TBR CH112

Sunshine, blue waves, sandy beaches?
No, there’s none of that here! But if you’re looking for thrills, feel free to cruise along the millennia-old fishing routes, wave at the whales and dolphins, brush past colossal chunks of icy seawater, and uncover the chilling, horrific secrets of sea monsters.
Welcome aboard our holiday expedition along the eastern coast of Russia—an extraordinary adventure!
Book now for a special discount on couple tickets!

—An ad for a holiday tour published in the newspaper.
Most of it was pure sensationalist fabrication.

Isidor was covered in freshly spilled blood, dripping from the tip of his rapier, the heavy stench of it cloaking his entire body. He tilted his head slightly to glance back at John.

“What is it?”

Of course, it wasn’t his own blood.
It was a parting gift from the monster’s dismembered corpse now lying on the floor. Even Black Hawk couldn’t suppress the shock and awe in his eyes. Most battles were resolved with ease in Isidor’s presence. Those with higher levels or in berserk states might take more time, but only a little more.

The corpse on the ground had died in an especially unseemly way.
Black Hawk remembered its final attack—aimed straight at his teacher’s heart, which should have been a vulnerable spot for most humans. That move was the monster’s death sentence.

Compared to it, Isidor’s counter was even more ruthless.

Black Hawk knew this wasn’t the time to stop and reflect.
He quickly caught up with Isidor’s stride.

“Teacher, compared to last time…”

He paused, then simply stated,
“Your strength has fully returned.”

The facility was a massive labyrinth. Even with advanced information about the monsters involved in the riot, finding constantly moving entities was never easy. The White Chalk Worm’s erratic path had proven that.
But Isidor never slowed. He had an innate ability to sense the next location.
John, on the other hand, only received relevant updates when they were near a destination.

The separation of the Ibis and the Stork hadn’t been John’s decision—it was at Isidor’s direction. Adding more people wouldn’t have helped. In fact, just the two of them made the operation more efficient.

“Yes.”
Isidor did not deny it. But his acknowledgment only made John’s feelings more complicated.

The hallways that were once bustling were now deserted, save for the vending machine in the breakroom that still faintly glowed.
The power had been cut thoroughly—no restoration until the culprit was found.
John then remembered that the vending machines had been decorated with glow sticks for the upcoming Christmas.

The surrounding environment was nearly pitch black—an atmosphere that should’ve felt terrifying.

Isidor slightly slowed, raising his eyes to the sign before them: Zone A.
As they approached, the darkness thickened. The air carried a foul, bloody scent—an overwhelming sense of danger.
John counted in his head—between the two of them, they’d already taken down all the high-tier wandering monsters.
But many still remained—

Had they all gathered in Zone A?

A chill ran down Black Hawk’s spine.
He instinctively checked his communicator—only now noticing a private message buried among the emergency broadcasts.

Sender: Hill
Timestamp: 30 minutes ago.

“John, come quickly—please come save me. There are monsters all around my door!”

His breath caught.
His muscles tensed.

The image of soft golden hair like twilight and those ocean-blue eyes flashed through his mind.
For a moment, it consumed all thought, pushing him to run—surging forward, even overtaking Isidor, thinking only of reaching the one he loved.

The heavy stench of death and decay pressed down like a suffocating wave.

What if…
John didn’t dare continue the thought.
So far, no one had died in this incident—that was the greatest fortune.
But if something had happened to Hill, and he’d arrived too late—

He’d regret it forever.

“He’s fine.”

Amid Black Hawk’s abrupt, frantic steps, Isidor’s calm voice rang out.

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry. Whatever happens—Hill won’t be the one who dies.”

But those words weren’t comforting to the over-anxious John.
They only made him whirl around to stare at Isidor.

“You know what’s happening here. Wait—you know Hill. After you, he became Alpha’s handler. He still is. Teacher, I know Alpha has a special connection to you. Are you—”

“Don’t say anything stupid.”
Isidor’s voice was cold, though he seemed to smirk faintly.

John finally snapped back to himself.

God, he’d nearly accused Isidor—his own teacher—of bearing a grudge against Hill over this.
That wasn’t something he’d ever think in a rational state. Even when Isidor was powerless, John had never once doubted him like that.

Maybe it was just worry clouding his judgment.

But oddly enough, whenever it came to Hill, he always lost control.

Isidor soon passed him again, advancing silently through the dark.
While John was still reeling with chaotic thoughts, Isidor’s steps turned silent and taut—just like special operatives approaching a monster’s zone.
He didn’t pause at the corridor’s corner, just made a quick hand gesture back.

“The troublesome one is mine.”
That’s what the signal meant. Clear and reliable.

In the dim hallway, Isidor’s emerald eyes gleamed.
His other hand had already gripped his weapon.

“Follow my lead. But no matter what—do not kill them.”

It was a strange order.
But John had no room to object.

They were getting closer to Hill’s room now. Even the air felt distorted.
Isidor didn’t look back—his full attention locked on the aura ahead.

Faint whimpers, anguished shrieks.
The scent of blood growing thick.

The human blood staining Isidor’s clothes had dried by now.
His blade glimmered subtly in the dark—hungry for more slaughter.

Just past this wall—

Hill’s room lay at the end of a long corridor.
When the corridor finally came into view, John was reminded of a photo he’d seen during entomology briefings.

On rainy days in the wild, insects would crowd into any shelter they could find.
Sometimes the density was too high, or they’d crawl into tiny holes and be unable to escape.
When the sun returned, you could lift a tile and find nothing but a mass of devoured corpses.

What he now saw was eerily similar.

The monsters weren’t that dense, but the hallway was a battlefield.
The scene mirrored hell itself.

In Black Hawk’s steel-gray eyes was the reflection of a horrific tableau.

He knew he didn’t have time to gawk.
But for a second—he doubted what he saw.

Were those dark, red-black mangled remains… even human?

“No,”
Isidor explained softly as he pulled the trigger.

“They’re monsters disguised as humans to deceive Hill.
They killed each other.
And the losers had their throats torn out without hesitation.”

At the sound of gunfire, one of the humanoid bodies swayed, then crumpled.

That instantly drew all the monsters’ attention—so there was no need to worry whether their voices would provoke aggression anymore.

“…Hill. Hill. Hill…”

From the darkness ahead, countless whispers emerged.

Then the voices grew sharper—shrieking.
They’d latched onto the name, instantly discerning the intruders’ goal.
A fragile balance was about to collapse.

More terrifying than the monstrous appearances were the voices:
Their human forms looked beautiful yet hollow.
Eyes full of rage and malice, they began to advance.

After an hour of brutal infighting, the remaining monsters were the elite.

“Watch carefully, John.”
Isidor said,
“That one on the right—he’s yours. Aim for his eyes.”

“Yes.”

No hesitation.
Black Hawk raised his gun.
Flames roared from the muzzle, engulfing the creature’s face.
He stopped just as it began to collapse—remembering not to kill.

“Next—the one behind him. Go for the neck.”

While John focused his fire, Isidor had already reached the corridor’s innermost part.

There, a monster had its cheek pressed to Hill’s door.
It finally turned its eyes toward them.

It scoffed at the approaching humans.
Its power was leagues beyond the others.
The noisy ones had already been slain at its feet.

And yet—these foolish humans dared stand in its path, even calling out to their partner.

The monster had ocean-blue eyes.
In Hill’s preferred human form, it had golden hair like melted sunlight—just like Hill’s.

It opened its mouth.
The scream that followed sounded like a thousand needles scraping across a skull.

Isidor didn’t even blink.

“Tricky one,” he murmured.
“You’ve killed many researchers. Developed significant intelligence.
Now, all the fortune and energy from the dead monsters has gathered within you.
If I kill you now—what would happen, I wonder?”

The screams didn’t stop.

The soundwaves became actual spikes—ready to pierce straight into his heart.

His emerald eyes flared like fire.
Then—he smiled.

“I should be gentler, like the stars told me,”
he murmured, voice nearly drowned by the wails.
“At least now, you look human.
So—farewell.”

In the forest of writhing limbs and darkness, Asta stood among the monsters.

This place wasn’t so much a hellscape where beasts gathered—it was more like a silent banquet hall.

Some grotesque bodies lay sprawled across the floor, but there was no scent of blood.
Asta’s tendrils were highly efficient—not only immobilizing the monsters, but capable of handling many at once.

“So,”—

It spoke gently. Most monsters had night vision, but its black eyes were still an unfathomable abyss even to them. “So, you’re the ones left? That’s about what he expected.”

The monsters still standing had just endured a mental assault. Alpha’s voice already had persuasive power over humans, but for monsters—who revered strength—it nearly forcibly reshaped their thoughts, guiding them perfectly. Those who could still think were visibly dazed.

What did “don’t harm humans” mean?

What did “I love this world, so I don’t want it to be destroyed” mean?

These were absolutely not things a king of monsters should say, but Asta delivered them like parting words at a farewell party. It had nothing to do with the expected brutality, revenge, or escape—more like a kindergarten teacher earnestly counseling children. All the while, its countless black eyes, scattered across its roaming limbs, watched the reactions of every single monster.

“This is ridiculous.” “The Flower” was utterly incredulous. Its true form resembled not a blossom but a grotesquely elaborate cage, with fangs that could impale humans into skewers.

And then it was knocked out cold.

Though Asta’s words sounded gentle and kind, its actions were merciless. Once it had eliminated all the dangerous figures, it stood where it was, as if nothing had happened.

The most dangerous monster.

The monster possessing incomparable power.

Holding that title, it glanced at the time and felt things had gone better than expected. Of course Asta knew its voice might have some guiding effect, but it didn’t expect—nor hope—to change the thoughts within other creatures’ minds. Between the bloodthirsty monsters and humanity, true reconciliation was impossible at the root.

But telling them the truth had been kind of fun. And this was the last time anyway.

Asta smiled as it looked toward the monsters still standing.

There weren’t many left, and most of them were timid. Their participation in the riot wasn’t out of a desire to kill, but to escape captivity—or the shadow of death. Their strength was manageable; even if they escaped, the worst they’d cause was some urban legends.

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but Asta and Isidor were never meant to be saviors.

“Well then,” it extended a hand and asked kindly, “would you like a mint candy?”

On the other side of the door, Hill had been listening intently the whole time.

At first, when the monsters gathered, he finally had a clear concept—of all the “successes” he had collected in this world. High-level monsters had all morphed into his preferred image, which only made the scene before him even more revolting.

Screams, wails, cries for help.

Those pitiful monsters who had once professed love to him were now crushed beneath immense power, still chanting his name even in death. Beautiful Hill, beloved by all.

He dared not peer through the peephole again, where a pair of blue eyes was always waiting.

Only when he heard John and another human’s voice did relief wash over him. Hill leaned against the bed. The room’s only light came from his phone’s flashlight—and the battery was almost dead. He couldn’t bear the darkness alone any longer. The moment he heard voices, he rushed to the door.

His hand was already on the doorknob. His excitement blinded him to the subtly commanding tone the other person used toward John. Wasn’t John the Special Unit leader? He must’ve brought his team to rescue him.

Then came the jarring screams—pulling him back to reality.

Screams were a kind of attack, though they had little effect on Hill. Just moments ago, the screaming monster had killed many of its own. According to the system, his only chance was to have John kill it with his own hands. Even if he lost some fortune value, he could reclaim all of it from John.

Was John fighting it now?

The most dangerous monsters should definitely be dealt with by John, Hill told himself. But for some reason, a deep unease gnawed at him.

Cruelly, he even thought: if John were to fail and die, it wouldn’t matter. No matter what, the fortune value was in his own hands.

Though John had once been his favorite in this world, the thrill of commanding humanoid high-level monsters soon matched or exceeded that. He didn’t believe that any concern for John had made him anxious.

In the end, once he had collected enough fortune, he would leave without hesitation.

So why…?

This battle wasn’t simple. Hill could only hear the monster’s increasingly furious and malicious screams from inside the room. When it was hurt, the screams were tinged with pain. This was how the boy gauged the tide of battle.

Until a particular moment—the scream pierced sharper than any before.

Then, silence.

“Is it over?” he heard John’s voice—tired but steady as iron.

“Yes.”

The Special Unit’s other member answered calmly.

Hill had thought this person might be dead, but that didn’t matter. The outcome was what he wanted. Once more he placed his hand on the doorknob. The cold metal against his skin sent a shiver through him.

Then, an alarm blared in his mind like thunder:

“Target Alpha approaching. Distance: 1,000 meters… 800… 400… 100… Please prepare, host.”

The rapidly closing distance burned like fire. Hill yanked his hand away in terror and stared at the door, trying to process everything he had just heard. John seemed unaware, still approaching.

He knocked on the door:

“Are you okay, Hill? It’s me, John. Everything outside is fine now. I just want to confirm you’re safe.”

“Fifty meters… twenty…”

Hill tried to say something, but before he could open his mouth, a loud crash came from beyond the door—as if something massive had slammed to the ground. He instinctively stumbled back.

Like a simple big-fish-eats-little-fish game—when they all met in one place, the weaker was devoured by the stronger. That was the logic of everything so far. The screamer had eaten the other monsters. John had eaten the screamer. And if the one approaching now was the world’s apex predator—Alpha—the outcome seemed inevitable.

John’s voice never came again.

Then the supposedly unbreakable metal door trembled, and was effortlessly torn open. The one who did it was a grotesque mass of writhing limbs. Hill stared in horror down the corridor, now fully engulfed by Alpha’s roiling tentacles. Its humanoid form stood framed in the doorway, fingertips still dripping blood.

“Hill,” its voice still oddly distorted, “I’ve come for you.”

Before the boy could respond, the system’s voice shrieked in his head:

“Host, this is your best opportunity! All fortune is now gathered in the hallway before you. It just killed John. Make it say it loves you!”

Make it fall for you. Make it willingly surrender everything—including the entire world.

This was the final moment.

The thought suddenly bloomed in Hill’s mind. Yes, he had the system. He was the protagonist of this world. All the humans and monsters who had slaughtered each other loved him. Especially this one—this most powerful being.

It had such a perfect face.

To make the owner of that face completely submit to him—what a delightful notion.

“I killed,” Asta found it could now lie without flinching. It spoke haltingly, “the people in the hallway. I was worried they’d hurt you. Hill… would you be mad at me?”

John was dead. That once-handsome human was now likely soaked in his own blood. Hill knew how to choose. If, say, the Dawn Project succeeded and his target changed to John, he’d switch strategies without hesitation.

“Of course not,” Hill smiled sweetly, surprised, “It’s wrong to kill, but you were protecting me. How could I be mad? We agreed to meet here, but it seems a lot happened outside.”

Asta tilted its head slightly.

“It’s all taken care of.”

It spoke with double meaning. There was no need to keep pretending.

Some monsters had been restrained by Blackhawk and rendered immobile. Most of the fortune didn’t go to John but to the true killer—Isidor. None of them were dead, just wrapped in its tentacles.

John was still being forced to listen to Hill’s performance.

Hill was a fine actor—pure and innocent like a bunny meeting its crush. His smile was shy. He approached Asta, and the monster moved toward him too. Sensing his fear, it even withdrew its tentacles and gently placed the door back over the corridor to hide the abyss beyond.

“Faster,” Hill thought.

His voice trembled: “What did you want to tell me today, Alpha? I have so much to say to you, but I’m scared. I… want to know how you feel about me, because I really like you.”

He needed wholehearted promises. Absolute obedience.

He was so close.

The monster smiled. Strange—was it speaking more fluently than usual today?

“Of course,” its voice was warm and helpless, “I’ve brought you a gift, like a human would. Maybe you could take a look first?”

A gift. Another great chance to deepen the connection. What might the monster prepare? Whatever it was, Hill was determined to show joy. Givers were easily moved by recipients’ happiness, and often made deeper commitments.

“Okay,” Hill made his smile look very sweet.

Bathed in the light of a charisma halo, perfect down to the last hair, the boy eagerly extended his hand, ready to accept the monster’s gift. Alpha was the most dangerous, most perfect villain.

Whatever it gave would surely be precious—or meaningful. Hill had received a monster’s heart before. That, perhaps, was the ultimate sign of success.

But what Asta pulled from the shadows and placed in his hand… was a book.

A black, hardbound book.

Hill stared at the book in confusion. At that moment, the system in his mind emitted static—like corrupted data. But only for a second. He felt like he’d lost something important… but everything had happened so fast, it had to be a hallucination.

He kept smiling, flipped to a page—

“What?”

On the paper, and only on that page, was a giant smiley face.