The Executor's massive axe slices through the air with the sinister whistle of a giant guillotine. Han-Jun does not close his eyes. He no longer has eyelids to tremble, nor a heart to race. At the exact moment the rusted metal was about to crush his skull and scatter his remains across the asphalt, an explosion of pure darkness erupts from his pores.
[ BING ! ]
[ SKILL ACTIVATED: SHADOW SKIN (RANK F - EVOLVABLE) ]
[ EFFECT: PHYSICAL DAMAGE ABSORPTION +30% / NECROTIC RESISTANCE ]
[ CURRENT XP: 0/1000 ]
VLAN !
The blade slams into Han-Jun's body with the force of a freight train. But instead of cutting him clean in two, it sinks into a black, viscous, and immaterial substance that seems to devour the impact. The ground beneath his feet cracks for three meters, the concrete pulverized by the residual pressure, yet Han-Jun remains standing. His body is no longer entirely solid; a dense, oily, and freezing smoke envelops his limbs, solidifying his skin where the blow landed.
The Executor, surprised by this abnormal resistance, attempts to pull back its weapon, but the Shadow Skin clings to the metal like a hungry leech.
— "My turn," Han-Jun growls, his voice layered with an echo from beyond the grave that seems to resonate directly within the monster's skull.
Taking advantage of the axe being momentarily stuck in the asphalt and the darkness, Han-Jun climbs up the handle, that rough telegraph pole. His speed has doubled. His movements are no longer hindered by physical pain, but guided by a predatory instinct born of the Abyss.
[ WARNING: CRITICAL ENERGY CONSUMPTION ]
[ ENERGY REMAINING: 12% ]
[ TIME REMAINING BEFORE DISSIPATION: 15 SECONDS ]
Every second counts. He lunges, his weightlifting spear charged with an unstable, crackling black aura pointed forward. He doesn't aim for the overall armor this time. He aims for the narrow, smoking breach he opened earlier, where the metal is twisted, revealing the entity's grey, spongy flesh.
SHLACK !
The steel tip drives deep, sinking fifty centimeters into the corrupted tissue. A thick, hot, black liquid sprays onto his face, consuming his sallow skin in acrid smoke. The Executor lets out a seismic roar that shatters the windows of nearby cars and twists the metal structures of the bus shelters.
GHRRRRRRRR !
The monster drops its axe and seizes Han-Jun with its bare hand, its fingers of metal and flesh closing around the student's torso. It squeezes to crush him, to reduce this anomaly to dust. The Shadow Skin sizzles violently under the colossal pressure, fighting to maintain the cohesion of the host's body.
KRAK !
Han-Jun feels his ribs give way one after another despite the magical protection. A cold agony radiates through his entire being. But he does not let go of his spear. On the contrary, he pushes against the hand crushing him to drive it deeper, twisting the metal in the wound with methodical rage. His fingers sink into the monster's flesh. He finally reaches it: the Core. A sphere of crimson crystal pulsing like a dying star.
— "Die... a second time!"
With a sharp jerk, he releases all the dark energy stored in his system through the steel bar.
BOUM !
An explosion of crimson light and black flames tears through the Executor's chest from the inside. The Core shatters into crystalline shards, sending shockwaves that sweep away the rain and dust. The giant freezes instantly, its massive arm falling limp. The grip loosens, releasing Han-Jun, who crashes heavily to the ground in a pool of water and black blood.
FROUISH...
The immense carcass of metal and flesh begins to disintegrate. This is no ordinary death; the body transforms into a rain of golden ashes and fragments of ethereal data. A torrent of light suddenly rushes into Han-Jun's body, stitching back his torn tissues and re-welding his bones in a din of sinister clicks.
[ RANK B TARGET ELIMINATED ]
[ XP RECEIVED: +450 ]
[ LEVEL REACHED: LEVEL 5 ]
[ ALL STATISTICS INCREASED ]
[ REWARD: EXECUTOR'S SWORD (MINIATURE) ADDED TO INVENTORY ]
[ NEW MISSION: SURVIVE THE FIRST WAVE ]
Han-Jun remains lying on his back, panting, as the Shadow Skin slowly dissipates into swirls of smoke. His left arm still hangs uselessly, but the System's regeneration is already at work. He looks up at the crimson rift tearing through the Tokyo sky. It isn't shrinking. On the contrary, it is widening, and smaller, more agile, yet just as lethal shapes are beginning to descend by the thousands, like drops of venom falling upon the city.
CLAC !
The sound of light, rapid footsteps echoes at the entrance of the street. Han-Jun turns his head with effort, expecting to see a new horror. But what he sees freezes him. It is a young woman in a school uniform, her hair drenched by the rain. She holds a kendo sword with both hands, her knuckles white under the pressure. Her eyes are fixed on the spot where the Executor vanished, where the last golden ashes fade into the mud.
— "Did you... did you kill it alone?" she asks, her voice trembling, wavering between dread and disbelief.
Han-Jun does not answer immediately. He activates his Gaze of the Abyss. The world turns grey, except for the girl. She radiates a blue aura—pure, but terribly fragile. An aura of the living. She is not like him. She still has a beating heart, a warmth that he lost forever in this alleyway.
On the horizon, a nuclear alert siren begins to wail its funeral song. A mournful, continuous sound announcing to the metropolis that the world order has just collapsed.
— "Get out of here," Han-Jun finally breathes, rising with a frightening slowness. His bones snap back into place with the sound of dry wood breaking. "Don't stay in open areas."
She takes a step back, terrified by Han-Jun's spectral appearance, his eyes still two wells of absolute void.
— "But... who are you?"
SKRIIIIII !
The shrill cry of the Void Crawlers answers her question. Dozens of them are perched on the roofs of the surrounding skyscrapers, their red eyes fixed on the only source of human warmth in this dead end: the girl.
Han-Jun picks up his reinforced spear. He is not a hero. He is an undead. But the System gives him a new directive, and his own remaining fragment of humanity dictates his next move.
— "I am the one preventing this world from fading away," he murmurs to himself.
To be continued.