TBR CH108

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—Registered under the homeowner nickname “Stars.”

In the cramped elevator, menacing tendrils crawled slowly across the floor and walls, their gleaming tips poised like spears ready to pierce any enemy. Human and monster faced each other at close range.

John raised his gun, a pained, hoarse sound escaping his throat.

Grief-fueled rage consumed him, flames licking from his fingertips. His trembling hands fired shot after shot, venting fury, only for the bullets to be deflected by tendrils, clattering to the floor with crisp echoes.

A terrible attack.

Black Hawk was, after all, a top-tier second-generation special forces operative, the only student Kingfisher had mentored before his downfall. The institute sent him to rectify the situation, and he had the skill to match. At full strength, he could hold Asta off for a significant time.

—If he didn’t keep making mistakes like this.

The sound of bullets hitting the floor jolted John’s reason back. His steel-gray eyes, molten with pain and disbelief, reflected the monster’s form. Just hours ago, this mild-mannered man had shown a completely different side, even teaching him how to salvage what had happened.

“Why did you kill him?” John asked, knowing it was a question without an answer. “My mentor trusted you completely, even against the fate of humanity. He stubbornly believed in you. Is that what you meant hours ago when you said he might be right? Why say those things to me?”

Back then, the hope of fixing everything had briefly flickered in his heart.

Hours later, cruel reality reduced it to ashes.

The monster’s black eyes, like reefs submerged in seawater, showed no reflection of the broken human before it, only an occasional faint glimmer.

“Even if I hadn’t, you would’ve killed him. That was his choice.”

“…No.”

John suppressed the urge to step back, instinctively refuting, but words failed him.

Asta spoke expressionlessly, not forgetting how battered Isidor was when it dragged him in with its tendrils.

The bullets and blood on his body weren’t caused by any monster; the blood had even stained a patch of beach red. The weapon in John’s hand back then was identical to the one now aimed at Asta.

Though Isidor didn’t care, Asta thought John should pay a price.

“Your mentor… Isidor,” the monster leaned closer, taking a step forward. Its terrifying presence peaked, more tendrils spreading from the shadows.

“Just a foolish, gullible human, making all the wrong decisions, with laughably poor judgment in who to trust—a complete failure from start to finish.”

It silently apologized to Isidor in its mind.

“You have no right to say that,” Black Hawk said, clenching his fist, his trembling fingers aiming at Asta’s head again.

“I don’t understand humans, so I don’t get why you’re so angry,” Asta said, a smirk curling its lips. “I just voiced your thoughts. Can’t handle it? Hey, John, don’t rush to argue. He wasn’t trusted by me or you. His decisions mean nothing to a monster like me, but they’re the same to you, aren’t they? This outcome just proves you were right. Isn’t that good?”

A human who trusted a monster, standing against everyone.

Monsters were brutal, unpredictable, and a threat to humanity’s survival. Even if they seemed harmless, their true ferocity would eventually show. That was the institute’s ideology, ingrained in John.

He opened his mouth, but after a brief calm, his rebuttal stuck in his throat.

He desperately wanted to argue, his heart pounding as if it might burst through his chest, but his words were like blades dipped in venom, cutting him as they left.

This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this. Seven years ago, at the trial, his voice had been similarly silenced.

Say it, even if he’s dead.

For your own sake, try to believe.

“He wasn’t like that.”

John was shocked to hear the monster’s words from the dessert shop echoing in his mind, but he had no time to process it. Words poured out like a flood.

“My mentor was strong. Even gravely injured, he could fight back with astonishing resilience. His judgment was never wrong. He could be ruthless to achieve his goals, controlling himself under crushing instincts, forcibly stripping away all power. He never made a mistake—”

The more he spoke, the smoother it flowed. Asta found it amusing. The man before it was no longer the shackled special forces captain, the institute’s second-generation human weapon, but a boy passionately defending his idol, angrily refuting the slander thrown at him.

“Even this time?”

“Even this time, I have to believe him. The choice he made with his death must have meaning.”

“Enough,” Asta said. “I know.”

As if his words had restored his strength, Black Hawk’s hands steadied. His anger and frustration subsided, replaced by a wave of sorrow, driving him to relentlessly counter the monster’s words.

It was like getting a second chance to speak at that trial, a chance to change things. Though this was hardly the right moment, and the monster couldn’t be persuaded—

Wait, did it just say “I know”?

The black-eyed monster smiled at him again. Behind it, tendrils writhed silently. John tensed, alert, but things didn’t worsen. The grotesque tendrils were guided back into the shadows by the monster’s downward gesture.

The elevator no longer felt like a death trap.

Asta seemed to revert to the ordinary researcher Mr. Asta, smiling politely. On its hand, the last tendril’s soft, rounded tip vanished into its sleeve.

“What—” John, confused and powerless, couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

He hesitated. This seemed like a good moment to shoot. But the monster’s eerie demeanor made him waver. Since Kingfisher taught him hunting techniques a decade ago, he’d known not to be fooled by strange appearances.

“I know what kind of human Isidor is,” Asta said, its tone casual, its abyss-like eyes faintly reflecting light. Black Hawk warned himself a thousand times not to be swayed. “Of course I know how great he is, how resolute in his choices, how he makes the best plans under the toughest conditions. And he’s right, as you said. I’m incredibly important to him, and he means everything to me. Please understand, I want to see him hurt less than anyone.”

Isidor was right.

His trust wasn’t misplaced. The outcome he died for had meaning, and that meaning stood before them now. Isidor’s final choice was to protect Alpha. To believe in this human meant…

—He should trust the monster Isidor chose, just as he trusted Isidor.

John’s pupils contracted slightly.

“Do you choose to believe his decision, even if it’s the last time?”

The monster stepped closer, so near that John could sense it had dropped all defenses. It gazed at him without a trace of doubt, like a black lighthouse standing firm in a vast sea, guiding the way, unshakable.

Summoning its tendrils again would take time.

This was the perfect moment to strike.

Yet, under the strange atmosphere and Asta’s flickering black eyes, John, as if entranced, slowly lowered his gun.

“Good, John,” Asta’s voice carried an indescribable satisfaction and gentleness. It extended a hand toward the human. This was a cruel, terrifying being, capable of overpowering all humans and monsters. A chill raced up Black Hawk’s spine, and for a split second, he envisioned his heart pierced by a tendril.

The monster opened its hand, revealing a green candy wrapper.

“You seem tense. Want a mint?”

The second before Asta stepped out of the elevator, the可怜 special forces captain still looked at it like it was a monster.

—Which, of course, it was.

The moment the elevator doors opened, they were exposed to countless gazes. Numerous weapons aimed at the monster in the center. John pursed his lips, forcing his expression to remain stern, though the action brought back the cool, sweet taste of the mint in his mouth.

He held his weapon, unharmed, the barrel cautiously trained on the monster’s head.

The crowd collectively exhaled. The situation seemed under control, as Black Hawk had claimed. The SSS-class monster showed no strong malice or aggression, even willingly returning to its containment room after negotiations.

Aside from a few surveillance staff needing psychological counseling, there were no other casualties.

John quickly gestured, signaling that progress was smooth and ordering a temporary withdrawal. The special forces team executed his commands with precision, retreating orderly, clearing the path. The monster stepped forward, a pair of handcuffs loosely wrapped around its wrists.

Everyone knew the cuffs couldn’t restrain it, but Black Hawk, with a complicated expression, still placed them on.

“…At least it shows intent.”

When Asta’s tendril brushed the cuffs, it accidentally snapped them. A closer look would reveal the cuffs were held together only by a thin tendril.

No one could notice such detail. The crowd warily glanced at the monster, feeling its deep eyes pull them toward an abyss of consciousness, forcing them to look away hastily.

John initially worried Asta wouldn’t know the way, but soon realized it knew the institute’s layout better than he did.

“How…” He sighed, defeated. “You must’ve snuck out countless times. God, we never noticed once.”

Asta gave him a lenient smile.

Escorted by the special forces captain, they soon reached the familiar titanium-white door. John paused. The memories here weren’t pleasant, and the impossibly sturdy door could only be breached by the monster’s strength.

Of course, after their “negotiation,” it wouldn’t stop the institute from trying to replace the door.

That would take at least half a month.

There was no need to linger. Asta prepared to return to its room, while John stood with his head bowed, as if fearing that opening the door would reveal Isidor’s body.

He still felt pain, knowing he’d caused this outcome.

Asta looked at Black Hawk, who seemed like a drenched bird, feathers curled tightly. Even the monster felt a twinge of pity. It summoned a tendril, latching onto the metal door, slowly pulling it open enough to pass through.

Through the gap, the young captain cautiously surveyed the scene inside.

The sea was calm, dotted with glass shards; the beach was a mess, scattered with footprints and explosion marks. He blinked cautiously, the scene still clear.

No… no human body in sight, for now.

As Asta stepped inside, its tendrils considerately widened the gap. The monster stood by the door, knowing Isidor was likely reading Romeo and Juliet in his seaside cabin, unlikely to appear suddenly.

John fully believed the news of the human’s death. Isidor had been gravely injured; without treatment, his heart would’ve stopped quickly.

That wasn’t Asta’s fault.

Black Hawk’s face bore unshakable sorrow, as if facing a tombstone. The monster, stepping grandly into Isidor’s “grave,” was the last to see him. For some reason, the thought was oddly comedic.

Asta considered that leaving him like this wasn’t ideal but didn’t want him to know the truth too soon.

After all, Isidor had said, “Don’t trust humans.”

Even if John, seeing his mentor’s death, had a change of heart and switched sides, he could only be told a small part of the truth under Isidor’s approval, and he’d sworn to keep it secret.

“By the way,” the monster stepped fully into the room, its tendrils releasing the door, which was about to slam shut.

John’s head snapped up at the sound, his eyes colliding with Asta’s bottomless gaze.

Asta tilted its head. “I haven’t thanked you yet. Recommending Romeo and Juliet was quite useful.”

Black Hawk stood frozen, a bewildered expression on his face, struggling to understand why the monster left such a cryptic remark.

But the metal door slammed shut, leaving no one to question.

When tendrils slipped through the window, wrapping around Isidor’s wrist as he turned a page, his emerald-green eyes lit up with a bright smile. He looked at the boundless sea, murmuring to himself despite not yet seeing anyone:

“Welcome home.”

Closing the book with its bookmark, Isidor patted the black book that had appeared beside him at some point, ready to greet his returning teammate. But the tendrils, sensing their master’s return, were clearly more excited, bobbing in the dark seawater and pouncing on Isidor the moment he reached the shore.

Isidor nearly fell but was steadied by tendrils that gleefully climbed onto land, wrapping around him further to secure his balance.

These tendrils were soft, seemingly harmless, but impossible to escape.

Isidor even felt his collar shift in the festive atmosphere. Probably an illusion—how could clothes move? With that thought, he gently nudged the tendrils, like calming a pet.

But pets aren’t always obedient.

The tendrils wrapped his wrists, then his ankles, joyfully bundling him up and carrying him over the frothy white waves, guided by their master’s eager anticipation, drastically speeding up their reunion.

As the metal door closed, Asta saw Isidor appear behind it.

…Along with a chaotic swarm of tendrils dancing triumphantly in the seawater.

Isidor’s clothes had been messed up by something—just a little rumpled—but none of that mattered. This time was completely different from all the times before. He looked so obedient, sitting quietly in the room waiting for it to return. His smile seemed to be the very embodiment of “home.” In that moment when he appeared in Asta’s line of sight, Asta suddenly felt as if its heart had been carefully tucked away into a small, safe box.

It turned around, fully reverting to its true form, with all its tentacles retracted.

“Though I can’t really say ‘long time no see,’”

the human’s voice was gentle, “I really did miss you, Asta. If I asked for a hug, I suppose I’d get your permission, wouldn’t I?”

Of course.

Those dark eyes earnestly reflected a field of green. Almost at the exact same moment, they both ran toward each other—even if it was only a few short steps. Isidor spread his arms slightly and tilted his head a little, and the next second, he was firmly embraced by the monster.

His breath was light and teasing as it brushed against Asta’s neck. He nuzzled forward, and his soft hair felt fluffy to the touch.

For any monster, holding a human like this was an extraordinary experience.

First of all, monsters generally had no body heat. They weren’t cold, but unless they made an effort to fake warmth, they felt as inorganic as lifeless matter. After all, monsters always hid their hearts in places no human could reach, which made it impossible for them to possess warmth that came from within.

Second, humans were fragile. A monster had a thousand ways to kill an unguarded human. Their instincts were wired with hostility toward weaker beings. A careful, delicate hug was never their style.

And lastly, if a monster could overcome all these things to embrace its human—

It meant the monster had tasted the flavors of both obsession and desire.

Asta whispered softly into the ear of the bold human who dared to hold him without reservation. His movements were without restraint, like an offering, as if laying everything bare before him—yet his ears quietly turned red.

“I love you,” Asta said. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Isidor’s eyelids trembled slightly. He tried to satisfy Asta’s wish, gently pulling away from the embrace to adjust for a proper kissing angle. But then—tentacles, spreading from Asta’s fingertips, gently stopped his movement. Still locked tightly in the embrace, Isidor felt something like the peck of a tiny bird softly touch his earlobe.

First came the kiss to his ear, then tracing upward through his brown hair—kissing his neck, his cheek, his forehead.

Isidor tilted his head slightly upward, and a faint shimmer of mist welled up in his eyes.

He realized he was still being held, but something wasn’t right—there were too many limbs. The monster must have cheated, using far more tentacles than it should. Even when they pulled apart, he caught sight of tentacles hastily retreating into Asta’s shadow. Asta stood there innocently, looking up as if nothing had happened.

But—

“Your wounds have healed a lot more,” Asta said. “When I hugged you just now, I checked a little. That’s wonderful. And I brought you a cream croissant as a reward for resting well.”

“Mm.”

Isidor slowly tugged at Asta’s hand, unwilling to let go, wondering if, once fully healed, he could ask for some other kinds of gifts.

The shadow behind the monster swirled ominously, like a scene from a horror film. A mass of tentacles struggled out from the darkness—but instead of bringing destruction, they simply offered a paper bag, a bracelet, and a diary. Asta casually took them and handed them to the human.

The gem on the bracelet was the same emerald green as Isidor’s eyes.

As Isidor held the items in his arms, he couldn’t help but sigh softly.

“Asta, you’re amazing. You managed to do so many things while you were away—things I never imagined.”

If the monster wanted to become a leader, it could have easily done so. Now, the organizations outside treated it like a god delivering orders directly. The special forces unit, led by John, had somehow been coaxed into its camp. Most of the monsters had submitted under its power. “The Flower” faithfully delivered every piece of information to them.

But Asta didn’t want to become a savior—or the calamity that would end the world.

And it was terribly humble about it all.

“Most of it was thanks to you,” it said, lowering its gaze as it carefully fastened the bracelet back onto the human’s wrist. It suited him perfectly—especially the two tiny black metal stars.

“If not for everything you did before, I could never have gathered so much power. Really, it was just a simple inheritance. After all, I told everyone I met that you were dead—and I stood there, stronger than them all, knowing exactly what I was doing.”

The tiny stars on his wrist gave off a faint, cool sensation. Isidor slowly realized that the corners of his mouth were already lifting into a smile.

“In the Book of Destiny…”

“Hmm?”

“I mean… we’re written on the same line—including everything that’s happening now.”

The real Book of Destiny—the black book that represented the will of the world—had long since fled in exasperation at their constant clinging and sweetness, deciding to stay away for the night. It flipped open its pages, recording this moment absentmindedly. Next to the Third World’s record, it scribbled the name of its cooperating party—the villain alpha.

But this was its private note. It could write whatever it pleased.

It crossed out “alpha” and wrote Asta’s true name as a monster.

Then it paused on the same line and neatly added Isidor’s name as well.

On the other side, Isidor gazed at Asta, emerald eyes reflecting soft, warm light.

“When everything is over… let’s run away together, to the ends of the earth, just like in the books.”