He was standing right behind him.
Before the man could even blink, Erlen charged — fast, sharp, focused — but missed. The man dodged easily, grinning wide.
"Can you move any slower, weakling?" he mocked.
Erlen's jaw tightened. He shut his eyes and let his instincts take over. The faintest shift in air told him where the man would move. He dashed again — this time, dead on.
BAM!
His kick landed clean into the man's side, slamming into his liver. The impact launched the figure into the wall.
The man coughed up blood but started laughing. "Nice hit! That actually hurt!"
"You can feel pain? You're supposed to be dead!" Erlen said, stepping forward.
"Just for the thrill of the game," the man replied, his smile stretching too wide.
Then—he vanished.
A heartbeat later, a cold hand pierced straight through Erlen's chest. He froze, staring down. The man's arm was buried inside him, holding his heart.
"I haven't felt this warmth in years," the man whispered, voice trembling with twisted joy.
Erlen dropped to his knees as the man yanked his heart free. Around him, his friends screamed — one by one, silenced as they were slaughtered. No matter how fast or strong they tried to fight, it was useless.
When it was over, only Loa remained.
She was hiding under the bed, trembling so hard she could barely breathe.
Footsteps echoed closer and closer… and then stopped.
She could see his legs from the small gap under the bed — and then, they vanished.
Loa let out a shaky sigh of relief. But when she turned—
Erlen's body was beside her.
She gasped, but before she could scream, he opened his eyes.
Her tongue was ripped out, her limbs twisted, and her body torn apart as the monster used Erlen's corpse like a puppet.
Hours later—
Erlen's eyes opened again. His chest was hollow. No heart… yet he was alive.
He looked around — blood everywhere. His friends. Loa. All gone.
He dropped to his knees, trembling, before letting out a scream that shook the whole room.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
His rage burned — but the monster was gone.
By the time police arrived, the mansion was in chaos. Bodies, blood, destruction — everything pointed to something not human.
A sleek black car stopped outside. From it stepped a tall man in a black suit, calm, unreadable.
He approached Erlen quietly. "Come with me."
They stood behind the ambulance as officers rushed by.
"Was it a ghost?" the man asked.
"Yes," Erlen said, voice rough. "I tried to fight it… but the last one was too strong."
"You mean there were others before him?"
"Yeah. A child, a woman, and that man."
"And the others — they saw everything?"
Erlen nodded.
The man smirked slightly. "Good. You're not crazy."
"You're not police, are you?" Erlen asked.
"No. We're from an organization that deals with... the things ordinary people can't handle. Ghosts, curses, monsters. And by direct order from the President, you're being recruited."
Erlen blinked. "Recruited? Me?"
"Exactly. Tell me — do you have any particular abilities? Mental, physical, or otherwise?"
Erlen sighed. "I don't know if it counts, but… I've always had this thing — I can sense danger, like I know what's coming. I call it my 'Sixth Sense.'"
The man nodded thoughtfully. "A natural-born gift. Rare."
"I don't care what it is," Erlen said coldly. "I just want revenge."
The man's eyes narrowed. "You'll have your chance. But first—follow me."
The car door shut behind them.
That night, Erlen's ordinary life ended — and his path as a hunter began.