kael spun the massive sword, using the momentum to propel himself forward.
"No escape."
He reached the two climbers. He swung the sword horizontally, flat side out. He swatted them like flies against the side of the bus.
CRUNCH.
The sound of every bone in their bodies breaking simultaneously was sickening. They fell, lifeless sacks of broken geometry.
The other gunman tried to aim at Elena, thinking she was the weak link.
"Bad choice," Elena whispered.
Before he could pull the trigger, a line of blood appeared on his throat. Elena was already behind him, sheathing her rapier. He gurgled and fell.
That left the Leader and one other thug. They were backed against the burning barrel, trembling.
"Wait! Wait!" The leader threw his gun away. He fell to his knees, clasping his hands. "We have supplies! We have food! We have women! Take them! Take the bus! Just let me go!"
Kael stopped in front of him. He rested the tip of the Black Iron Tyrant on the ground. The sword was dripping with blood, and the red runes along its spine were pulsing faster, brighter.
[Weapon Effect Activated: Blood Thirst.]
[The Black Iron Tyrant has tasted blood. Weight increased by 10%. Damage increased by 10%.]
"You offer me women?" Kael asked, his voice low.
"Yes! Young ones! Clean!" The leader nodded frantically, thinking he had found a bargaining chip.
Kael looked at the bus. He saw the faces of the captives. He saw the fear. He saw the bruises.
He looked back at the leader.
"You misunderstand," Kael said. "I'm not angry because you blocked the road. I'm angry because you think human beings are currency."
Kael raised the sword high above his head. He didn't use the edge. He used the flat face of the blade, like a giant flyswatter.
"Please—"
SPLAT.
Kael brought the weapon down with all his strength.
The result was not something that could be described in polite company. It was total erasure. The ground shook, and a crater formed where the leader had been kneeling.
The last thug, witnessing this god-like violence, fainted dead away.
Kael stood there, breathing heavily. The red haze of combat lifted, replaced by the System's cold text.
[Quest Complete: The Cleanse.]
[Experience Acquired.]
[Biomass Available for Harvest.]
Kael looked at the mess. It was... inefficient. The sword was too destructive. There wasn't much left to harvest from the first guy or the leader.
"You're a brute," Elena said. She was standing beside him, looking at the crater with a mixture of disgust and relief. "You didn't have to turn him into paste."
"He annoyed me," Kael grunted, wiping a splatter of blood from his eye.
He walked over to the bodies that were still intact—the two he had swatted against the bus and the one Elena had stabbed.
"Are you going to...?" Elena gestured vaguely.
"Yes," Kael said. "I took a bullet. I need to repair the armor."
He knelt. He tried to ignore the fact that these were people. He focused on their crimes. Slavers. Murderers. Ear collectors. They had forfeited their humanity long before he ate them.
System. Harvest.
The blood flowed. Kael felt his skin knitting together over the bullet wound on his chest. The lead bullet was pushed out of his body by regenerating tissue, clinking onto the asphalt.
[Biomass Acquired: 25 units.]
[Current Biomass: 25.]
When he was done, he stood up. He felt recharged.
He walked to the bus door. It was locked from the outside with a chain. Kael grabbed the chain with his bare hand and pulled. The links snapped.
He pushed the doors open.
Inside, the smell was awful—sweat, urine, fear. About fifteen people were huddled in the back seats. They screamed when they saw him.
Kael stood in the doorway, blocking the exit. He knew what he looked like. A giant covered in gore, dragging a sword that shouldn't exist.
"The men outside are dead," Kael said. His voice echoed in the metal tube. "The road is open."
Nobody moved. They were too broken to believe him.
Elena stepped past Kael. She looked cleaner, less monstrous.
"He's telling the truth," Elena said softly. "You're free. There's a police station three miles north that was reported safe yesterday. Go."
One by one, they stood up. They shuffled past Kael, flinching as they got close to him. One woman, clutching a torn dress, looked up at Kael. She didn't say thank you. She looked at him with pure, unadulterated horror.
"Demon," she whispered.
Kael didn't blink. He just stared straight ahead.
When the bus was empty, Kael turned to Elena.
"Let's go. The safehouse isn't far."
"Does it bother you?" Elena asked as they started walking again, leaving the carnage behind.
"What?"
"That they fear you. You saved them."
Kael hoisted the Black Iron Tyrant back onto his shoulder. The weight was comforting. It was honest.
"Sheep should fear the wolf," Kael said, staring into the dark horizon of the city. "Even if the wolf kills the coyotes. Fear keeps them alive. And it keeps them away from me."
Elena looked at him for a long moment. Then, she shook her head.
"You're trying too hard to be edgy, Kael. But... thanks. For taking the bullet."
"It scratched the paint. Nothing more."
They continued into the night. Kael checked his status.
[Evolution Progress: 12%]
[Next Threshold: Bone Marrow Mutation.]