The finest craftsman of Hantmann West Dome's handmade lasgun fired two bright beams of light. Two beams shot out nearly simultaneously, piercing precisely through the eyes of an Ogryn.
"Damn it, the kid's spotted us!"
The guide shouted toward the tallest of the Ogryns—at least a head taller than the rest, who was smart enough to count to five, earning him the nickname "Smart Head."
"Charge! Kill him, or we're all dead!"
"Smart Head" swung his massive club and roared.
"SMASH!"
"MEAT!"
All the Ogryns excitedly echoed with cries of "Smash" and "Meat!"—and another massive brute fell dead.
Ogryns have large strides; a few steps for them is a sprint for an average person. When charging at full speed, they resemble humanoid tanks in a siege.
But they were no match for Nareth's bullets. Terrain, distance, the Ogryns' speed and size, all these variables were processed in his mind, forming a combat model in an instant.
Two Ogryns lunged forward, only to be met with four precise lasgun beams, piercing through them like they had thrown themselves into the light.
"Smart Head" reacted quickly, using his left arm to shield his eyes while zigzagging in an S-shaped pattern as he ran.
Sure enough, he wasn't hit.
But the two guides had already lost their confidence. Nareth's marksmanship was too terrifying.
They had heard from the well-informed arbiters that injuries lethal to ordinary humans wouldn't even faze an Ogryn. Their thick hides made laser shots nothing more than superficial wounds, barely able to cause a blood hole. That's why Dimitrov was so confident.
Yet Nareth's every shot struck the Ogryns' most vulnerable spot—their eyes.
Whether ambushed while standing still or charging at full speed, the result was the same.
Remembering Nareth's kill count over the twenty work cycles, the guides' courage shattered. They turned and fled.
"Cowards!"
The captain of Estupiñán's Guard Squad glanced at them with contempt. He was filled with resentment; his master hadn't trusted them and instead brought in these brainless Ogryns, reducing the guards to mere support.
'Intelligence! Discipline! These are the true essence of combat!'
The captain barked an order: "Open fire!"
Twenty elite guards unleashed a hail of bullets toward Nareth.
Yet in the next moment, the two fleeing men's heads exploded, their corpses slumping to the ground.
The captain's eyes widened. The kid had dodged their barrage while simultaneously gunning down the deserters.
He quickly ducked behind an abandoned machine bed.
Crack!
A guard turned at the sudden silence, only to see his captain's skull split open, eyes wide in death—before darkness claimed him too.
By the time "Smart Head" reached the passage entrance, everyone behind him was dead—but he didn't notice or care.
All he could think about was smashing the boy and eating meat afterward.
Seeing the boy draw a chainsword and wait at the tunnel's mouth, "Smart Head" swung his club down hard.
Boom
With a loud crash, the club hit the wall above the tunnel.
Nareth had baited the strike, using the environment to his advantage. The moment the Ogryn's attack was obstructed, he lunged—the roaring chainsword carving into the brute's thigh.
"ARGH! HURTS!"
The Ogryn howled as nearly a quarter of his thigh was torn away, bone now visible.
"SMASH YOU!"
This time, "Smart Head" aimed better. His club missed the wall but hit a metal pipe in the tunnel, leaving a massive dent.
Nareth moved skillfully around the Ogryn, using the tight passage to his advantage. "Smart Head" was as tall as the tunnel itself; swinging his club became increasingly awkward.
Each swing of the chainsword carved deeper into the Ogryn's legs, linking wounds together.
THUD!
With a thunderous crash, "Smart Head" collapsed, only then realizing his legs were gone.
"Get two teams, one to carry him back, one to guard."
"Remember, don't damage his arms."
"Yes, boss!"
Two teams quickly arrived at the passage. Up close, the half-dead Ogryn's sheer bulk was staggering—even the best-fed among them were dwarfed four or five times over.
Once the main ingredient was hauled away, Nareth gestured to Bukayo, who was staring at him in awe.
"Lead the way."
"Yes, boss!"
Bukayo puffed out his chest and marched ahead.
The group advanced until dense spiderwebs filled their path. Bukayo lowered his voice.
"Boss, we're less than a kilometer from the abandoned dome where the Spider's Nest is. We're already in its hunting range."
Nareth nodded slightly. His enhanced senses pierced through the webs, locking onto the lurking monstrosity.
"Burn it."
Ten gang members hurled their Molotovs forward.
Dozens of bottles enhanced with promethium ignited into a raging fire. The webs melted like wax, vanishing rapidly.
A disfigured, charred corpse dropped to the ground.
The smoke stung the men's eyes. They hastily donned respirators. When their vision cleared, the horror before them became apparent.
The ground was littered with shattered bones—not a single one intact.
Bukayo swallowed hard. "Boss, during scouting, I once saw the Black Widow feeding."
It's over twenty meters tall. Its lung sacs—each the size of three or four grown men."
"When it inhales and exhales, the sound is piercing and dizzying. If the wind hits you, your bones can shatter—you fall, helpless, just waiting for death."
Nareth glanced at Bukayo. The boy had witnessed such terror yet remained composed potential indeed.
His gaze returned forward. The Black Widow was nearing.
"Spread out and attack. Avoid the lung sacs."
"Yes, boss!"
The rat-catcher teams dispersed, taking cover behind ruined machinery.
A massive shadow loomed above, crawling along the ceiling. Its pulsating lung sac hung mere meters above the ground.
One rat-catcher's hand trembled, his finger slipped on the trigger.
The stray shot struck the lung sac.
Nareth's eyes narrowed, but the bullet ricocheted off, the sac merely quivering.
'As expected of a Sequence 8 potion's main ingredient—far tougher than ordinary lungs.'
The Lung Spider's fourteen eyes gleamed coldly. Its sac expanded—a hurricane-force inhale
Just as it prepared to unleash its deadly breath
CRACK!
A lasbeam speared through one of its eyes.
The other materials were already gathered. He didn't need the spider alive—just its lung sac.
The spider's remaining thirteen eyes locked onto the youth below.
The moment their gazes met, its body shuddered. Instinct screamed that this boy was deadlier than all the others combined.
BOOM!
The tunnel shook as if struck by artillery. Bukayo and the others barely kept their footing as the shockwave obliterated cover into shrapnel.
"BOSS!"
Bukayo's heart clenched. Since fleeing to the underhive, he'd struggled to survive—one meal for every three days of starvation.
Then Nareth had changed that. Life was still hard, but at least he ate.
If the boss died, the gang would fracture. He couldn't go back to that hell.
Then
A searing beam cut through the darkness, and the spider's next eye burst.
'He's alive!'
Shot after shot flashed. By the time the smoke cleared, the Black Widow was blind.
It inhaled deeply, unleashing shockwaves in desperation.
"Aim for its legs!"
Nareth's command snapped them into action. Gunfire riddled the spider's limbs.
The blinded beast thrashed wildly, claiming four rat-catchers before finally collapsing.
Nareth sawed off the lung sac, ordering four men to carry it back to Magnitogorsk Steelworks Foundry.
Without delay, he began brewing the "Barbarian" potion.
He tossed spine crystals into the Vosvoth inside furnace, which erupted in blinding light. The added Mittal steel then quickly melted.
When the spider lung was added, the furnace roared.
'I hope it doesn't explode...'
thought, though his hands moved swiftly, tossing in Smart Head's arms next.
The roaring ceased. A dazzling black light burst forth.
Once it faded, he scooped out a black gel-like substance.
The blend was perfect, no residue left in the furnace.
Nareth tilted his head back and drank the Sequence 8 "Barbarian" potion.