Outside the cave's sanctuary, the wailing wind caressed the tree branches in a quiet, funeral symphony. Inside, however, a world was simultaneously collapsing and being rebuilt. Harten stood tall, casting a gaze as cold as ice upon the lifeless body before him. For seconds, a deathly silence reigned before his knees betrayed him and he collapsed, erupting into a scream that tore through the stillness:
"Damn it... damn it! What have I done? And why? I killed her for no reason!"
It was a deafening roar, piercing the air yet lacking direction—a noise without a goal. The thread of his thoughts snapped at the sound of a familiar voice emanating from the corridors of his mind. "Ahmed" materialized before him—the weak, spineless boy Harten thought he had buried long ago. The phantom stood trembling, pointing an accusing finger:
"You... you! Why are you lying? Are you truly a monster? Or just a cold-hearted fool?"
Harten slowly raised his head, looking at the specter of his past with indifference. "What do you mean? I'm lying? I am expressing my regret... my guilt... isn't that the right word?" He said this while shielding his face behind his palms.
Little Ahmed trembled, shaking his head in revulsion and dread, then cried out in a choked voice: "How dare you claim to feel guilt while you scream with that insane smile plastered on your face?!"
Harten froze. He touched his lips with his fingertips, only to find a cunning, sharp, and terrifyingly happy smile had taken up residence there. He didn't believe it until he looked into the pool of blood that was slowly widening; he saw his reflection in the liquid crimson—a demon smiling at himself in ecstasy.
"Oh... I really am smiling," he muttered with chilling calm.
Little Ahmed burst into tears. "See? You're a lying bastard! Why did you pretend, then?"
Harten answered as he contemplated the blood of his victim, "Perhaps to imitate the heroes of 'Manhwa' and stories... I wanted to test myself—am I still capable of feeling that thing called 'regret'? But it turned out to be nonsense. I felt nothing but refreshment... Yes, I am happy. Is this the taste of happiness? It is incredibly delicious."
Little Ahmed's jaw dropped in horror. "You're a cursed monster... just a clown faking humanity!"
"Shut up!" Harten snapped, his features clouded by dark shadows. "Rationality? I am far more rational than you will ever be. As for humanity, I have no need for it in this hell. And that pathetic play you saw... one of the reasons for it was to summon you."
Ahmed recoiled with stumbling steps. "Summon me? I'm just a fracture in your mind!"
"I know you're a part of me, but you're the part that represents my cursed weakness. I thought I left you at that rope nine years ago, but your remains still pollute my mind. I wanted to tell you one thing: I am not the hero of a story following the principles of good and evil... I am simply a person who will do anything for his own interest."
"Your interest?" Ahmed screamed. "What interest is there in killing an innocent soul in cold blood?"
Harten let out a mocking exhale, glancing at the cave ceiling. "How naive you are... My interest in killing her was that she was an 'obstacle.' An obstacle tying me to fake human emotions, just as you are an obstacle representing my old weakness. You'll say now: How can you abandon your humanity? You're sick... you're deranged... bla bla bla... that fancy talk that belongs in cartoons. But in reality, little one, there is no place for anyone but the strong. And remember... I am the monster that eats monsters."
With utter brutality, Harten tightened his grip on the girl's head and ripped the ivory horn from her skull with raw force. Blood splattered into every corner, and Harten offered a faint smile that would freeze the blood in anyone's veins. He looked at Little Ahmed, who began to fade away, shedding tears of terror.
"Farewell... human."
The specter vanished, and Harten sighed deeply. "Finally... my mind is clear. But I should have asked him before he left: Why do I even want revenge? Do I respect 'Joe' that much that I'd risk my life? No. Then why?"
He paused for a moment, then continued, "Revenge is merely the fuel to become stronger. I will kill them before they kill me; they want what I possess. Yes... I will continue to lie to myself, for that is what I excel at."
He looked at the stained ivory horn, dipping it into the pool of blood until it was completely dyed crimson, then wrapped a silk thread around it. He turned toward his most precious possession: the second capsule. Without hesitation, he reached for it, and memories of "Joe" flooded back—how he had involuntarily consumed him.
"Damn... you tasted terrible, you old bastard."
He injected himself with the strange substance without a second thought. Harten collapsed instantly onto the cave floor, losing consciousness for seconds... minutes... perhaps days. Then, a hysterical laugh echoed throughout the cave: "Hahaha... Yes! I feel it... The Power!"
Harten rose, his bulging muscles exploding with unnatural strength, his veins pulsing like diesel engines. His scars and wounds vanished completely, as if he had been reborn in the womb of pain. He looked at the forest through the cave opening, wearing the pelt of a great lion that extended from his back to its mane, surrounding his neck like a royal collar.
"Farewell."
Harten said it coldly, then delivered a single, devastating blow to the cave's main pillar. The ceiling collapsed, shattering into pieces, burying three things beneath its rubble: the girl's body, the memory of Joe, and what remained of the weak "Ahmed."
The grave was ready, and the monster had gone out to hunt.