"Then… then how do you kill someone?" Ricky gritted his teeth, face twisted in pain, but still managed to ask through clenched jaws.

Ethan didn't answer with words.

In the next instant, he moved.

With a flick of his wrist, a katana shimmered into existence—sleek, deadly, and cold as death itself. Before anyone could blink, he lunged forward, the blade flashing like lightning.

Schlunk!

The steel pierced straight through the young man's chest, slicing clean through his heart.

The guy didn't even have time to react. His body froze, eyes wide in disbelief. His pupils dilated, then dulled, and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

He twitched once. Twice. Then nothing.

A pool of blood spread rapidly beneath him, soaking into the pristine white tiles. The deep red stood out like a grotesque flower blooming across the floor.

Silence.

The room went dead quiet. Not a breath. Not a sound. You could hear a pin drop.

They were just students. None of them had ever seen real violence—let alone a cold-blooded kill.

"AHHH! HE KILLED HIM!"

A few girls screamed, bolting to their feet, scrambling to run.

Even Dorian's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't actually thought the guy would do it.

But Ethan stood there, calm as ever, like he'd just swatted a fly.

"The most efficient way to kill someone," he said casually, "is to pierce the heart. One strike. Instant death."

He turned slightly, eyes scanning the room.

"Another method is severing the neck. Takes a bit more force, but it's just as effective."

Right then, one of the girls sprinted past him, trying to make it to the door.

Ethan didn't even look at her.

He just swung.

Shhhk—

The sound of metal grinding through bone echoed through the room. Her head flew clean off, spinning through the air before landing with a sickening thud.

Her body crumpled, sliding across the floor in the direction she'd been running, leaving a long, red smear behind.

The rest of the group froze in place, paralyzed with terror. No one dared move. No one even breathed.

But Ethan wasn't done.

"If you're dealing with a high-level Awakener," he continued, voice steady, "piercing the heart or cutting off the head might not be enough. The safest method—"

He stepped forward, katana gleaming.

"—is to extract their crystal core."

With a swift upward slash, he drove the blade into another student's skull, twisting it just right. A faint crack sounded as he flicked the blade, and a glowing crystal core popped free, landing in his palm.

He turned to Ricky.

"You get all that?"

Ricky stared, eyes wide, face pale—but not from fear. From focus.

He nodded slowly.

"Yeah… I get it now, Captain."

He'd heard stories before—whispers of murder, of looting, of people vanishing in the night. But this? This was real. Raw. Unfiltered.

Back when Ethan had unleashed the Domain of the Dead during the Black Market raid, it had been too overwhelming—too advanced. Ricky couldn't even process what he was seeing.

But this? This was basic. Brutal. And crystal clear.

"I understand now," he said again, firmer this time. "I really do."

Of the six people who'd been partying just minutes ago, three were already dead—slaughtered in the blink of an eye.

Only Dorian, Lena, and one other girl remained.

They were trembling, huddled together, faces pale as ash. Their minds were breaking, their bodies frozen.

They weren't looking at a man anymore.

They were staring into the eyes of a demon.

A monster in human skin.

And he was smiling.

"You… you can't kill me! I'm from the Hawke family!" Dorian stammered, shrinking back into the couch, his voice trembling. "Whatever you want—just say it! I can get it for you!"

Ethan tilted his head slightly, a devilish smile curling on his lips. "Alright then. Where's the lab your Hawke family uses to develop the Guard Mechs?"

"W-What?" Dorian's eyes went wide. That was the last thing he expected him to ask. "I—I don't know! I swear I don't know!"

"Oh?" Ethan nodded, not angry in the slightest.

He casually tossed Ricky a katana embedded with a crystal core—one of the weapons they'd looted from the Black Market.

"Go practice."

"Yes, Captain!" Ricky caught the blade and immediately lunged at Dorian, aiming straight for his chest.

Schlunk!

"Damn… missed the heart," Ricky muttered, scratching his head, a little embarrassed.

He wasn't as strong as Dorian, and with Dorian instinctively dodging, it wasn't surprising the stab didn't land where it should've.

Ethan wasn't surprised.

"Keep going."

"Got it." Ricky nodded and went back in, stabbing again and again.

Shhk! Shhk! Shhk!

Dorian didn't dare fight back. His body was riddled with wounds, blood pouring from him, soaking the couch in deep crimson.

"Stop! Please, stop! I get it—I was wrong!" he cried out, writhing in agony, his voice cracking.

Ricky's face twisted into a cruel grin. Now who's the joke? he thought. This guy used to laugh at him—now look at him.

And since Ethan hadn't told him to stop, he wasn't about to.

"Guess stabbing the heart's a bit tricky," Ricky said, raising the katana again. "Maybe I should just go for the head instead?"

"No, no, no!" Dorian panicked, waving his hands frantically, eyes wide with terror. "Please! I really don't know anything about the lab! I'm just a branch member of the Hawke family! Only the direct bloodline has access to that kind of classified info!"

"Hm. Makes sense," Ethan mused. The Hawke family was massive—hundreds, maybe thousands of members. If everyone knew the secret, it wouldn't be a secret.

"Do you know anyone from the main bloodline?"

"Yes! Of course I do!" Dorian blurted out, desperate. "My cousin—Trent! He's direct bloodline. He even hit me up for money a while back!"

Ethan nodded slowly, thinking it over.

Trent, huh? That might be the lead he needed.

Dorian saw Ethan go quiet, and his eyes darted nervously. "Look, just let me go, alright? I swear I won't tell anyone about tonight. I'll pretend none of this ever happened."

But Ethan didn't even blink.

He couldn't risk it. His plans couldn't be exposed—not now.

"No loose ends," he said flatly. "Kill him."

"Yes, sir." Ricky didn't hesitate. He raised the katana high and brought it down hard.

Shhhk!

The blade sank deep into Dorian's neck. It didn't sever the head completely, but it tore through his carotid artery.

Blood sprayed like a fountain.

Dorian gurgled once, then slumped over, lifeless.

Now, only Lena and one other girl remained in the room.

They stood frozen, staring at the carnage in disbelief.

He's dead…

Dorian Hawke was actually dead.

Lena's mind reeled. She never imagined they'd actually go through with it—kill someone from the Hawke family. That was suicide. That was declaring war on the entire Inner City.

"You two need to run," Lena said, her voice tight. "Get out of the Inner City. Head for the Exile Zone. It's your only shot at surviving this."

Ricky turned to her, eyes cold. "Spare me the fake sympathy, you ungrateful bitch."

"I…" Lena bit her lip, then said quietly, "I know I hurt you. I admit it. But this—this is the life I wanted. Am I supposed to throw away my future because of our past? If I'd never come to the Inner City… I probably would've married you."

Ricky's hand trembled around the katana. He took a deep breath.

The black aura between his brows thickened, swirling into his eyes, darkening them.

"Then die with that dream."

He swung.

Shhhk!

The blade sliced clean across her throat. Warm blood sprayed across Ricky's face.

He stood there, breathing hard, staring down at the woman he once loved—now lying in a pool of her own blood.

With that one strike, he didn't just kill Lena.

He severed his past.

The rage, the betrayal, the heartbreak—it all poured into him, fusing with his body, changing something deep inside.

Ethan watched him from the side, eyes narrowing slightly.

He could feel it—something inside Ricky was shifting. That dark energy, that potential—it was growing stronger with every kill.

One day, it would erupt.

"Is he about to awaken?"

…

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