I channeled Flow into the Morphblade, reshaping it into a thick obsidian whip. With a snap, it lashed around the fallen man's torso, binding him tight against the frozen floor. He winced as the whip constricted, but I didn't ease up.
I couldn't afford to.
Despite the brutal beating he'd just taken, the guy still had fight in him. That monstrous stamina was leagues beyond mine. My Flow might be infinite, but my body sure as hell wasn't. Every breath I took felt like dragging gravel through my chest.
Mina wasn't doing much better. Her tiny hands clung to my leg, trembling. Her face was pale, her mana nearly drained dry. Gifted as she was, she was still just a kid with a fragile Mana Pool.
If this dragged on, either of us could collapse.
"Let me go," the man rasped. But there was something off about it—no fury, no desperation. Just… a hollow whisper.
I tilted my head. "Yeah, no thanks."
Then I shook my head firmly. "Not planning on letting you bounce around again. Sorry not sorry."
Mina stepped closer, still clinging to my leg for support. Her body shook with exhaustion, but her eyes stayed focused. Despite everything, she hadn't fallen apart. I'd used her power, her timing, her resolve—and she'd come through.
I felt proud. And guilty.
I glanced down and ruffled her hair. "You did amazing, Mina. You can rest now—"
"I SAID, SET ME FREE!!"
His roar made the walls tremble. I snapped my gaze back to him, my expression instantly darkening. Without a word, I lifted my leg and slammed my foot into his bruised face.
His head jerked to the side, blood spraying from his mouth as he groaned in pain.
"Oh, shut up already!" I snapped back. "What are you, a toddler throwing a tantrum over ice cream?!"
Tsk.
I clicked my tongue in irritation, tightening the whip with a sharp pull. He hissed in pain.
"You owe us an explanation," I said coldly.
His eye twitched. "Huh…?"
I yanked the hilt, making the whip constrict even tighter, the black energy sparking faintly against his skin.
"Talk. What's this nonsense about experiments? What is C.O.M.? And more importantly…"
I knelt beside him, my voice dropping to a whisper that cut like a blade.
"Who the hell is Marloth?"
The moment I said the name Marloth, his eyes went wide—shaking, like a dam about to burst. Beads of sweat broke across his olive-toned skin, trailing down his bruised face in anxious streams.
I blinked. "You're not about to mutter some ancient word and shrivel into a mummy, are you?"
He let out a laugh—dry, humorless, empty. "That… only magic users can do."
Another blink. So he did know about magic?
Well, duh. Of course he did. He was clearly tied to the same psycho club as that mage chick from before. Same twisted energy. Same rotten vibe.
"I was almost there, you know," he muttered, looking up at me. "If you hadn't barged in like some divine punishment, I would've severed ties with those damned C.O.M. bastards."
My brows furrowed.
That… didn't sound like your typical I 'm-an-evil-minion-here-to-die-screaming-for-my-lord kind of line.
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"
He just shook his head slowly, gaze distant, defeated. "Doesn't matter, does it?"
Then, with a weary sigh, he added, "I'm sorry. I can't tell you anything anyway."
I yanked the whip's hilt, dragging him closer, my voice sharper now. "That's not for you to decide—"
And that's when I noticed it.
His mouth. His lips. Crimson spirals danced over them like living tattoos. They pulsed faintly, sinister and deep, crawling with cursed intent.
I cursed under my breath. "Tongue Curse…"
He chuckled again, this time with a bit of admiration in his tone. "You really know your way around spells."
I Gritted my teeth. "So it is a curse, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Speak a word of classified info to anyone, and boom—my head's gone."
I hissed, the frustration boiling in my gut. "Tch… Dammit!"
All that effort. All that blood, sweat, screaming, fighting, flying boulders, ghouls, and Flow-bending madness—and this idiot had a self-destruction curse the whole time?!
We'd fought for nearly a day straight, and it ended in a wall of silence and curses.
I clenched my fist so hard the hilt trembled in my grip.
…Damn it all.
I shot him a skeptical look. "Then how exactly were you planning to cut ties with them? That curse in your mouth—you're practically their pet. They can yank your leash whenever they want."
"…That—"
"Indeed, she raises an excellent point, Chris Everhart."
The new voice wasn't loud. It was calm—too calm. Smooth like silk, but carried a smug sharpness that crawled under my skin. It silenced the entire room. Even Chris stiffened, every muscle in his body tensing.
Soft, deliberate footsteps echoed through the fractured chamber.
I narrowed my eyes, tracing the sound to the far end of the room—through the massive rupture we had carved out mid-battle.
He stepped into view with the poise of someone who never had to run in his life. Crisp white suit, a black tie lying perfectly flat. Shined black shoes clicked neatly on the stone floor. His black hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place, and his brown eyes were… distant. Detached. As if we were insects in a cage.
In his arms, nestled against his chest, was a small cat. Black and white fur. Fast asleep. But it wasn't ordinary. Not even close.
My eyes widened.
That cat… it had Flow. But more than that—it shared the exact same Flow Signature as the man holding it.
Two separate beings. One Flow signature. That… wasn't supposed to be possible.
Chris's face went pale.
He whispered a single name—barely audible, like it was forbidden to even think it aloud. "Karim…"
So this guy was a superior.
Karim stopped a few meters away, unbothered by the tension crackling around us. "Ah," he said softly. "I must apologize. Where are my manners?"
He gave a shallow, almost performative bow.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Mina Shlimm… and Lina Lapis."
I flinched. My hand tightened around the Morphblade.
"How do you know my name?" I asked, voice low.
His smile didn't waver. "Forgive me if I startled you. One of our Scanners—Astolf—caught wind of your awakening. He's quite… sensitive to Flow. So much so that, well—" he paused, chuckling softly, "—he vomited almost instantly after sensing yours. A rather vulgar reaction, but telling. Your Flow is... oppressively potent."
Astolf. That name rang a bell. I'd heard it before. Yeah, from Oliver. But still—detecting me from afar was one thing. Knowing my name?
These C.O.M. people weren't just organized. They were deeply embedded.
"So then," Karim continued, voice still smooth, gaze fixed now on the trembling man at my feet. "Tell us, Chris. Have you, perhaps, figured out how to sever your ties with us?"
Chris didn't answer.
He just kept shaking, eyes locked to the ground, shoulders hunched like a scolded dog. My whip remained coiled tight around him, a reminder of who'd won this fight. But judging by his expression… it wasn't me he feared now.
Karim wasn't finished.
"Must I remind you," he said, tilting his head slightly, "why you're doing all of this?"
Chris gave a frantic shake of his head. "N-No… Please… I remember…"
"Shall I speak her name then?" Karim's tone lowered, yet somehow it felt sharper than ever. "Layla."
"PLEASE!" Chris cried out, voice cracking as he bowed his head so hard it nearly smacked the floor. His entire body trembled, as if the name itself was a curse.
What in the actual hell… Was this really the same guy who nearly killed me an hour ago? The same beast whose fists could shatter stone?
Karim turned to me. "Excuse me, Dear Lina."
My eyes flicked to him before I could stop myself. Something about the way he said it… soft, polite, rehearsed like a formal dance.
He smiled gently. "I realize it's quite a lot to ask, but would you mind… releasing Chris?"
I stared at him.
He continued, without pause. "As you can see, he's quite injured. It would be best if he received treatment and proper rest before resuming his assigned missions."
My eyes narrowed.
"You and that Oliver guy," I muttered, "you both talk like you're serving tea at a funeral. Sickeningly polite, like your words are dipped in honey or something."
Karim let out a quiet, amused breath—almost a laugh. "Ah, yes. You met Oliver recently, didn't you? He mentioned your encounter in his report. Along with the Sponsor of Experience."
His gaze flicked around the broken room. "But… I don't see him here with you. Might I ask where the Sponsor is?"
What kind of question was that? Like I'd hand him that information on a silver platter.
I smirked. "Relax, you're safe. He's not here. Only I'm stuck with the babysitting today."
Karim actually… sighed. Disappointment?
"That's good to hear," he said with a hint of genuine charm. "Though I admit, his absence worries me more. If he's not here, perhaps he's off gathering reinforcements."
That line. The calm way he said it—that unnerved me.
He wasn't afraid of Lou. Not really. Either he was bluffing hard… or he was strong enough to hold his own against a damn Sponsor. My gut twisted.
Karim took a single step closer.
"I'm sorry to press, but you still haven't answered me," he said, his tone never once breaking its collected rhythm. "Would you be so kind as to release Chris?"
And then he stopped.
His eyes moved past me—downward.
To Mina.
She stood slightly behind me, both hands extended forward. Frost shimmered at her fingertips, the air around her crackling with icy tension. A protective instinct made manifest.
A quiet warning: One wrong move, and she'd strike.
Karim met her glare… and smiled.
"Oh my," he said with mock surprise. "A spell ready from the Princess herself. How delightfully impressive."
"Well," Karim said softly, almost apologetically, "since your answer seems to be no… I suppose I'll have to handle it myself."
He gently raised both arms. The small cat slipped from his grasp and dropped to the floor with a near-silent thud.
Except… it wasn't silent.
No sound echoed—but the atmosphere changed. Something unseen pressed down on us, a weight that made even breathing feel like a chore.
"I apologize in advance," he said.
And then—
Meowwwwwww.
The cat's eyes snapped open. White slits gleamed against its black-and-white fur—and the ground quaked violently beneath us.
"What the—?!" I barely kept my footing.
That meow? It triggered this?
"Mina! Fire it now!" I shouted, snapping to the only chance we had.
She didn't speak—but I could hear it. The surge of Mana igniting around her. The hum. The build-up. The blue glow blazing in her palms—
But just as she released the spell, the floor beneath us exploded.
Stone and earth shot upward. The trajectory of her magic was thrown off—her spell blasted the ceiling instead in a cascade of shattered light.
And then came the hands.
Three monstrous limbs—dark as pitch, each with six jagged fingers—tore out from the ruptured floor like roots of some ancient nightmare.
One of them snatched Chris with ease, cradling his grown body like he was no heavier than a toddler.
Another wrapped around Mina. Her scream cut through the chaos as she tried to summon another spell, but the grip was too tight.
I barely avoided the third hand—lunging sideways, sliding through debris—but Chris was gone.
"Tch… no matter."
I reshaped the Morphblade into a long, jagged scythe, and in a blink, I was upon Karim. He stood there, completely still—hands calmly clasped behind his back.
Wide open.
This is your mistake, I thought as I brought the scythe down toward his exposed neck.
And then—
Meowwwwwwwwwwwwww.
A second, drawn-out meow rang out—and suddenly, something flickered at his chest.
From within the folds of Karim's pristine coat, a small creature tumbled out. Blue fur, round ears—maybe a hamster? No… too many eyes. Way too many.
And just before my blade could touch him, something invisible collided with it.
CLANG!
I was thrown backward. My scythe spun out of my grip.
"What the hell was that?" I coughed, dazed. "A barrier? No—someone else hit it? Who?"
But no one else had moved.
And then it hit me.
All of them… The cat. The multi-eyed creature. Even the hands erupting from the earth...
They all had the same Flow signature.
Karim's.
I gritted my teeth, struggling against the massive hand now gripping my torso.
"Bruh…"
It wasn't just his technique. It wasn't just strength.
It was how everything—every beast, every summon—was his. All of them bound to him by Flow.
"You're a…" I narrowed my eyes, "…Beast-Master?"
Karim finally looked up at us—Mina, Chris, and I, all suspended like broken dolls—and smiled gently.
"I am indeed a Beast-Master," he said. "But I believe I'm… slightly different from the others."
His gaze shifted to the mewling cat beside his feet, still glowing faintly.
"But there's no need to dwell on that now."
This guy…
Everything about him was pissing me off.
The way he snatched me up in less than a second. The way Chris looked like a kicked puppy in his presence. That stupidly calm voice. His smug little cat.
It all made me want to scream.
"Jeez… You really are a chatterbox, huh?" I muttered, trying to wriggle out of the hand gripping me.
Karim chuckled—soft and composed, like a polite aristocrat trying not to spill tea at a funeral.
"I do apologize if I've managed to irritate you, dear Lina," he said with that damnably pleasant tone.
Then he lifted a hand in a graceful gesture. "So how about this… May I offer you a little game between the two of us? As an apology, of course."
I blinked, brow twitching. A game? In the middle of this?
"You got Monopoly?" I said dryly.
He actually laughed at that, covering his mouth with a single gloved hand like I'd told the most adorable joke.
"Oh my, you do have a sharp tongue," he said. "But sadly, no. What I have in mind isn't quite as civilized as Monopoly."
I rolled my eyes. Yup. Grade-A certified chatterbox.
Still, he wasn't finished.
"Let's make it interesting," he said, eyes sparkling now. "I'll answer one of your burning questions right now—no tricks, no evasions. But only if you agree to play along."
I tensed. My gaze locked onto his.
He was calm. Steady. His posture, his breathing—he wasn't bluffing.
He'd really answer one of my questions… just like that?
"And," he added, "I'll give you the answer before we begin."
My head snapped toward him, the offer ringing alarm bells in every corner of my brain.
Way too generous.
Which meant—whatever game he had in mind?
It was going to be hell.
But I didn't have a choice. I was already caught in this oversized demon-hand, running on fumes after battling Chris and those Ghouls. Mina wasn't doing much better—her face was pale, lips trembling, barely suppressing the pain in her eyes.
Damn it.
I grit my teeth, and gave in.
"What the hell do you want?" I growled. "I'll play your silly game."
Karim's eyes lit up like a kid who just got extra dessert.
He clapped once, the sound far too crisp in this broken, nightmare-torn chamber.
"Wonderful! That is truly delightful to hear, dear Lina," he said, beaming like we'd just signed a contract of friendship.
"Rest assured… I'll make it worth your while."