'It's too quiet,' he mused, no longer sensing any strong vibrations from above.
Whatever fight was happening upstairs had moved elsewhere, or ended.
'I need to be smarter about this.'
The beast had struck down many before, leaving a path of carnage behind. All he had to do now was follow the trail of blood.
Using his size to his advantage, he crawled into other buildings in search of more corpses.
His assumption was right. Other nearby buildings had been hit by the beast, and corpses lay scattered around like an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Ironic. He was a parasite—a being that took from others without giving anything in return—and now, he was doing exactly that.
He harvested their livers quickly. With more control over his body, he could easily extract them by sharpening and hardening his teeth.
The energy consumption was tolerable, but it still drained his reserves, so he stopped using it from time to time to recover, then repeated the process.
Thirty-nine livers later, he paused.
The rush of power coursing through his small body made him want to continue, but voices from the distance reminded him to stay cautious.
Heavy boots stomped across debris. Radio chatter crackled through the air.
Backing into the hole, he flattened himself against the brick and pipes, making sure he still had a clear view.
Uniformed figures swarmed the area. Blue police jackets, red fire department gear, and white hazmat suits wheeled stretchers toward body bags—the cleanup crew.
"Fifth time this month…" An officer nudged a shard of glass with his boot. "Shit. The Defense Force's always fucking late."
Another one snorted. "Tch. They were dealing with a Category Six outside the city. You want to trade places with them?"
"Excuses," the first shot back. "Half our taxes vanish into their budget and they still can't show up on time. They should hire more people."
A third voice cut in, calmer, almost bored. "It's not that simple. You don't just sign up for the Anti-Beast Unit. You need the right… compatibility and talent."
The bickering continued briefly before a woman in white coveralls stepped forward, ending the debate.
"We've counted sixty-seven confirmed deaths so far." she reported.
"Any survivors?" The first officer asked.
"Seven. They're being treated for shock and minor injuries."
The cleanup dragged on. Police tape cordoned off the worst areas while few a guards patrolled.
'That many casualties, and I barely claimed thirty-nine livers. I'm still not fast enough… but at least the attacks are frequent. I'll have more chances.'
With how quick they were putting corpses into the body bags, he wouldn't be able to get more even if he wanted to.
An idea came to mind: hitch a ride on their vehicles into the morgue.
But if he did, someone from the cleanup crew might notice the fresh wounds on the corpses.
Weighing the risks, he decided against it.
His size was his advantage for now. If they figured out a small beast was going around eating livers, they would adjust their approach.
On a nearby pole, a raven preened its wing, drawing his gaze.
'The rat served me well, but I need something faster, something that can see farther and track the beast's attacks more efficiently.'
Francis slowly climbed the electric pole to avoid detection.
'Just a little closer...'
When he was within striking distance, he extended his tail, and wrapped it around the bird's scaly feet.
The raven shrieked and thrashed its wings, launching skyward and dragging him with it.
'Not good.'
Now he had no choice but to go all out. He began the transition process, his consciousness stretching between bodies.
It felt like pouring water from one container to another, every cell vibrating.
The old rat weakened as the transfer completed, its body slipping from his control and landing with a faint thud on the asphalt below.
Without his will driving it, the creature was nothing more than dead flesh.
'This is... incredible.'
Muscle memory flooded into him as he continued his ascent, guiding the complex coordination of flight—the subtle shifts of wing angles, tail feathers, and body positioning.
Every beat of his wings carried him, and his feathers perfectly concealed his parasitic nature.
He climbed higher, taking in the view.
'This place was bigger than expected.'
A vast metropolis stretched to the horizon in every direction, at least twenty times larger than his home city.
Massive buildings clustered in distinct districts, linked by roads crowded with vehicles. It wasn't a new sight, but the sheer scale of it all impressed him.
Francis curved left, his eyes catching a scene that carried him toward a three-story building.
Judging from the wreckage, this was where the final battle against that dog-like beast had occurred.
Good. He needed information anyway, especially about the capabilities of the so-called "Defense Force."
He landed on a flat rooftop, talons scraping against the concrete, moving carefully to mimic a normal bird.
The same beast he saw earlier lay dead on the road, black blood seeping from dozens of wounds.
That wasn't the only thing that caught his attention.
'It's way bigger now… at least fifteen feet tall,' he mused inwardly.
This meant a category 4 monster had another form—a berserk state they could tap into when their life was in danger.
Such information would prove useful later, as he also needed to be wary of other beasts. He doubted they would be friendly toward him.
'What are those wounds?'
On closer look, he realized the wounds were no ordinary bullet injuries.
They were massive, far larger than anything a rifle should produce, let alone a handgun. The projectiles had torn through hide and muscle like tissue paper.
An individual stepped forward, shouldering what looked like a submachine gun.
It was identical to the ones from his world—except for one key difference: a neon blue light on top of the trigger.
He couldn't help but wonder: 'Is it an energy source that boosts the gun's firepower? How does it work?'
BANG!
A bullet tore through his left wing before he could react.
'Fuck!'
He dropped backward, tumbling on the rooftop floor.
Blood dripped from the torn wing, but his bigger concern was being spotted.