Chapter 58: The Monster’s Identity

Chapter 58: The Monster’s IdentityChapter 58

The Next Morning – Serenya

The morning sun cast golden rays across the rooftops of Serenya, bathing the quiet city in warmth. Han stirred awake, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Another day, another routine.

He rose from his bed, stretched his limbs, and got to work. First came preparing breakfast for his younger siblings—toast, eggs, and the last bit of jam they had left. He cleaned up the small apartment, made sure everyone was fed and ready, then took a quick shower himself before heading out.

And then came the daily grind.

Ten thousand push-ups. Ten thousand sit-ups. Ten thousand squats. Followed by three full laps around the entire city of Serenya.

Ever since Han evolved his body into a Superhuman physique, these once grueling tasks had become strangely effortless. His muscles no longer ached,his breathing stayed steady, and even the longest run barely made him sweat. The daily quests, once a brutal challenge, now felt like a warm-up. An invisible threshold had been crossed, and he was beginning to understand just how far his body had changed.

After finishing his last lap, Han arrived at the Tryst Guild—the bustling heart of elite combatants in Serenya.

But the moment he stepped through the large doors, he could tell something was off.

The air was thick with tension.

Guild members had all gathered, forming a loose semicircle around the sparring ring. Their attention was locked forward, not even glancing his way. Han followed their gaze.



And there they were.

Ronan, standing still as a statue, his face unreadable and blank as always. Twin blades strapped across his back gleamed faintly under the light.

Opposite him stood Aiden—blond hair slightly tousled, lips curled into a playful grin. His eyes, however, were sharp with excitement.

A spar was about to begin.

Aiden’s voice broke the silence. "Ready to get your ass handed to you, pretty boy?" he teased, cracking his knuckles as he eyed Ronan.

Ronan didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He simply stared back, expressionless.

"Let’s just get this over with," he said flatly.

He had already fought Han and experienced the vast gap in their strength—now, he wanted to see how he measured up against Aiden.

Aiden grinned wider, rolling his neck. "Alright, alright. You asked for it. Just don’t call this bullying later."

He raised a hand, and his voice turned serious.

"Morph."

Unlike before, Aiden’s transformation now showed only three distinct beast traits.

His skin thickened into a hardened brown hide, two sharp white spikes jutted from his shoulders, and dual blades extended from his knuckles. His legs became long and lean—clearly adapted from a high-speed beast.

"Ready?" the guild referee asked.

"Set—Fight!"

Aiden shot forward like a cannon, his mutated legs giving him explosive momentum. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between him and Ronan, throwing a devastating punch. Ronan barely dodged, countering immediately—only for Aiden’s shoulder spikes to shift and deflect the attack as if alive.

Ronan leapt back, switching stances. One sword angled behind his back, the other raised forward in an almost dance-like posture.

"Is he... trying to dance?" a guild member asked, confused.

"I don’t know," another replied, "but that stance looks ridiculous."

Aiden smirked. "Didn’t know you were into ballet, pretty boy."

Ronan exhaled slowly. There was no humor in his blank face.

This is Master’s best sword style, he thought. It’s no joke.

"Dancing Sword Art: Ten-Splitting Strike."

Ronan surged forward. His front blade slashed at Aiden—only for the attack to seemingly split into multiple strikes in an instant, one of them catching Aiden off-guard and slashing across his chest. Aiden staggered back, eyes wide. He hadn’t even seen what hit him.

From the side, Han observed silently. His Analyzer Eye had allowed him to witness the technique in full detail. Reproducing that... would take me hours. Maybe days. The complexity of the move spoke volumes about Ronan’s level.

Ronan pointed one blade forward. "Done? Or do you want more?"

Aiden wiped the blood from his lip, grinning. "I didn’t want to hurt you, but now... I’m going all out."

Dark wings burst from Aiden’s back. His features twisted—fangs extended from his mouth, and his eyes gleamed. He took to the air, now moving faster than ever.

Ronan tried the Ten-Splitting Strike again, but Aiden deflected it mid-flight, hurling Ronan across the arena. He landed, skidding backward but keeping his balance.

Ronan’s stance changed subtly, his body lower, his energy sharper.

"Dancing Sword Art: Twenty-Splitting Strike."

He lunged again. The attacks were faster, more unpredictable. Aiden parried with difficulty. Then came Thirty, then Forty-Splitting Strike. At that point, they were evenly matched. Their blows rang through the training hall, leaving everyone breathless.

"Who is this guy...?" someone whispered.


"Is he secretly an A-ranker?"

"Maybe even higher?"

Han stood silently behind the crowd, shaking his head. Fools. They have no idea.



Ronan still has no official skills. He’d once considered transferring some of his extra ones to Ronan—but that changed yesterday, the day he gave Ronan a system.

Three things stood out from the transfer:

First, unlike Han or Aiden—both of whom screamed in agony during their integration—Ronan barely flinched. He simply closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. That level of mental endurance... it surpassed theirs entirely.

Second, the sheer amount of CP required to integrate the system into Ronan nearly gave Han a heart attack. Aiden’s system had required a good amount—but Ronan’s? It was like comparing a droplet to an ocean.

But the third... was the most terrifying.

The moment the system integrated, its entire structure mutated. It became something new—something deadly.

The Evo-Kill System.

It was simple... terrifyingly simple.

The more Ronan kills, the more he evolves.

Han clenched his jaw as the thought echoed in his mind. He’s a freak. A damn freak. Not in a bad way—no, it was something far worse. Ronan was unpredictable. Dangerous. A wild card in every possible sense.

Han had considered giving him a skill or two. Maybe something basic—like a flame technique. But then he imagined it... what if that flame didn’t stay as fire? What if it evolved into something far deadlier? Something like Destruction Flame—a hypothetical ability that could reduce cities to ash with a flicker.

The risk wasn’t just high—it was catastrophic. Giving Ronan a skill now would be like handing a toddler a loaded weapon and hoping for the best.

No... not yet.

---

The battle had ended not long after.

Ronan had fought well. Incredibly well, considering his lack of skills and his freshly acquired system. But it wasn’t enough. Aiden still won.

Barely.

Han watched silently as Ronan collapsed, breathing hard, bruised but not broken. Aiden hadn’t even tapped into his Dark Essence Mode. If he had, the battle would’ve been over far sooner.

Ronan’s still weaker than us, Han thought. But give him time... and he’ll catch up. Maybe even surpass us.

That thought lingered in his chest like a cold weight.

Just then, Han’s communicator buzzed. A message. From Clara.

"Meet me at the lone lab. Urgent."

He glanced back at Aiden and Ronan, both recovering, too tired to accompany him. With a quiet sigh, he turned and left the guild alone.

---

Clara’s lab was buried on the edge of the sector—quiet, distant, and secured from prying eyes. It wasn’t like her to call for meetings here unless it was something serious. And Clara never wasted time. She didn’t loiter or lounge. Her bots were always busy, her mind constantly processing something.

Which is why it struck him as odd when he entered her office... and found her sitting still, a deep frown etched across her face.

She didn’t even look up.

"What’s wrong?" Han asked, closing the door behind him as he took a seat.

Clara leaned back, folding her arms. "I’ve got good news and bad news."

Han exhaled through his nose. "You always do this."

"Yeah, well, that’s research for you."

"Fine. Let’s hear the good news first."

Clara pulled up a screen. A file opened, displaying a blurred face, redacted data, and a chilling image of a battlefield. "I managed to track the exterminator we saw in Ronan memories. The one who killed his family and burned his city."

Han’s eyes narrowed. "And?"

"He’s still alive."

Han sat straighter. That was more than good news—that was everything. Ronan’s vengeance. The source of his trauma. The monster from his past.



"That’s huge," he said. "We can help him get closure... or justice."

Clara’s lips twisted. "Yeah. But that brings me to the bad news."

Clara’s frown deepened.

"The monster... I mean the man... he’s not just anyone. He goes by the name Buster now."

She paused.

And the worst part..." Clara’s voice dropped, tension thick in the air. "He’s not just an awakener."

She looked Han dead in the eye.

"He’s a Hero."

A long pause followed.

"And not just any Hero..." she continued, her tone grave.

"A Class S Hero."

To be continued...