"...Fuck me."
Grimm muttered under his breath, staring at the carnage before him as he stood at the edge of the clearing, his boots sinking slightly into the damp soil. The stench of blood and burnt flesh hung thick in the air.
Bodies — four of them — lay scattered around a single, smiling figure.
It didn't take a genius to understand what had happened here: betrayal and plundering.
Scenes like this were nothing new inside the Tower.
It was the oldest truth of this world — humans had always been greedy, long before even the Tower appeared. But the Tower had twisted that greed into something far worse. Inside these lawless floors where no authority could intervene, strength was law, and treasure was worth more than loyalty.
Every awakener knew this. That was why alliances were fragile — even the best of friends could turn into executioners the moment a high-level treasure glimmered in sight.
And the scene before Grimm was the perfect example of it.
Without hesitation, Grimm shifted into a defensive stance. A confrontation was inevitable.
Even though law enforcement couldn't monitor what happened inside the Tower, they still recognized "plundering" as a capital crime — killing a fellow awakener for loot. Those caught faced severe punishment. And judging by the number of bodies, this wasn't petty theft. It was a massacre — a heavy offense that would incur the harshest penalty.
Which meant one thing — the perpetrator would never let a witness walk away.
Grimm's assumption proved right almost instantly. The blond straightened, dragging his dagger across his palm before turning his gaze toward the only survivor — the porter.
The boy stood frozen, tears streaking down his dirt-stained face as he looked to Grimm, clinging to a fragile thread of hope. But that hope was crushed in the next instant — the dagger flashed.
A crimson arc cut through the air. The porter's head tilted unnaturally before his body crumpled to the ground.
The blond turned to Grimm, eyes bright with twisted amusement.
"Your turn," he said, lips curling into a grin. "Come on — don't disappoint me."
Grimm didn't answer. His gaze sharpened as he activated Omnivision.
A translucent window flickered before his eyes, data scrolling rapidly.
---
[Gerald Milton]
-Rank: Wood
-Level: 13 (Abnormal)
-Profession: Assassin
-Talent: C-Rank [Phantom]
-[Vitality: 100%]
-[Mana: 100%]
Stats:
-Physical-
[Strength: ??? | Endurance: ??? | Agility: ???]
-Mental-
[Intelligence: ??? | Focus: ??? | Perception: ???]
---
Grimm's brow furrowed.
Abnormal?
And the question marks — that had never happened before.
He'd analyzed every opponent he'd encountered so far, but never once had Omnivision failed to read someone's stats.
Before he could think further, the blond tilted his head, impatience flashing across his face.
"What, done staring?" His grin widened. "Fine — if you won't come to me, I'll come to you."
He moved —
A blur of motion, faster than Grimm's eyes could track.
The dagger flashed — a clean arc aimed directly at Grimm's throat.
Grimm twisted sideways at the last heartbeat — steel grazed his collarbone.
Fast.
Grimm's arm snapped up as he activated Vicious Edge, mana solidifying around his hand into a claw-like shape. He met the second slash head-on, deflecting it with a screech of grinding metal.
Gerald's grin widened, excitement glinting in his eyes. "Heh. You're quick. That's good." He licked the blood from his dagger's edge. "It's no fun if they die too easily."
Grimm clenched his teeth, irritation flashing across his face. What kind of maniac is this?
Before he could catch his breath, Gerald lunged again — a blur of motion. His dagger sliced low — a feint — before curving sharply toward Grimm's throat. Grimm barely caught the motion, stepping back just in time. Claw met steel again, sparks flaring between them.
Grimm retaliated immediately, his claw sweeping horizontally with enough force to rip the air itself. The assassin ducked low, countering with a slash toward Grimm's ribs. Grimm retreated a step, but Gerald followed fluidly, stabbing for his thigh.
Grimm twisted, kicking the blade aside, then followed with a powerful kick to the assassin's shoulder — the force launching him backward.
The two separated.
Gerald landed lightly, rolling his shoulder.
A crack echoed — the dislocated joint snapping back into place.
Grimm's eyes widened. Healing? That fast?
Gerald's grin widened, as if reading his thoughts.
"Yeah. Surprised? It's nice, isn't it?" He flexed his fingers. "No matter how much you hurt me, I heal. Which means…" He chuckled darkly. "You can't win."
Grimm didn't respond, but his eyes hardened. Omnivision still showed the man's vitality at 100%.
Meaning every single injury he'd inflicted was gone.
What kind of regeneration is that?
He narrowed his eyes and activated Energy Vision.
The world shifted.
Colors bloomed into existence — mana currents, vitality lines, the ebb and flow of energy in the surrounding area.
He ignored the dazzling chaos and focused on Gerald.
Within the man's body, mana flowed like white mist — normal.
But then his eyes shifted to Gerald's left arm…
Grimm's breath hitched.
It pulsed with something else — a writhing, dark energy that radiated pure malice. Thick, corrupt, and unnatural.
What the hell is that?
Is that why he's marked "Abnormal"?
Is that the source of his regeneration?
Before he could conclude, Gerald's voice cut through the haze.
"Not much of a talker, huh? Fine by me." His grin sharpened. "Let's make this fun."
He shot forward again — two blades carving through the air in a cross pattern, an X of steel aimed straight for Grimm's chest.
Grimm blocked both with crossed claws, the impact reverberating through his arms.
Sparks flared again and again as the two exchanged blows in a blur of motion — dagger against claw, step against step.
Then Grimm caught one of the daggers mid-clash. His eyes flashed.
Mana surged down his arm.
"Let's see you heal from this."
He slammed his free hand forward.
The ground shattered beneath his palm as a shockwave erupted outward — a thunderous burst that tore through the clearing and sent Gerald flying back, smashing into a boulder hard enough to crack it.
Dust exploded in all directions.
Grimm lowered his hand, eyes locked on the haze.
A faint echo of laughter came from within the dust.
Gerald's silhouette emerged, brushing dirt off his shoulder, his smile now feral.
"Not bad," he said, licking a trail of blood from his chin. "You might actually make me try."
Grimm's stance tightened, mana crackling faintly around him.
Seems I'm in for a real challenge this time.