Chapter 2
Instead of answering, manager Aaron stopped walking.
Slowly, he turned to face Osa.
And smiled.
"You know," Aaron said conversationally, "your parents owned quite a bit of property, assets and resources."
His eyes began to glow—a sickly, unnatural purple.
"It would be such a shame for all of that to go to waste."
Osa took a step back in horror.
Sharp teeth erupted from Aaron's gums like bamboo shoots bursting through soil. His jaw distended, widening grotesquely.
In seconds, his mouth was filled with rows of gleaming, razor-sharp fangs.
"Wh-what—" Osa's voice cracked.
Though Aaron's transformation was incomplete but it was just enough to terrify, and enough to kill. His nails extended into black claws, and his purple eyes locked onto Osa like a predator sizing up prey.
"Don't worry," Aaron said, his voice distorted through his monstrous jaws. "It'll be quick."
Osa's instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn't obey. His body was frozen—locked in place by an invisible force.
It wasn't just fear. It was something else. Something he had no idea of.
So this is what hybrids can do to humans, Osa realized with horror. Their presence alone can paralyze weaker beings.
He tried to scream. Nothing came out.
Aaron lunged.
His claws sliced through the air, aimed directly at Osa's throat.
Time seemed to slow. Osa could see every detail—the glint of Aaron's claws, the feral hunger in his eyes, and the inevitability of his own death.
"I'm going to die?".
"I'm going to die just like my parents?"
"So i'll never know the truth?"
The claws were centimeters from his face when—
—everything stopped.
Not slowed. Stopped.
Aaron hung suspended in mid-air, frozen mid-lunge. His eyes were still moving, blinking in confusion and growing terror, but his body was completely immobilized. His claws hovered just a breath away from Osa's skin.
Osa's heart hammered in his chest.
"What... what's happening?"
Aaron's eyes darted frantically, the only part of him that could still move. Panic flooded his gaze. He was aware, consciou but completely trapped.
"Who did I offend?"
Aaron's mind raced.
"What powerful hybrid is doing this?"
He had E-grade talent and over twenty years of experience. No mid-level hybrid could restrain him like this. Even a high-level hybrid would need to reveal themselves to exert this kind of control.
But there was no one here. Just him and the boy.
Then Aaron's eyes caught something.
A red glow.
It was coming from the ring on Osa's thumb
The red glow became even more brighter as time passes.
Aaron's eyes widened in terror as he stared at the ring on Osa's thumb. The silver band was now radiating crimson light—deep and completely blood-red, reacting like an ancient hungry monster.
Then it strike.
From the ring's surface, thin tendrils began to emerge. Not metal or solid but something between liquid and shadow—blood-red appendages that writhed and twisted like living veins.
One tendril. Two. Five. A dozen.
They keep sprouting from the ring like the legs of some nightmarish spider, each one seeking and searching relentlessly until they found their target.
The tendrils shot forward with impossible speed, latching onto Manager Aaron's suspended body. They wrapped around his arms, his legs, his torso, burrowing into his skin like parasitic roots.
Aaron's eyes bulged. His mouth was frozen open in a silent scream he couldn't voice.
The tendrils pulsed strangely.
Osa watched in horrified fascination as something began flowing through them, something drawn from Aaron's body.
At first, it looked like blood, but it seems more than that. The normal blood with strange strands of purple running through It like thread.
Aaron's skin began to gray.
His muscles withered.
His eyes, once blazing purple with hybrid energy and confidence now dulled and lifeless as it turns ash like a wooden corpse.
The tendrils drank and drank and drank.
While it took long to explain, in reality It took less than thirty seconds.
When the tendrils finally retracted—slithering back into the ring like snakes returning to their nest—Manager Aaron's body dropped to the ground.
What hit the pavement wasn't a hybrid anymore.
It was a husk. A desiccated corpse, skin pulled tight over bones, mouth frozen in eternal terror. The body looked like it had been dead for weeks, not seconds.
Time resumed.
The world lurched back into motion. The wind picked up. The rusted swings creaked.
And Osa collapsed to his knees, gasping for air.
"What... what just..." His hands were shaking. His whole body was shaking.
He stared at the ring on his thumb.
The red glow was fading now, dimming back to ordinary silver as if nothing had happened.
As if it hadn't just killed a hybrid in the most terrifying way Osa had ever seen.
Slowly, carefully, Osa pulled the ring off his finger.
He turned it over in his trembling hands, examining it from every angle. Apart from a faint warmth that was already dissipating, it looked completely normal. Plain silver and Unremarkable except for one distinct change at the top of the ring, the head of a dragon crimson in color now appeared there.
"What is this thing?"
He'd heard stories about beast artifacts—rare weapons and tools forged from the remains of ancient magical beasts.
They were supposed to be priceless, powerful and capable of enhancing a wielder's abilities.
But Osa didn't feel any stronger nor did he feel any surge of power.
The ring hadn't enhanced him. It had acted on its own. Defended him.
Did my parents give me this? he wondered, with his mind still racing. Did they know I'd need protection?
But that didn't make sense either. If this was a genuine beast artifact—something this powerful—the Blue Fur Organization would never have returned it after his parents' deaths. They would have claimed it for themselves.
Unless... unless they didn't know what it was.
Unless his parents had hidden its true nature.
Osa looked down at the corpse of Manager Aaron, and a cold realization settled over him: This thing saved my life. But it also just killed someone.
His stomach churned. He wanted to be sick. But there was no time for that.
He had to move. Had to get away from here before someone found the body. Before anyone start asking questions he couldn't answer.
Osa slipped the ring back onto his thumb—it was better to keep it close, safe and hidden. He then forced himself to stand.
His legs were weak, unsteady, but he pushed forward and started running.
Osa ran blindly through the abandoned playground, following the path he and Aaron had taken. His lungs burned. His legs screamed in protest. He tripped over uneven pavement, fell hard, scraped his palms raw—but he got back up and kept running.
Don't stop. Don't look back. Just run.
He didn't know where he was going. Didn't even know what he'd do when he got there.
All he knew was that he had to get away from that place, away from the body, away from the horror of what he'd just witnessed.
The streets blurred past him. His vision swam with tears—whether from fear, grief, or exhaustion, he couldn't tell.
He ran past his estate without stopping, his home became another shadow in the growing darkness.
He ran until he reached the main road—the wide thoroughfare that separated Blue Fur City's southern district from the northern district.
And that's where his legs finally gave out.
Osa stumbled to a halt, gasping for breath, his whole body trembling with adrenaline and shock.
Then he up ahead he saw silhouettes.
Dozens of figures in dark blue uniforms—city guards, patrolling the border. Their presence was commanding and disciplined.
A few had already noticed him, their heads turning in his direction.
One of them started walking toward him.
Osa's first instinct was to run again. But he couldn't. His body had nothing left.
And besides... where would he go?
The guard approached—a young man who looked to be in his early twenties. His posture was alert, his eyes sharp and assessing. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of authority.
"What are you doing outside at this hour, kid?"
Osa opened his mouth to answer.
Nothing came out.
His throat closed up. The words tangled in his chest—I was attacked, a hybrid tried to kill me, a ring saved me, there's a body in the playground—but he couldn't say any of it. He couldn't even make sense of it himself.
"I... I was... I-I-I..." Osa stammered, his voice breaking.
The guard—his nameplate read John—studied him carefully. Took in the tears streaking his face, the scraped palms, and the wild terror in his eyes.
John's expression softened slightly.
"Come with me," he said, his tone less harsh now. "You look like you've been through hell."