Chapter 81 - CH: 79: Special Gift Pack

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{Chapter: 79: Special Gift Pack}

It wasn't just saliva. The droplet was molten flame, laced with infernal energy, and the moment it touched the man's body, he ignited. There was no time for screaming—his entire form turned to cinders, and then powder, carried away by a cruel breeze.

Dex stretched with feline ease, ignoring the ashes at his feet.

He didn't care that dozens of other creatures had watched the encounter from the shadows. In fact, he wanted them to see. He wanted them to feel the message burning in their chests: prey has no future.

—

Dex moved like a shadow with intent—smooth, predatory, and impossibly graceful. His smile was magnetic, seductive even, in the way fire seduces moths. There was no remorse in his eyes. Only thrill.

In the Abyss, weakness wasn't a disadvantage.

It was a death sentence.

That poor bastard had come crawling out of a massacre with puppy-dog eyes and soft trembles, like a stray looking for scraps. In a world like this, such an expression wasn't just pitiful—it was dangerous. It was a beacon. It screamed: "I'm vulnerable. Come devour me."

And the Abyss always answers such calls.

If Dex hadn't taken him out, something far worse would have. The scavengers watching from the dark, drooling and hungry, would have descended with blades and claws, stripping him to the bone.

In this place, mercy wasn't kindness.

It was cruelty disguised as hope.

There is no need to be timid or cowardly. Only the tenacious and cruelest beings are worthy of surviving here. Any creature that is not strong enough in mind will be the prey here. No matter how strong it is, in the eyes of other predators, it will only be a larger piece of meat.

No matter how big and strong a cow is, there will always be jackals trying to bite it, even if they know clearly that the jackals can easily kill them.

Herbivorous animals may be able to use their strength and size to intimidate carnivorous predators, but they can never suppress the greed in their hearts.

One of the most important reasons why no one dared challenge Dex in these lands.

It wasn't just his strength—it was his aura. Every step he took radiated power, like a volcano barely restrained. Just standing near him made other creatures sweat and flinch. He didn't walk through the Abyss—he owned the ground beneath him.

The blood on him was old and new, some of it his, most of it not.

He didn't try to hide the danger. On the contrary, he let it simmer just beneath the surface, like an invitation to test him. A few brave—or stupid—souls had tried before.

None tried twice.

Even now, creatures hidden behind stone pillars and crumbled walls gripped their weapons, their muscles tense. When Dex turned his gaze, sharp as a blade, their knees buckled.

It was instinct. Predator.

His temperament or aura. No matter who sees him, they can instantly judge that Dex is a predator.

It's obvious at first glance that he's a dangerous target who might attack at any time!

This was also the reason why the human team drew their weapons and became alert when Dex only glanced at them.

He grinned again, knowing exactly what they saw: something untouchable. Something unkillable. Something that flirted with death every second… and made it look good.

Even a fleeting glance from him felt like a signal—a silent, invisible blade drawn across the throat of anyone foolish enough to test him.

The weaker hunters lurking in the shadows, those scavengers who prowled the Abyss hoping to ambush the lost, the desperate, or the injured, had originally set their sights on the injured human Dex had casually incinerated. They had been circling like vultures, whispering, elbowing each other, forming and breaking temporary alliances, even fighting among themselves to decide who would have the honor of tearing into that easy piece of prey first.

But that was before he arrived.

Dex didn't need to roar, brandish his strength, or cast a single spell. His presence alone was like the lowering of a great executioner's blade. Though he had blatantly taken the spoils from under their noses—an action that should've sparked a chaotic bloodbath—none of them moved a muscle. They stood there, frozen in place, pretending not to care, pretending not to have ever wanted that prize in the first place. They stared at the red dust on the ground, at each other, anywhere but at him.

Because they knew. Every last one of them knew.

Dex wasn't like them. He wasn't merely a predator. He was an apex predator. One of those rare, terrifying beings who could kill with a look, whose hunger never dulled, and whose whims were deadlier than most blades.

In the Abyss—a place that had long since chewed up words like "mercy" and spat them into the void—the hierarchy of power was absolute. Predators instinctively bowed to stronger predators, not out of respect, but survival. It was an iron rule etched into their bones.

And that was why when Dex turned away, utterly uninterested in acknowledging their presence, they all exhaled as one. A silent, trembling breath.

When he left, they did too—each pretending they had never been there, walking off in separate directions, their faces blank, their instincts urging them to vanish before the monster changed his mind. The only thing left behind was a pile of fine ash that the breeze quickly scattered like the memory of a forgotten dream.

---

A Few Days Later

A strange, dimly lit hotel sat nestled between two collapsed ruins, surrounded by the low hum of demonic energy and distant screams. It was a place that didn't follow architecture so much as defy it—a jumbled, Escher-like clash of styles from at least three different worlds, with stairs that led nowhere and hallways that looped back into themselves.

Inside, Dex lounged on a velvet-lined bench in a private suite decorated in bizarre, alien opulence. The walls were draped with crimson cloth patterned with golden eyes that occasionally blinked. From the ceiling hung lanterns filled with gently swirling will-o'-wisps, casting eerie shadows that danced like spirits on the walls.

In front of him, an iron grill sizzled. Slabs of some unidentifiable meat—scored, seasoned, and oozing strange violet juices—crackled above the flame. The aroma was both mouth watering and slightly nauseating, depending on who was inhaling.

Dex leaned forward, tore off a piece of meat with clawed fingers, and casually popped it into his mouth.

"Hmm~ It tastes really good," he murmured with satisfaction, licking the juices from his thumb. "Better than the last place, that's for sure."

The woman resting against his shoulder leaned in, her fingers elegant and slow as she plucked a slice of meat. She was deliberate in her movements, graceful in a way that seemed trained. She placed the meat delicately between her lips and chewed, her slitted eyes narrowing with amusement.

"It is indeed delicious," she agreed in a low, silky voice. "Even the fat melts cleanly on the tongue."

She was a Naga—a lower demon by classification, but there was nothing 'low' about her appearance.

Her upper body was the epitome of lethal beauty: pale green skin kissed with shimmering scales, a bust that strained against the edges of her tight golden armor, and hair the color of seafoam that curled like tendrils down her back. Her face was high-cheekboned, with a wicked smile that promised both pleasure and poison.

Below the waist, her body became a sleek, serpentine coil that glimmered with emerald and obsidian scales, long and powerful enough to crush a lesser demon. She was elegance and threat coiled together, and tonight she belonged to him.

Dex didn't particularly care for classifications like "race" or "species." As someone who danced between human and demon aesthetics with ease, he didn't bat an eye at monster girls. He'd seen stranger.

In fact he like monster girls as long as they were human and beautiful enough.

And in this case, she had come to him, all coiled charm and barely veiled seduction. Who was he to refuse? Especially when the wine was good, the meat was rich, and the beds were warm.

Ever since he'd slain Trina with his own hands—a moment that had torn out whatever softness he'd once harbored—Dex had stopped complicating intimacy with things like emotion or responsibility. These days, he viewed companionship the same way he viewed dinner: satisfying, temporary, and not something you felt guilty about discarding when you were done.

He has become more open-minded about this kind of thing. Since he doesn't have a private car for the time being, taking the bus is also a good option. Anyway, he doesn't have to take responsibility.

He hadn't asked her name. He didn't need to. She hadn't offered it, and he hadn't cared to remember it even if she had.

She, on the other hand, was far more invested.

Every glance she gave him was calculating, every touch carefully choreographed to maximize affection and submission. She wrapped herself around him like a pet hoping for adoption, her serpent's body coiling lazily around his chair, brushing his leg every now and then.

She knew full well that she wasn't strong. A lower demon like her couldn't afford luxuries like this on her own. The grilled meat in front of her, imported from a high-tier infernal beast, cost more than what she earned in a year. But beside Dex, she could taste it. Beside Dex, she could pretend—for a little while—that she was someone powerful too.

And Dex… was generous. In his way.

He let her stay. He let her eat. He let her curl up beside him at night, pressing her soft skin against the furnace of his body, as if that heat could somehow become her own.

She was larger than him in raw physical scale, yes—but in presence? In aura? Dex eclipsed her utterly. He didn't need to dominate her with brute force. He simply was. And that was enough.

She looked up at him now, trying to gauge his mood, her voice coy. "Are you still bored, my lord?"

Dex yawned, leaning back into the plush cushions, his fingers lazily running along the curve of her tail. "A little. Everything's too easy lately. No real challenge. No spice."

A devilish grin curved his lips.

"It's probably time I stirred up some trouble somewhere else. Maybe another world. I heard the upper realms are calling lately…"

The Naga's smile faltered slightly at that. Travel to other worlds meant chaos, death, and power games far above her level. But she said nothing. She simply poured him another glass of wine and nestled closer.

Dex downed the drink in one gulp and let the empty cup fall to the floor with a dull clink.

"Yeah," he murmured, staring at the flickering shadows.

"It's time for some real entertainment."

*****

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