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The Garara Gator looming before Shun was the Baron Archipelago's strongest creature—a mutant Garara Gator more than three centuries old.
Longevity had twisted its body far beyond the norm—size, power, everything eclipsed an ordinary specimen.
A typical adult Garara Gator sits at Capture Level 5; this one had reached Level 8.
Its eyes—bigger than lanterns—locked on Shun. From cavernous nostrils it vented thick, reeking white vapor.
The irresistible aroma of roast meat and the "high-quality" life energy spilling off Shun—so unlike anything else on the islands—had lured it in.
To this tyrant that had ruled for three hundred years and treated the entire island as its private hunting ground, the small human before it was—
"Rrroar!"
The bellow hit like a shockwave, making the few surviving trees shudder.
Then the giant moved.
Like a heavy war engine spooling up, pillar-thick limbs pounded forward; each step drummed the earth. It charged with speed that belied its bulk, jaws yawning wide—steel-shearing fangs flashing cold—ready to swallow Shun along with the ground under his feet.
Most people would have their guts freeze solid at that charge. Shun only shook his head.
"Decent speed. Good power. Shame… you're full of openings."
A grandmaster of Food Honor, Shun saw no threat in attacks like these—and their raw strength wasn't even close.
He didn't budge. When those vast jaws were about to slam shut, his body blurred by a hair's breadth, slipping past the kill bite as casually as one might sidestep a bicycle.
The Gator bit empty air. Momentum pitched its skull into the dirt—mouthful of mud and stone.
It snapped up with a hateful lash; its tail—thick as a bridge cable—whistled across from the flank to cut Shun in half.
"Too slow."
Without looking back, Shun rose in an easy hop, turned a neat roll in the air, and the tail scream tore under his soles, not even catching a hem.
For the next few minutes, it was Shun's solo performance.
The Garara Gator threw everything it had—frenzied rushes, lethal bites, bone-breaking tail slams, even attempts to body-crush him under its mass.
To Shun, every strike was clumsy and late.
He moved like a leisurely stroll in a courtyard, always letting the blow pass at the last inch with the smallest, simplest motion—as if he already knew each move before it came.
This wasn't a contest. It was a one-sided tease—and a warm-up.
He used it to feel out his evolved body again—speed, reaction, and the hair-fine control of energy while in Food Honor.
The Gator's simple mind couldn't grasp the gulf between them.
Three centuries of unchecked rule had dulled any real sense for danger. In its small world, this "little bug" was only nimble—hit it once and it dies.
What kept it from running wasn't a king's pride, but ignorance and arrogance tempered by a lifetime without real threats. It could not imagine a being that could end it in an instant.
"Warm-up's over."
Shun slipped past another hammering tail, and his eyes went deep and still—a thin gleam of killing intent surfacing. "Time to finish."
No dodge this time. He planted himself, hands loose at his sides.
A strange aura rippled out from him as the air seemed to thicken and quiet. Scents, sounds—even the light—felt as if they were pooling toward him.
His gaze cleared to glass, tracing the flow of all things.
Food Honor.
In that moment, Shun and the world locked into perfect harmony. His perception spiked to the limit: the giant's size, the shiver of each muscle fiber, the faintest eddies of energy—every line stood out like filigree in his palm.
Even the beast's instincts twitched.
The "little bug's" aura had shifted, gone deep and bottomless, stirring a tremor in whatever passed for its soul.
But three hundred years of comfort had blunted its caution, and arrogance smothered the rest. It roared again and threw everything into one last charge—the strongest it believed it could make.
This time Shun moved.
He didn't retreat. He stepped in.
His right arm rose, five fingers pressed together like a blade. An indescribable sharpness condensed to his fingertips; the air itself hummed.
"Flavor Sever."
The food-tech weapon formed in his hand.
After the last mission, he'd learned to condense it into a true, solid edge. Under the absolute focus of Food Honor, every drop of power compressed, no leak, all destruction sealed into a square inch.
As the Gator's maw fell to engulf him, Shun's arm became a near-invisible afterimage and traced a single, perfect line forward.
Swish.
No wasted motion.
For an instant, time seemed to freeze.
The monster's charge locked up. The pounce stopped mid-flow.
Ferocity and greed bled from its slit pupils, replaced by a blank, disbelieving haze.
A hair-thin red line appeared where the neck met the body—its softer seam.
A heartbeat later—
Splurt.
The colossal head parted from the trunk and crashed to the earth with a sodden boom.
The headless body staggered a few steps on momentum and thundered down, blood flooding out like a burst dam and soaking the ground scarlet.
The Baron Archipelago's overlord—the mutant Garara Gator that ruled for three hundred years—fell to Shun in a single stroke.
He released the food-tech weapon and let out a slow breath. The profound aura around him ebbed.
"Whew. Capture complete."
(End of Chapter)
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