The thin man suddenly reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a tiny glass vial. The bottle shimred slightly, filled with a strange crimson liquid that seed to glow faintly. Without a word or warning, he uncorked it and downed its contents in one gulp. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, then he gritted his teeth and crushed the bottle in his fist, shards falling to the floor.
Liam narrowed his eyes, watching silently.
Then it began.
The transformation hit the man like a wave of electricity. His eyes were the first to change—shifting into a deep, glowing red that pulsed like coals in a furnace. Veins bulged from his face, stretching unnaturally, and his bones cracked loudly as his body began to grow. Flesh tore and reshaped. Muscles inflated. His spine extended and shifted, his posture hunching as dark, bristled fur exploded across his skin.
His clothes tore apart as his fra expanded far beyond a normal man’s build. Seven feet tall, his arms were thick as tree trunks, ending in massive clawed hands. His face elongated into a snout, fangs gleaming with saliva. He looked down on Liam, red eyes filled with unnatural malice and pride.
A fucking werewolf.
Liam blinked once and then slowly grinned.
He knew Crimson Hand had been quiet—too quiet. Now it made sense. They’d been working on sothing under the radar, and this... this beast... was proof. His heart began to pound—not from fear, but excitent.
The beast snarled and lunged forward with terrifying speed, claws slashing through the air. He moved fast. His strength was nothing to joke about. The ground cracked under his feet with each step.
But Liam was faster.
With a calm step to the side, he avoided the first swipe by a hair’s breadth, his eyes studying the motion like a scientist watching a test subject. The beast growled and spun again, claws ripping the air. Liam stepped back once more, weaving out of range.
Then he moved in.
He leaned forward, muscles tightening as he channeled all his strength. Aether surged through his body, his veins glowing faintly for a second. With a deep grunt, he slamd a devastating punch directly into the beast’s chest.
The impact sounded like thunder.
The werewolf’s body was lifted off the ground, flying backward like a missile. He smashed through the base’s concrete wall, then another, until he finally got stuck halfway into the third, his body twitching in pain. Cracks spiderwebbed along the wall from the point of impact. The fur vanished. His limbs shrunk. Within seconds, the beast was no longer a beast—just a broken man in shredded clothing.
His body dropped from the wall and collapsed on the floor in a crumpled, limp heap.
[Ding!] [You have defeated a Lesser Wolf] [All stats 5]
Liam’s system chid calmly in his head, and the blue holographic panel opened in front of him.
[System Interface – Liam Carter]
[Level: 4]
[Strength: 197 / 1000]
[Agility: 193 / 1000]
[Endurance: 149 / 1000]
[Intelligence: 149 / 1000]
[Current Skills]
Gun Mastery – Level 3
Dragon Step – Level 2
Feather Shards – Fire feathers like razor-sharp projectiles (Level 1)
Gale Wings – Massive wing flaps that create shockwaves (Level 1)
Liam stared at the stat increase and gave a quiet chuckle. "So that counted? Interesting."
He muttered to himself. "The system usually doesn’t reward for killing humans..."
He thought back to the vampires he had taken out—not a single ding or bonus had co from those. But this? A werewolf? That triggered the system. So the difference must be biological. These weren’t humans... not anymore.
"Exogens... huh," he whispered. Those vampires weren’t exogens, they were more of supernatural.
Liam closed the system window and looked at the mangled body. Crimson Hand had definitely crossed a line. And now, it was ti for Liam to return the favor.
He walked slowly through the gaping hole left behind by the werewolf’s body as it had rocketed through walls like a cannonball. Debris crumbled at his feet, dust still hanging in the air like fog. The building groaned around him, unstable and half-collapsed, but he paid no mind to any of it. His cold, unreadable gaze was locked on the figure slumped at the far end—now returned to a pathetic, broken human state.
The man was sprawled face-down in a heap of rubble, blood leaking from his mouth and chest. Liam approached him calmly, not with the urgency of a hunter, but the silent intent of an executioner. He didn’t hurry. He didn’t need to.
When he finally reached the man, he crouched, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him upward with one hand. The man coughed violently, red splattering across his chin. Liam didn’t flinch. He simply turned and slamd the man’s back into the cracked wall behind him, pinning him in place. The impact rattled the wall.
The man groaned, head lolling, his strength rapidly draining. But Liam wasn’t done.
He tilted his head to the side, his voice a razor blade coated in mockery. "What happened? You can’t talk? Where’s that furry form of yours? Where’s the monster?"
The man’s only answer was more blood. It bubbled from his mouth as he tried to speak, but nothing coherent ca out.
Liam’s expression darkened with amusent. "Oh, now you’re shy? Weren’t so quiet when you were snarling and clawing like a rabid mutt."
He leaned in closer, eyes sharp as knives, and whispered low enough that only the dying man could hear. "Nobody touches my woman."
Then he let go.
The body collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, thudding against the floor in a useless, twitching ss. Liam stared at him for a second longer, then turned around and began walking away.
His boots crunched over shattered tiles and scattered glass. Blood dripped from the wall. The stench of smoke and death hung heavy in the air.
Just before he reached the destroyed threshold of the compound, Liam paused. He didn’t turn all the way around. He only tilted his head slightly, just enough to let his final words reach the man who might not live long enough to repeat them.
"And yeah... tell your boss I said hi."
Then he vanished into the smoke, his silhouette fading between the torn walls and ruined halls. Behind him, nothing remained but corpses, rubble, and the slow, gurgling breaths of a man who had faced a demon and barely survived.
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