The roar of machinery echoed against the backdrop of crimson flames. Aeshma, arms wide, faced the fully mechanized madman Damocles, transforming the searing heat on her cheeks into pleasure. She signaled her organization’s members, who stood as a wall of flesh, to fall back. At a glance, she seemed a leader protecting her subordinates’ lives. But her purpose and power lay elsewhere—not in duty or obligation, but in offering herself to the reckless giant, Damocles.

  Even if his heat consumed her, stealing her heart and life, that was her desire—a primal instinct her soul screamed for. Standing before Damocles, who sowed death and bathed in blood, Aeshma turned her drenched golden eyes to the electromagnetic claw at her throat, pressing her cheek against his ultra-dense carbon armor.

  “Get out of the way, woman! I’ve got no business with you!” Damocles bellowed.

  “Don’t say that… Why not enjoy this little rendezvous, Damocles, man of recklessness?” she purred.

  “Back off, you filthy crucible whore! You’re not in my notebook—useless trash like you doesn’t get near me!”

  Not in his notebook… Those words meant Aeshma wasn’t a target of Damocles’ revenge. His true aim was Danan alone. As Danan’s muddled consciousness cleared and his melted thoughts regained form, he clutched Tefira with his mechanical arm, leaped from the trash bin, and sprinted in the opposite direction of Damocles—deep into the alley.

  “Wait! Fight me to the death, Danan! DANAAAAN!” Damocles roared.

  Like hell. Spitting the words, Danan swung his sword, Helles, at a man lunging from the alley’s side, severing his head. Spotting ruffians raising guns, he rolled into the shadow of a building.

  “Lils! Enemy positions!” he shouted.

  Static buzzed in his ears. Damocles’ electromagnetic pulses disrupted his mechanical arm’s comms, rendering them useless. Clicking his tongue, Danan gripped Helles’ hilt and raced through his options.

  Fighting Damocles here was a losing battle—he couldn’t even get a foothold. He needed a way to ensure Tefira’s safety, a guarantee. And if Aeshma joined the fray, the outcome was unpredictable. The situation was hopeless. Even if he could survive alone, the mission’s target was a shackle.

  Abandoning her would make him an enemy of one of the three major organizations. The Parade of the Dead’s scale and membership were still unknown—no, their details were deliberately concealed. He could handle enmity with the ruffians or the Crucible, but Danan wasn’t foolish enough to fight an elusive entity. Bullets grazed the wall, ricocheting off his armor with sparks as a building’s window shattered, and three black shadows surrounded him.

  Enemies—!? As Danan raised his sword, the shadows melted into the air, vanishing. A short scream echoed from the alley’s end, and the gunfire ceased.

  “Follow us,” a voice said.

  “Who are you?” Danan demanded.

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  “None of your concern. We’re desperate too—failure means death. If you want to live, follow orders.”

  A gun barrel and a sharp blade pressed against him. Glancing at the pistol at his waist and the knife brushing his neck, Danan swallowed hard, raised his flesh-and-blood left arm, and sighed.

  “…Your safety’s off.”

  “No time for jokes. Move, relic hunter.”

  “…”

  “Walk or run. No opinions needed.”

  “Fine.”

  As he resigned to follow, a voice rang out—a girl’s voice. Don’t worry about me. Take whatever means necessary to eliminate the threat. I trust you, Danan. It was Tefira’s voice, limp in his arms, echoing in his mind like Nephthys.

  Deploying his high-frequency blade, Danan spun, severing both legs of the shadow holding the pistol. Dodging a gleaming knife that grazed his ear, he plunged Helles deep into the shadow’s chest.

  “This guy…!” the shadow gasped, eyes wide with shock.

  A shotgun roared, blasting Danan’s abdomen. Blood gushed, his vision blurring with agony. A normal person would’ve died instantly from the scattershot, succumbing to blood loss or shock. But the Lumina bugs writhing in Danan’s heart sealed and repaired his wounds in an instant. Drenched in blood, his half-destroyed armor clinging to him, Danan’s eyes burned with madness as he picked up the dropped shotgun.

  “Danan,” Nephthys chimed.

  “Nephthys, status—”

  “Unauthorized access detected in the Lumina network. First security layer breached, second defense wall disabled, third offensive barrier breached… Unknown entity hacking neural circuits… Connection established.”

  Static crackled in Nephthys’ mechanical voice, fading. Then, another voice: “Danan! I’ve identified the optimal escape route. Follow my instructions!” It was Tefira.

  “How are you on this line—”

  “No time to explain! More enemies are coming!”

  Enemies? Where— “Get away from the building! Now!” In that instant, cracks spiderwebbed across the building’s wall, and it collapsed.

  “Danan, where do you think you’re going? Let’s play!” Damocles roared.

  “Damocles…!”

  His electromagnetic claw hummed, and his Gatling chain gun spun. The weapons poised to reduce Danan and Tefira to pulp twisted unnaturally, firing in random directions. The claw tore through concrete instead of Danan, and bullets mowed down Crucible members chasing the madman.

  What? What’s happening? Damocles never mistook his target. He relentlessly hunted those he swore to kill, noting even the slightest shame in his revenge ledger. So why was he killing others instead? Bewildered, Danan seized the chance, ignoring Damocles’ roars and sprinting forward.

  “I’ve seized control of the enemy’s weapon systems! That should buy some time!” Tefira’s voice rang.

  “Danan! Who’s this girl I’m hearing? Never heard her before!” Lils shouted.

  “Danan, I recommend following the instructions of the newly registered entity, Tefi,” Nephthys added.

  “Shut up, all of you! You’re too damn loud!” Danan yelled.

  Lils’ voice shook his eardrums, while Tefira and Nephthys echoed in his mind. His thoughts spiraling, Danan bolted from the alley into the crowded main street.

  If he pushed straight through, he could escape the pleasure district. Then, head to the commercial district, where the client would retrieve Tefira. But what was this sickening sensation? Malice stabbed from every direction, a nauseating evil. Catching his breath, Danan scanned the crowd, meeting their gazes.

  Eyes of the dead, consumed by desire, stripped of self. Every passerby stared at Danan and Tefira with beastly, drooling gazes. Their primal ferocity, barely restrained by a thread of reason, resembled trained hunting dogs. The crowd, their eyes burning with sin, parted like a sea as Aeshma walked down the center.

  “It’s not a big deal, really,” Aeshma murmured, stroking a man’s cheek and patting a kneeling woman’s head as if nothing had happened.

  “My eyes were right about you, Black Man. Can I ask a favor?” Approaching Danan, who remained vigilant, she exhaled purple smoke from her pipe, locking her golden eyes with his.

  “That girl is necessary for me… and for everyone. Could you leave her behind? In exchange, I’ll give you whatever you desire. Fair, right?”

  She proposed a seductive deal.