“I washed it yesterday morning…”
Just one day, and it’s already like this. Just like me back then, so… unkempt.
Aino felt a pang of nostalgia.
He hadn’t paid much attention to the man in front of him before. Now, looking at him, there was a sense of familiarity.
A slightly protruding belly, hair slicked down in distinct strands, the whole person looking disheveled.
The hair issue had been a constant source of frustration for Ainor in the past—one day without washing, and it would turn oily. And because of hair loss, he couldn’t even cut it short.
His past self was quite a sorry sight.
With a wry smile, Aino found himself empathizing with this man named Parker—a sense of “Brother, I understand your pain.”
Smiling faintly, Ainor began to respond to his plea.
“What status do these people you know have in this city?”
Parker thought for a moment before replying quickly, “Our boss is the son of a high-ranking official in the city, and he’s very capable. Basically, he does whatever he wants here.”
‘Does whatever he wants, very capable…’
That must be the young man who gave off a particularly appetizing vibe.
After some thought, Ainor hesitated.
He could no longer distinguish whether he was still the mediocre person from the modern world or a genuine, brutal black dragon. The things he wanted to do made his rational mind shudder.
Because he had to stay in the human town, to stay at Uncle Carter’s house, he couldn’t cause trouble, couldn’t act out.
But when faced with something that displeased him, not acting made him feel bad, and it affected Aleya’s mood too.
Staying cooped up in the tiny Dante City was indeed getting boring. Molly’s illness was cured, and perhaps the two of them wanted to live their own lives. It wasn’t right for him and Aleya to keep staying at their place.
The conclusion was becoming clear: why not take Aleya and wipe out those villains, then let Parker and Molly continue their lives?
Maybe it was because he disliked that group, or perhaps it was Aleya’s indignation from that day that moved him. In any case, if he wanted to do it, he would.
With a plan forming in his mind, Ainor looked at Parker, who was watching him expectantly.
“Follow me. Let’s make some preparations, and then we’ll end all of this.”
He led him to the entrance of Carter’s house, feeling a bit dazed.
It seemed like a spur-of-the-moment decision that would completely change their current lives.
Did this contradict what he had told Aleya before?
Well, he had always been impulsive. Previously, he didn’t want to make a big fuss for people he didn’t know, didn’t want to act without fully understanding the situation.
But now, he had a better grasp of what those people were like and had considered several aspects.
Carter and Molly, Aleya, even this greasy-haired Parker—he had thought about all of them. Killing the villains would also be a good deed for the other common folk.
Besides, he really did want to leave, to explore the outside world.
This decision was sudden. After a brief discussion, Molly and Carter were still a bit confused, and Aleya wore an expression of not understanding but going along with it.
He hoped everyone would be alright.
Thinking about what was to come, his stomach growled with hunger.
…
That day, Parker witnessed a calamity.
It was like a grim reaper, without unnecessary words, moving mechanically as if following a set routine.
Smashing with fists, tearing with claws, or evaporating with a burst of flame—various ways to die.
Those people were ones he used to interact with, now like pigs and sheep in a slaughterhouse.
Perhaps pigs and sheep could put up a better fight; these were more like balloons on the ground, popped one by one for amusement.
With plenty of food, it became extravagant and wasteful. After killing each person, it would only take the entrails or nibble on an arm.
Parker vaguely remembered stories from his childhood; this scene awakened some memories.
Tales of man-eating monsters, human intestines hanging from trees, bones scattered on the ground…
Hell probably looked no worse than this.
“Monkey!” A furious shout rang out. Hearing this voice, Parker instinctively shrank back.
The voice was familiar—it was Shevar’s. His impression of him had always been the same: cold, ruthless, a genius, bloodthirsty.
He was a madman and a genius.
Those so-called powerful adventurers or cunning big shots had all been toyed with by Shevar, ultimately dying like dogs, stripped of all dignity.
And he enjoyed the process immensely.
Parker was genuinely afraid of him.
The “Monkey” Shevar called out to was his brother, a skinny man who resembled a monkey.
He was the weakest and most ordinary of the three brothers. Parker figured any random man of the same age wouldn’t be inferior to Monkey in terms of physique or mentality.
Yet, such a weakling had become brothers with Shevar and Black Mountain.
Both of them protected their brothers fiercely. Shevar often gave Monkey money and women, and anyone who secretly envied Monkey was dealt with swiftly.
But now…
With a wave of the monster’s small hand, Monkey’s entire body was gutted, his organs spilling out, blood flowing like a stream.
“Aaaahhhh!” Shevar was beside himself with rage. Parker had never seen him so emotionally charged, like an erupting volcano.
The monster casually tossed Monkey’s corpse to the ground and glanced at Shevar.
Perhaps sensing a worthy opponent, the previously enraged Shevar suddenly reverted to an expressionless face, though his breathing remained heavy. With each breath, his muscles rippled like dragons, and Parker could almost feel the “killing intent” emanating from him.
“What about Black Mountain? You did that too.” His calm voice hid boundless hatred. If not for the monster, Parker was sure that today he would experience something a hundred times worse than death. He knew how much Shevar enjoyed and excelled at torture.
“Hahaha,” the monster spoke, as if finding something amusing.
“A few pieces of trash—dead and gone.”
What was this guy saying? And that attitude—it wasn’t just for show; those people truly were worthless garbage in its eyes.
Shevar didn’t respond. His body tensed like a drawn bow, eyes bloodshot, like a bull fully enraged.
Never, truly never, had he suffered such humiliation. In the blink of an eye, his brothers were killed.
He swore to make these two suffer a hundred kinds of torture, to make them beg for death, so that Black Mountain and Monkey could rest in peace…
Something flashed by.
Suddenly, Shevar was like a dismantled toy, scattered on the ground.
His arms and legs were all broken, leaving only his torso and head, still wearing that icy expression.
“Just trash, you included.” A casual glance.
“N-no… impossible… why, you are…” Shevar finally realized, this so-called genius feeling utterly powerless for the first time, as if he could do nothing.
A slender, pale hand reached out, plucked his heart, and popped it into its mouth to chew.
“Delicious indeed.”
“Let’s go,” it said, turning back to Parker.
The two of them, along with Aleya waiting outside, left the place, leaving behind a ground littered with broken bodies.
—
