TBR CH111

Warning, warning! Level One containment breach detected. Personnel in the relevant zones, evacuate immediately. Special Ops, take your positions. Warning, warning!

—This is the highest-level crisis alert of the Institute, usually triggered only after the internal system has completely collapsed.

“Can you hear it?”
Asta asked the Black Book, “The sound of the wind.”

The Alpha’s room had been configured to simulate most of the natural climates found in the outside world. When Isidor blew up the control room’s network, he locked all environmental settings to their default values. Apart from the strong light that had already killed most organisms and the shattered net-like glass ceiling, everything here appeared surprisingly calm, with the sea breeze constantly blowing.

But the monster wasn’t talking about that. The world consciousness understood perfectly.

This room would soon cease to be a sealed prison and would be thoroughly broken open. The goal had been set months ago, and a certain green-eyed human had carried it out—until today.

The wind from outside came from the vast sky, its aura utterly distinct from artificial wind.

The Black Book rested quietly in the monster’s hand. Asta started to wonder if it might be a little nervous—after all, everything had to be resolved today, and for it, this was perhaps a bit ahead of schedule. Although the world consciousness always acted confident before them…

“I’m fine,” the Black Book wrote, its handwriting a little shaky. “We all have to do our part, right? Isidor too. He’s still reading the data. When the time comes, it’ll be just as we agreed—each of us acting separately.”

“Of course,” Asta could tell it was nervous after all. The monster’s voice had a bewitching quality to it, quieting the mind and compelling obedience. But it only said:

“I believe in all of you.”

“I believe you’ll pull it off, too.” The Black Book awkwardly expressed its opinion, then stiffly changed the subject:
“Isidor said the villa you two bought will have a specially customized, beautiful bookshelf. I mean, if I ever visit you, remember to reserve the very center spot for me.”

“No problem,” the monster replied without hesitation.

The world consciousness finally relaxed a little. At that moment, the door to the cabin pushed open from the inside, and Isidor walked out holding a pen and papers, smiling at them. His wrist was bare—the bracelet was now worn by Asta. The stone used for communication was glowing faintly on it.

“I’ll take you out first and then connect to the comms,” Asta said, glancing up at the sky.
“See you in a bit.”

The human tiptoed and kissed it lightly. “See you in a bit.”

The titanium-white metal door opened again. The Black Book that had been in Asta’s hand vanished without a trace. The research institute now ran like a well-oiled machine, unaware of the upheaval to come. In the calm before the storm, rich floral scents quietly seeped into rooms across the complex.

Monsters looked up.

A member of the Black Hawk Special Forces shut his eyes tightly, then picked up his black rifle.

Hill suddenly felt a jolt of unease.

Don’t worry, he told himself. Today was the day Alpha had promised to come see him.

New hires at the Institute always needed time to get used to its layout—at least, that’s what John Anthony, freshly onboarded today, instinctively believed.

He’d always been unlucky, and now he was lost in the work area, wandering.

White walls, standardized rooms and nameplates—behind each, some bizarre and dangerous entity. Researchers hustled around everywhere. John cautiously tucked away his ID card, the only thing that could confirm his identity to the security systems. His name was so common, the Institute had at least twenty employees named the same.

Surveillance cameras, metal walls, massive locks, and electronic traps—it was an airtight prison.

The young newcomer looked up at the security systems with awe.

Almost like nothing bad could ever happen here, he thought. And in a way, he wasn’t wrong—this was the area voted “Most Reassuring Spot in the Institute” for years running. The monsters here had been contained long-term and effectively. The last breach happened years ago, and the alarm had long gathered dust.

John was a little tired from walking and leaned against the wall embedded with the emergency alarm. He rested while scanning the area for a friendly-looking staff member to ask for directions.

But things don’t always go the way you hope.

The alarm blared sharply, like the first scream in a horror film. Poor John, leaning on the wall, felt like his whole body vibrated with the soundwave.

He stood frozen in confusion, looking up at the glowing red light overhead. Years of dust fell from the fixture under its spinning blood-red glow.

“What…?”

He muttered, hopefully looking at the veteran staff, longing to hear that this was normal—or just a prank. But in his mind, he recalled the half-joking warning he’d heard during onboarding:

“If the light just glows, there’s still hope to escape quickly;
If the alarm sounds too, danger is already nearby;
And if it starts to spin—”

His legs locked up, suddenly heavy like they’d been filled with lead.

The wall behind him crumbled to powder. First-day-on-the-job John stared wide-eyed, the hairs on his neck standing up from the chill. All around him, people were fleeing in terror. He screamed at himself to run, run, but tears of fear welled in his eyes—and still, he couldn’t move.

Why me? Why today? Why here?

Then he realized why he couldn’t move.

Behind him, the wall had already been pulverized by a monster. Its foul breath pressed against his back. Sharp claws were already reaching out—ready to skewer him like a shish kebab.

What was that saying again—

“If the alarm light is spinning, the only thing left to do is die quickly.”

Within five minutes, the research institute descended into complete chaos. The security system collapsed, making existing vulnerabilities even easier to exploit. Then the power supply was mysteriously cut—guaranteeing more casualties.

The Institute now had zero defense against external breaches.

Asta stood in the dark—but its eyes were darker still, setting it apart from all the other monsters. It lowered its gaze to the humans kneeling before it, each bearing the black star symbol on their wrists. These people had started the riot. Yet now, they were humble and reverent.

“Lord, is all this proceeding according to your divine will?”

At this moment, the monster used its human form. But its true body was behind the door. Unlike the previous video calls, seeing their revered god up close crushed the followers with overwhelming pressure. Asta’s black eyes seemed like frozen seas, shimmering with shifting colors when stared into.

“I see it,” Asta’s voice twisted unnaturally.
“Humans paying for their sins. Blood, torn flesh, broken bones. That is what’s happening in this Institute right now.”

The lead worshipper let out a relieved breath, lifting a pair of sickly eyes filled with gratitude.

“Destroy them. Grant us rebirth, O black god. Please allow me to offer this world to you as a sacrificial gift.”

“Oh?” The black-haired, black-eyed god smiled malevolently.

“Then I shall personally accept the offering. Only the creations I destroy will witness this process. As for you—stay here and open the gates you promised. Remember: absolute loyalty. All your actions are under my command.”

The followers looked uneasy, especially about Asta’s departure.

But the dark god’s commands could not be defied. The monster had proven itself—the very image of the ruthless, bloodthirsty being from prophecy, wielding unmatched power and executing cold, emotionless judgment. This was the one true arbiter.

A moment of hesitation, and the gaze on their skin scorched like fire.

“Yes.” They knelt, trying to kiss the god’s feet. But Asta stepped back, coldly warning them not to overstep.

The monster’s footsteps echoed like taut needles. The believers were crushed by its oppressive presence. Their fanaticism and faith seemed finally grounded. No one even dared to breathe.

And Asta crushed a peppermint candy between its teeth.

It didn’t matter. It had more.

Walking through darkness was not unlike diving into the deep sea. Shadows were everywhere—perfect for hiding its limbs. But now, concealment didn’t matter. Human screams and the sounds of buildings being destroyed filled the Institute. Monster scent was everywhere.

The lightless facility was turning from prison to slaughterhouse.

But they wouldn’t let that happen.

Some monsters had already heard Alpha’s footsteps. Their king stood quietly at the corner, staring into the dense blackness where glowing eyes blinked—yellow, red, as bestial as wolves. Asta had previously sent “Flower” to deliver a message to them, and these were the creatures who obeyed the summons.

Some monsters, like humans, trembled in the dark. Others watched Asta with veiled hunger, instinctively weighing whether they could kill and replace it.

Some monsters had forms. Others defied description.

But none bore the scent of blood—yet. That meant, at least on the surface, they’d obeyed and ignored the humans to get here first.

Even if that obedience was laced with malice and challenge.

Asta, in a thin human form, stood at the edge of the wall, not releasing its power. Those cruel eyes silently drew closer.

“Is everyone here?”

To Alpha, whose vision was adapted to the deep sea, seeing in the dark was effortless. It counted them all, and sighed inwardly.

As expected, there were too many anomalies it could no longer suppress.

Once they were given the opportunity to see daylight again, the first thing they thought of was exacting frenzied revenge on the humans who had once contained them—so much so that they ignored Alpha’s guidance and insisted on drawing first blood. Asta didn’t think such behavior could be easily condemned; after all, what the research facility had done to these creatures was bad enough.

But mindless retaliation wouldn’t harm the ones who actually issued the orders—it would only kill the majority of innocent, defenseless humans.

The chaos in front of the King of Monsters had reached a point that could no longer be ignored.

Asta sighed and unwrapped another peppermint candy from its breast pocket and popped it into its mouth. Most of the monsters in front of it couldn’t understand this act, nor had they ever tried sweet food or candy. They watched the small, ordinary white tablet with wariness.

The spicy sweetness bloomed across its taste buds—at the same time, as if on cue, the high-level monsters before it all launched an attack.

A raven’s feather floated in the darkness, accompanied by a sharp, piercing screech. The ground beneath its feet seemed to melt suddenly, a sticky texture trying to pull it down entirely. From behind—a visual blind spot—came a tooth-grating sound, like a thousand needles scraping across metal.

“I’m glad you all came,” Asta said politely, completely unperturbed by it all. Its voice couldn’t be described in any known language—it pierced directly into the monsters’ hearts. “But there’s no need to be so impatient.”

Behind it, the previously empty hallway corner now revealed countless black eyes.

The feather was torn apart by its appendages, which then eagerly dove into the melted ground. Chemical sizzling echoed; the monster attempting a sneak attack was pinned by countless eyes from all sides, forced to bow under immense pressure.

Only now did the monsters realize: Asta’s eyes had long since hidden within the surrounding darkness. Every possible exit was blocked by wildly spreading appendages. The slitted pupils glowing along the tentacles observed them from every direction. The pure and overwhelming force dragged them all down as if they were in the deep sea.

Among them, “Flower” suddenly realized something with terror and despair. It frantically tried to send a signal through its floral scent, but just as the rich aroma began to seep out, it was suppressed by Asta’s icy abyssal aura.

The message could not get through. It was a physical form of muting.

“Alright then,” Asta curled its lips into a smile. “Now we can talk properly.”

The rookie named John squeezed his eyes shut in despair. The blood in his body felt frozen as he focused all his senses on the fishy breath at his back. All he could think about was how he shouldn’t have thrown away that half-eaten cheeseburger this morning, just to save time.

Who would’ve guessed that could be his last cheeseburger in this life?

If given more time, of course he would have begun thinking about his life, his dreams, and his family. Work at the research facility was always known to be dangerous—but he had only applied to be a clerical worker in a secure area. He wasn’t supposed to meet such a miserable end. His thoughts had just begun to drift from this morning’s five minutes to contemplating his fate when—

A gut-tearing, thunderous sound exploded in his ears.

Darkness filled John’s vision, and he thought it was finally time to lose consciousness.

But… where was the pain?

Another loud “bang” rang out, sharp enough to pierce his eardrums. He clenched his teeth and forced his eyes open, turning around—only to see a creature that looked like a monstrous mash-up of the most dazzling insects, its arms or limbs lined with gleaming silver needles, desperately swinging them at something.

Before it could strike, another gunshot rang out.

Finally, the rookie John saw its target: in the dust stirred by the collapsing creature, a person emerged like a superhero from a movie. Clad in full combat gear, they expertly avoided dangerous zones, the barrel of their gun still faintly smoking. They strode toward him and asked,

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Their eyes, steel gray, gave off an impression of unshakable resolve—just like agents on the big screen.

“N-n-no, I’m fine…”

John Anthony stammered like a fan meeting their idol, stealing glances at the gun, praying he didn’t come off as completely green.

Somehow, the chaos around them had settled down. Special task operatives were calmly guiding researchers to safety, resolving the incident with shocking speed and efficiency—as if they had long anticipated this breach.

So this is the research facility… the newbie thought, full of awe.

Black Hawk didn’t plan to waste even a second more than necessary. He barked a few commands into his radio, glanced briefly at John’s ID badge, then paused:

“Good. Mr. Anthony, please follow the security team.”

The situation looked terrible on the surface—but that was misleading. Thanks to Asta providing a detailed map of which monsters were going to breach and which would be difficult to handle, Black Hawk had already stationed his team accordingly.

He didn’t need to waste time explaining to the facility. He could issue orders directly to his squad.

Other special agents had almost panicked in the face of this level of catastrophe. Black Hawk only needed to lead slightly—like a bellwether leading a flock—and everyone followed him instinctively.

Of course, some creatures had gone missing. But for now, ensuring human safety was the priority.

Most radio reports were optimistic, but some monsters had entered a berserk state similar to previous incidents. A few had highly dangerous containment profiles, capable of mental-level attacks. Some intelligent ones had begun gathering, increasing their strength.

They were short-staffed. As captain, he had to get there—now.

One unlucky team had fallen into an ambush. What they thought was just chalky wall dust turned out to be something else entirely. The moment their boots touched it, the white dust clung tightly to them—elongating into countless wriggling spikes.

“Chalk Worms.” An SS-level creature, never supposed to be in this sector.

Worse, they moved faster than expected, expanding outward from a central trap, building nests and digesting any lifeform caught in their web.

Shooting the spikes only made them split into two. The main body lurked nearby, maliciously watching, waiting for the paralyzed humans to become easy prey.

Black Hawk tried to issue new commands—but the radio was jammed. Probably caught in the creature’s damp and rubbery body. Cursing under his breath, he ran even faster. When he finally arrived, the corridor was flooded in white secretions.

“Egret! Heron!” he called out. “If you can hear me, respond immediately!”

The hallway resembled a giant mouth, echoing with muffled laughter. Gritting his teeth, he fired into the mass—but the bullets were swallowed instantly by the fibrous goo.

He had to tread carefully, lest he trigger another powder trap.

No time. He gave up on his now-useless gun. A bomb flashed through his mind—but chalk worms react violently to fire, and in this limited visibility, he couldn’t guarantee a clean hit.

Instead, he drew a special dagger. The blade cut into the white surface, which recoiled like a living thing.

Faster. He stabbed in deeper, hoping to catch the monster off guard.

This time it didn’t dodge. The blade was gripped by the fibrous mass. A deadlock. A fight for strength.

He had no time to waste.

“Move.”

The voice startled him.

Had he imagined it? All noncombat personnel were evacuated. The remaining forces were under his direct command. While he had deployed people to deal with the Chalk Worms, they hadn’t yet arrived.

So why did he hear such a commanding voice?

And why was it so damn familiar?

John turned stiffly—his pupils shrank.

No one was behind him. Just as he’d expected. Which meant… the voice came from the other end of the blocked hallway.

Before he could even think, his body reacted instinctively to the order and moved aside.

At that moment, an explosion roared down the corridor, rolling with the force of fire and smoke. Orange-red flames ignited the airborne white powder, rushing toward Black Hawk like a wave.

He instinctively raised his weapon. In the chaos, his sharp eyes caught everything.

Though the blast had just grazed his face, what lay in the hallway wasn’t the chaos he’d expected. The Chalk Worm’s whimpering echoed with its destroyed body. The drifting powder now dampened the blast’s force.

John saw his teammates—Egret and Heron—pressing their hands to the ground and pushing themselves up.

They seemed okay.

The unit’s creed was simple: if you can move, you fight. Just like their captain, both were immediately back on alert, aiming their weapons toward the hallway’s end.

In this facility, any anomaly meant danger. Guns aimed into the smoke.

What if that was another monster? What if the worm retaliated?

Yet their captain had gone utterly still.

Black Hawk was the first to see the face. His grip tightened. He strode forward, past his disheveled teammates.

“I destroyed the Chalk Worm’s core. It can’t move anymore.”

That same voice, again.

Seeing their captain’s tense body, the team didn’t relax—they grew even warier. Was this really a human? Or something disguised?

“No, it’s okay,”

John murmured, dazed. “Put your weapons down. I know him.”

The shattered fragments of the Chalk Worm’s body finally drifted down from the air and landed on the floor. It looked like a disgusting version of snowfall and crunched underfoot like plastic foam. In the dust-settled corridor, the mysterious rescuer finally revealed his true appearance.

Egret and Heron realized that they, too, should recognize this man—the very person responsible for derailing the Dawn Project. But just like Black Hawk, their first thought was identical:
Wasn’t this man supposed to be dead?

Isidor gave John a faint smile.

“Long time no see, Black Hawk. But now’s not the time to reminisce,” he said. “Next, come with me to Sector A. The monster you let escape is headed that way. I heard there are many executive offices there?”

“Teacher… you’re… not dead—”

Black Hawk’s words came out in fragments, then he realized all he’d done was state the obvious.

But the shock had indeed shattered and rebuilt his mind in an instant.
“Wait, so Alpha was lying to me. God, I actually believed a monster again. How’s your injury? Did it do anything to you? What’s your whole plan? Sorry, I know—”

He raised his hand and quickly gestured for the others to follow.

“You once said that in a crisis, the most important thing is to deal with what’s right in front of you. I’ll do just that.”

Hill gripped the collar of his shirt tightly with his left hand, feeling sweat soaking his palm.

Asta had been locked back into its room these past few days, but only Hill knew: the world’s most powerful villain boss would never be confined by a faulty program. It had come to him—a black shadow, with tendrils rustling quietly in the dark. His life had become a horror story.

Originally, they could only meet during morning work hours.

But Asta had come out to see him several times over the past two weeks. Strangely, no one at the facility seemed to notice its escape. Or maybe those were just fragments or projections of it. Hill had tried to mention it to John, but John always brushed it off, as if he hadn’t paid attention at all.

Of course, he couldn’t say anything directly. But perhaps, that was a good thing.

Lately, even the system had been calculating the fortune value he had accumulated in this world. This awful dating-sim-like world was finally nearing its end, and Hill felt he could breathe a little easier. As long as Alpha surrendered completely—as long as Alpha loved him enough to willingly pour all its fortune value into him—he could leave at once.

But today—the day he had arranged to meet the monster—something went wrong from the start.

First came a sudden blackout. In the complete darkness, he realized he couldn’t recall anything about the facility’s power supply. The employee handbook surely mentioned what a power outage meant—but Hill had never read it.

Next, a sharp, shrill alarm blared outside his door. Even the red light in his room began to flash violently.

“What’s going on?” he murmured with a frown. “Is the containment breach this serious?”

As a “special talent” of the facility, Hill wasn’t too worried about his own safety. Not to mention the special forces stationed outside his residence 24/7—the heavy, metal-reinforced door and his own powers gave him plenty of security.

The real problem was: Alpha was supposed to visit him today. And now, things had gotten complicated.

He lit up his phone screen, casting a faint beam across the room. A message from John popped up:

“There’s been a major security incident at the facility. Stay put in your room, I’ll come find you after this is dealt with.”

…Damn.
Hill began to worry early. Of course, he welcomed John coming to see him—but Alpha was also coming. Most monsters had no concept of human romance, and they were desensitized to betrayal. But their beastly instincts gave them a deep, possessive desire for their chosen mate.

That was exactly how past containment breaches had happened.

To test this, under the facility’s secret directive, Hill had deliberately chatted with another test subject in the same room. The violent monster had instantly torn that person to pieces—and gently covered Hill’s eyes as it did so. And that was just an A-class monster.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

Hill hesitated. The room was still pitch dark—the backup power hadn’t kicked in yet. Besides the knocking, everything was silent. He could only try talking to the system.

“Is that Alpha outside?” he asked. At the very least, the system should be able to sense this.

“No,” the system replied with a cold, mechanical tone. That made him feel a bit more at ease.

But then came its warning:

“Host, please be cautious. The situation within the facility is now very complex. I am attempting to detect your captured targets, but it’s difficult to pinpoint the exact distance. The commotion may be interfering with their behavior.”

The beautiful “Child of God” frowned. But the knocking persisted—growing increasingly urgent. He cautiously approached the door and leaned in to listen. His first instinct was that it was John.

But then, a strong sense of wrongness overwhelmed him.

No.
If it were John, why wasn’t he saying anything?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The knocking was rhythmic, each beat equal in weight and interval, ringing in his ears in the dark. Hill strained to hear more—and faintly picked up the sound of something slimy sliding on the floor.

His eyes widened just as the knocks abruptly turned violent—as if something was trying to force the door open.

He suddenly felt his hand go ice-cold.

Then the knocking ceased. Whatever was outside was now pressed up against the door, and finally began to speak:

“Hill…”

The monster repeated in a childish, eerie voice.
“You… inside here? I’ve come… to see… you!”

Hill scrambled away from the door, gasping for breath, suddenly realizing his footsteps were probably loud enough for the creature to hear.

No—he forced himself to calm down. So what if it broke containment? The atmosphere was creepy, yes, but these monsters were madly in love with him. As long as he showed his face, they would obey him unconditionally.

If that was the case, maybe he could just coax this one back into containment.

The darkness of the room felt oppressive. Hill placed his hand on the doorknob, hoping to resolve this quickly. If John or Alpha arrived in a moment—well, things wouldn’t spiral completely out of control, but it would definitely get tricky.

He was just about to open the door when another sound stopped him.

It was a scraping noise, like friction echoing inside his skull—suddenly moving from far away to right outside the door, dragging with a buzz and hiss. Hill knew that sound too well. After taking on a humanoid form, that monster had become his favorite, because it had a face that was just beautiful enough—and it never spoke.

Wait.
Were both of them outside his door??

Hill hesitated and lifted the brass plate covering the peephole. He cautiously peeked outside.

Sure enough—two monsters were sizing each other up. Both had taken on beautiful humanoid forms to approach him. That alone was unnerving.

Less than a second later, the peephole turned deep blue.

Hill liked the color blue, so he had requested that their eyes be blue.

The “Child of God” quickly stepped back, feeling his spine grow icy.
But worse things were yet to come—he now heard more footsteps. This time, more than one set.
At the same time, sharp scratching began at the other side of the door—like fingernails raking furiously across the surface, urging him to open it.

The first monster’s voice rose again:

“Hill… open… door. Danger… I’ll… protect you. Danger. Danger. Danger—”

Its voice abruptly cut off—not voluntarily, but the way someone’s voice would stop if their throat had been twisted shut. That monster wasn’t strong—especially not compared to the others.
Through the door, Hill could still hear it murmuring “danger, danger” in a breathy wheeze.

The scratching grew louder.

“System.”

He froze for several seconds, then called out like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline.
“This is bad. A lot of monsters must’ve broken containment, and they’re all following my scent. What if they start fighting out there? What should I do?”

Even the system seemed caught off guard by this. This world’s biggest advantage had been that they didn’t need to worry about the targets realizing the host’s betrayal. The monsters were confined to separate rooms and didn’t have mature concepts of romantic rivalry.

Even now—they still didn’t.

If Hill walked out right now, the monsters who realized his betrayal wouldn’t attack him—they would stubbornly tear apart their rivals.

And that was the real trouble.
The system quickly assessed the situation. There were at least four monsters outside, but the second battle hadn’t started yet. They still held hope that Hill would open the door. Monsters of equal level still needed to observe one another carefully before making a move.

The situation hadn’t yet triggered its alert threshold.

To the system, only pursuit from the world’s consciousness itself posed true danger. This was more like an accidental breach. Still, it cautiously added “escape” as a backup plan.

“After calculations, remaining in the room maximizes your current gains.”

Hill bit his lip. He understood the system’s meaning. Rather than interfere, it was better to watch from the sidelines.
Besides, the system had once said: if a source of fortune value is killed by another captured target, the fortune doesn’t disappear.

Whether John came for him—or Asta found him first—

Either way, it would be resolved.

He had no choice but to sit back on the bed again, listening to his heartbeat as he counted the footsteps beyond the door.