Chapter 86: Set in Stone
Seo-jin sat alone in his office, feeling the day still clinging to him like rot. Min trying to kill him. The angel. Gregor needing rescue. All of it chewed through his nerves. He'd kept Min with the Dead Hands and saved Gregor, but the rest was a mess. The contract still out of reach. The truth of his shard hanging over him like a blade.
Leaning back in the chair, his chest felt heavy, his body running on fumes as he looked to his UI.
"Three hours… too fucking long."
His hands dragged through his hair, greasy with sweat. The lie he'd fed them about preparing materials for the contracts had bought him time. They'd believe it for now. That gave him time to deal with something he actually could fix.
He'd decided it was time to connect to the Network.
They'd left the Wire Dogs' territory behind, they couldn't hold it, not with their numbers. He figured they could always take it back later. What he didn't know was how fast word had already spread. His Brood's massacre had become a story, twisted and exaggerated, growing teeth of its own.
By the time they made it back to base, Split-jaw limping, the twins silent, every Dead Hand avoided his eyes. Whispers followed him through the docks.
Panic's frenzy had done more than kill. It had infected them.
Seo-jin leaned back, the faintest grin crawling onto his face at the memory. The weight on his chest didn't lift, but it changed shape.
The grin died as soon as he looked at the bar glowing in his UI.
[13%]
The number crawled like decay. The shard was still syncing, half his power locked behind the process. No system. No skills. Just flesh, bone, and the Brood.
Pain, Panic, and Snare were piled on the floor nearby, surrounded by bones. Snare had stacked them into a crooked tower, tongue sticking out as he added another piece. Panic yanked one loose, and the pile collapsed. The crash echoed through the room, the sound followed by howling laughter.
Seo-jin didn't laugh. His eyes were open but distant, fixed somewhere else.
Too much was boiling in his skull, his shard, his evolution, the contracts, his rank. But what really burned sat deeper. A thought seeded by John's old data tablet. Confirmed by the angel's last words.
'That's why I can't make a contract. Demons are born able to. It's part of what makes them demons. If I can't… then I'm not one.'
The logic fit too well to ignore.
The texts filled in some blanks, and the angels words had made it apparent, two breeds of Hellkind: Demons, and Demonic Beasts. He knew which side he'd crawled out of. Imps were beasts, not kin. Even evolved, that truth clung to him.
He flexed a hand, one finger warping into a claw. Black flesh, smooth, seamless, alien.
"So what am I then?"
Grimm drifted down from above, entrails swaying like ribbons as he hovered over Seo-jin's hand. The little ghost chittered softly, trying to comfort him.
He didn't look up. The thoughts wouldn't stop circling. Too many gaps. Too much silence. And without the system voice gnawing in his ear, the quiet felt wrong. Too big, too hollow.
For the first time since the Maw, he realized how much he'd depended on that presence. And he hated that.
The silence pressed harder.
He hated this feeling most of all...being alone again.
He shoved the unease down and forced his thoughts elsewhere, to something tangible. Something he could focus on while he waited.
The evolution requirements.
He'd earned a ten-percent boost to Soul Integrity from the angel's death. Most of it had burned away keeping him alive through the light, but enough remained to unlock the next path forward.
Before linking the shard to the Network, he'd checked the new conditions. Simple enough. Condition One: expand the Brood to ten spawn. Condition Two: raise all base stats to C-rank.
Strength, Agility, and Vitality were already there. Intelligence, Flesh, and Will, lagging behind at D.
'Manageable. Grind levels. Grow the Brood. Easy enough. Once my shard—'
A snarl broke his train of thought. Pain and Panic were at each other's throats again...literally. Bones clattered as they rolled through their ruined tower, claws and teeth flashing. Snare jumped in to separate them, his staff clanging against their hides.
Seo-jin didn't move. Just stared until the noise got irritating.
"Let him up. And cut the shit. You're guards, not children."
Pain let go with a huff. Panic spat out a chunk of something that might've been his brother's ear.
"Sorry, Broodfather."
"Games suck. Nothing bleeds."
Snare stepped closer, his staff pulsing faint light, its ability burning another charge to sweep for nearby threats. The glow dimmed, and he frowned.
"Only one hostile nearby, Broodfather. The large human female. Forgive me for asking—but why not just kill her?"
Seo-jin didn't answer right away. He'd asked himself the same thing more than once.
"She's worth more alive. When that changes, I'll deal with her."
It sounded clean coming out of his mouth. Logical. Ruthless. The kind of line a leader would give his soldiers. But even as he said it, he felt the lie press in. He could've killed her. Should've. Yet something in him refused.
His jaw tightened.
'Because of Seo-jin? No. I burned him out. I didn't get any personality bleed.'
He glanced at his hand again, the skin dark and ridged like cooled tar. The lie didn't ease.
Too many questions. Too much noise in his head. Every thought felt like teeth grinding bone.
Then...something cracked open in his memory.
The Maw. Those hollow imps, shuffling corpses chewing on nothing. Rot with no purpose. The sight burned through him again, twisting anger into clarity.
"It's waste...that's why I did it."
Snare tilted his head.
"Did what, Broodfather?"
Grimm drifted in beside him, entrails swaying like ribbons in still air. Only Snare could see him, so the two had started to grow close, though Seo-jin wasn't sure if that was comforting or not.
He didn't answer his broodling right away. Let the thought roll around first.
"I figured something out. About me."
He stood, stretching until his spine cracked.
"You'll learn this eventually—the more you fight, the more you'll act before you think. Humans call it a gut reaction."
He walked over to the pile of bones they'd been playing with, reached in, and pulled one free. A femur burned clean. Holding it high, he turned back to them.
"What do you see?"
Panic lunged first.
"A bone!"
Seo-jin glanced at Pain.
"A trophy?"
Then he fixed on Snare.
"What do you see, Snare?"
Snare swallowed, eyes flicking over the bleached femur as if it might bite back.
"I—I'm not sure. It's just a bone."
A small tremor ran through the broodling at his own uncertainty. Seo-jin only inclined his head.
"Not surprising."
He flung the bone back into the heap; it clinked, dull as a verdict.
"You found these on the fourth floor. Children of Light. Vaporized by their own leader. You all look at them and see scraps—bones, trophies, food. That's what a lesser creature sees."
He settled into his chair, fingers steepling for a moment.
"I see waste. Followers burned for nothing. Pointless deaths. If their end has any meaning, it's this: to teach you."
He leaned forward, eyes cold and precise.
"We are hellspawn. We rip and take and trample to get what we need. Desire drives us. But waste—waste is a sin I won't tolerate. Every drop of blood must count. Every fallen thing must be used until it is hollow. You do not leave value behind. You harvest it. You feed from it. When there's nothing left to squeeze out, then discard it. Understood?"
Each broodling reacted different, but all understood.
Snare moved first, no hesitation. He picked up the femur and shoved it down his throat.
Panic blinked.
"Why'd you do that?"
Snare wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"So I won't forget. Lessons from the Broodfather should be treated like treasure."
Pain and Panic traded a look, then followed. Each grabbed a bone, forced it down, their throats bulging. The sound of it filled the room.
Seo-jin watched. No disgust. No pride. Just acknowledgment. They understood.
For the first time in days, the pressure in his chest began to ease. Until now, everything he'd done had been survival: kill, feed, evolve, repeat. But this was different. This was understanding.
He wasn't human. Wasn't demon. Not yet anything complete. But he knew one thing now. Waste disgusted him. Purpose mattered. Use mattered. Every drop, every inch, every life taken had to mean something.
That truth settled in his bones. He felt clearer, heavier, real.
He looked to his UI.
[18%]
The numbers crawled slow, but certainty had weight. His mind sharpened around it. Soon the Network would open. Soon he'd have what he needed.
He leaned back, claws tapping the armrest, a grin pulling across his jaw.
Soon, the real work would begin.
Dungeon farming.
----
He sat back in the chair, one claw still drumming. The UI searing into his eyes...[98%]....[99%].
He didn't blink. Couldn't. Three hours of waiting had felt like eternity.
"Come on...finish."
The bar crawled upward, one last fraction at a time. He looked half-alive, eyes too still, skin tight over his jaw. The broodlings had gone silent, their eyes fixed on him like animals waiting for a storm.
[100%]
The bar dissapeared, and his breath stopped.
And then everything ruptured.
System light poured into him, unseen, like an invisible tidal wave of information. His mind split open, every sense grinding at full volume. Sound became metal. Heat turned liquid. The smell of oil, dust, blood, all of it hit at once until he couldn't tell where he ended.
He gritted his teeth, nails digging into the desk, vision trembling. Too much. Too loud. For a heartbeat, he wanted it to stop. For another, he wanted more.
Then it leveled. The flood sank into clarity—terrible, absolute clarity.
He exhaled slow. The air stank of ozone. His pulse thundered as a system panel ignited.
[Connection Established // Network Update Complete]
Followed by a voice he never thought he'd miss.
[Update successful. All systems stable. Congratulations, User. Full Network access confirmed.]
He blinked once. The corners of his mouth twitched.
"Finally."