Chapter 47: Chilling News
Several hours later.
The news spread throughout Cold Moon District like wildfire.
No.
Faster than wildfire.
Because the people spreading it weren’t ordinary civilians.
They were hunters.
Military officers.
Government officials.
Individuals with influence.
Individuals whose words carried weight.
The B-rank dungeon had been cleared.
At first, nobody believed it.
Then the second piece of information surfaced.
The President himself had confirmed it.
The disbelief only deepened.
A dungeon that had trapped the nation’s strongest hunters for weeks had suddenly been cleared in a single day.
It sounded absurd.
Impossible.
Then came the third piece of information.
The Butcher had entered the dungeon.
Silence followed.
An eerie silence.
As though everyone had subconsciously reached the same conclusion.
The Butcher had done it.
...
Later on...
Inside the government headquarters.
A tense atmosphere hung over the conference room.
Dozens of officials sat around a massive table.
Nobody spoke.
The President sat at the head of the room.
His fingers tapped lightly against the polished surface.
The room remained silent.
Finally.
One of the ministers couldn’t endure it any longer.
"You actually intend to pass down his message?"
The President slowly turned toward him.
The minister swallowed.
Despite being a government official, he still felt pressure beneath that gaze.
"He openly threatened the entire district."
The President remained calm.
"No."
The minister frowned.
"He didn’t."
Several confused expressions appeared throughout the room.
The President slowly leaned back.
His eyes drifted toward the ceiling.
Toward memories of the battle.
Toward the moment reality itself had split apart.
Toward the moment an A-rank existence had been erased.
Then he spoke.
"He made a promise."
Silence descended.
Nobody knew how to respond.
Because they understood exactly what he meant.
A threat implied uncertainty.
The Butcher’s words hadn’t carried uncertainty.
Only certainty.
The conference room grew increasingly quiet.
Eventually.
The President rose to his feet.
"The meeting is over."
Nobody objected.
Nobody dared.
...
Meanwhile.
Elsewhere.
Night had arrived.
Cold Moon District glowed beneath a sea of artificial lights.
Roads stretched endlessly through the city like rivers of gold.
Countless buildings stood illuminated against the darkness.
Yet none of it held Amon’s attention.
He stood atop the highest skyscraper in the district.
Silent.
Motionless.
The wind swept across the rooftop.
His long black leather jacket fluttered behind him, snapping softly in the night air.
Moon stood several meters away.
The white robes swayed gently in the wind.
The city carried on below.
Unaware.
Peaceful.
Calm.
The calmest it had ever been since Amon came to this world.
Amon’s gaze swept across the endless lights.
The district was changing.
The hunters were changing.
The government was changing.
The fear of the Butcher was spreading.
Not fear of dungeon monsters.
Fear of him.
A faint smile appeared beneath the Butcher’s Mask.
Fear was useful.
Far more useful than laws.
Far more useful than warnings.
People ignored warnings.
They ignored laws.
But fear?
Fear changed behavior.
Suddenly.
A familiar notification appeared before him.
[Ding! Congratulations! You have levelled up!]
[Ding! Congratulations! You have levelled up!]
[Ding! Congratulations! You have levelled up!]
Several additional notifications followed.
The experience from the dungeon had finally finished calculating.
Amon’s eyes flickered slightly.
The system panel appeared before him.
[Master: Amon Moonstone.]
[Level 38: 8922/38000]
[Talent: Danger Sense (A-rank) {+1}]
[Abilities: Close Yet So Far (SSS-Rank) {+2}]
[Skills: Flame Sword (C-rank) {+1}, Swift Dagger (F-rank) {+1}.]
[Techniques: Elegant Netherblade Sword Technique (Divine Rank) {+5}.]
[Equipments: World Key Fragment {+???}, Ataroth Mask {+???}, Winter Frost Blade {+5}, Bloodline Evolution Crystal {+1}.]
[Fate Points: 1]
...
[Clone: Moon]
[Level 27: 420/27000]
[Talent: None]
[Skills: Spatial Teleportation (A-rank) {+1}, Damage Amplification (A-rank) {+1}.]
[Techniques: Heaven Extinguishing Swordsmanship (Incomplete Divine) {+3}]
[Equipments: Narlock Robes {+1}]
His gaze swept across the numbers.
A faint smile appeared beneath the mask.
He was stronger.
Much stronger.
The difference wasn’t small.
Every increase in level now felt dramatic.
Especially after stepping into the realm occupied by S-rank existences.
Amon slowly clenched his fist.
The air around it distorted faintly.
His physical strength alone had become absurd.
The dragon from earlier appeared in his thoughts.
An A-rank monster.
And yet...
He didn’t even need the Sixth Form now.
The realization caused his eyes to narrow slightly.
The Elegant Netherblade Sword Technique was far more terrifying than he had originally imagined.
Just how powerful would the later forms become?
One had to know that he still hadn’t used the Eighth or Ninth Forms.
’Would they be capable of destroying the world?’
And what would happen when he upgraded it with five fate points?
Would it gain more forms or evolve into something even more monstrous than he could imagine?
The thought lingered briefly before fading away.
There would be time for that later.
For now.
Something else demanded his attention.
A cold glint appeared in his eyes.
The Divine Infant Organization.
For weeks they had remained hidden.
Watching.
Plotting.
Moving through the shadows.
Yet they had touched something they never should have touched.
His family.
The rooftop suddenly seemed colder.
Moon immediately appeared beside him.
Silent.
Waiting for his next order.
As a B-rank hunter, he could already be considered the second strongest within Cold Moon District, standing directly beneath Amon.
Amon looked toward the distant horizon.
His gaze seemed capable of piercing through the entire city.
The night wind howled across the rooftop.
The leather jacket fluttered.
The Butcher’s Mask stared into the darkness.
And for the first time since clearing the dungeon.
A killing intent slowly emerged, spreading throughout the city like an invisible tide.
Silent.
Unstoppable.
Not explosive.
Not violent.
Just calm.
Cold.
Steady.
The kind of killing intent that appeared only after a decision had already been made.
The Divine Infant Organization had survived until now because Amon wasn’t confident enough to handle them.
That was no longer the case.
His fingers lightly tapped the hilt of the Winter Frost Blade.
The sword trembled faintly.
Almost eagerly.
Amon took a step forward.
Then stopped.
A familiar figure had appeared below the skyscraper.
Joy.
She stood beside a government vehicle.
Her gaze fixed on the rooftop.
Fixed on him.
Even from this distance.
Amon could see the determination in her eyes.
A faint smile appeared beneath the mask.
Interesting.
It seemed she still hadn’t given up.
The city lights reflected within her eyes.
The wind continued to blow.
And somewhere in the darkness beyond the district.
A hidden organization unknowingly stood at the edge of destruction.
Tomorrow would mark the end of the Divine Infant Organization.
For now...
Amon’s mind drifted back to his family.
"Wait for me at the warehouse. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."
Moon gave no response.
The Monarch of Death simply disappeared.
Space rippled faintly as his figure faded from existence.
With a thought, Close Yet So Far was activated.
Amon vanished.
The rooftop became empty once more.
Moments later, he appeared back at home.
The Butcher’s Mask and clothes had long since vanished into his system space.
Standing before the door, a faint smile appeared on his face.
There was nothing like home.
Amon looked as though he hadn’t just destroyed every dungeon within Cold Moon District and passed down a divine decree.
Now.
He seemed like nothing more than an ordinary father returning home after a long day.
And that was the most terrifying aspect of the Butcher.
He was a loving father by day.
But a monstrosity by night.
