"Still no text?" she wondered to herself as she lay back on the sofa.
The room stayed quiet, except for the sound of the television.
On the screen, the news anchor spoke about the recent event involving Lex Ryzen.
The Defense Force had not confird anything yet. They were still "reviewing the situation" and trying to control the damage.
That made George’s words about the agency backing up the ex-lieutenant feel more real.
But when she picked up her phone, the story changed.
Social dia showed sothing else entirely. Posts were flooding in.
So were ssy. So looked edited. Others were too much to ignore.
Clips were already spreading—short videos of a fight. Lex Ryzen against the Four Horsen.
Her thumb slowed as she scrolled. She didn’t blink as often anymore.
Then she closed the app
Next, she returned to the news. The recent killings were now being reported.
Blurred photos flashed on the screen, but even with the filters, the scene still looked harsh and disturbing.
Still, it did not feel unusual for anyone. Monster attacks often left dozens of bodies behind, so human violence alone no longer carried the sa impact.
"Watching the news is stressing more,"
With nothing to do, she spent the rest of the evening watching drama shows on TV.
Ti passed without her really noticing.
By the ti the clock hit 12:00 a.m., her eyes felt heavy. She finally turned the TV off and sat still for a mont, letting the silence return.
A long shower helped her relax more. The warm water ran over her shoulders, easing the tension she had been holding all day.
Midway through her bath, her hand moved on its own and rested against her stomach.
When she finished, she walked straight to bed and slipped under the blanket without wearing anything.
The room stayed dark and quiet. No sound ca from outside, and nothing else asked for her attention.
Her eyelids grew heavier, and before she knew it, she drifted off.
snap!
Her eyes snapped open, and a wide grin spread across her face.
’She finally fell asleep,’ Francis mused to himself as he controlled her body, slowly making her sit up.
From his vantage point, her ample breasts rose and fell with each breath, the soft glow of her skin almost luminous in the dim light.
While others might have been srized by such a seductive sight, his attention was consud by the chanics of control.
This influence felt nothing like the total domination he wielded over his previous bodies.
This was sothing else entirely—more crude, more demanding. It was like piloting a body through a set of clumsy, invisible controls.
Without his complete concentration, her movents beca awkward and robotic.
Furthermore, he could also not feel anything. Even sight was impossible, so he had to rely on his own parasite eyes to see.
That’s why for the ti being, his control was limited to simple movents.
Luckily, it was already enough to execute the first phase of his plan.
Earlier that day, while she was asleep, he realized he could control her body without fully taking over her nervous system.
Once he made so progress in controlling her, he went out and found a group of thugs in a back alley and dealt with them.
It was a rough experint to test whether consuming their organs could speed up his recovery.
The results were very conclusive. It was working.
Francis adjusted his focus.
Her body moved slowly at first, like it was still waking up.
He guided her legs over the side of the bed, needing to control her bones, muscles, and joints all at once, making the whole ordeal taxing even for him.
Her knees wobbled for a second before locking into place.
’I can’t just get used to this.’
He tested the control again. A step forward. Then another.
The movents were stiff, but not as bad as before. Her walking no longer looked completely wrong, just slightly off if soone who really knew her paid close attention.
Francis moved her toward the walk-in closet.
The door slid open.
Clothes hung neatly inside. He scanned them quickly, picking sothing simple.
A plain jogging suit. Dark color. Nothing loud. Nothing that would draw attention.
’Good enough.’
Her arms lifted under his control. Fingers brushed through fabric, pulling pieces out one by one.
Each motion required focus. Too little effort and her hands slowed or drifted out of place.
He tightened his control.
Shirt first. Then the jacket over it. Simple pants followed.
With her dressed, he checked her posture. She stood straighter now, more natural than before.
’She still looks weird, though,’ he mused, facing the mirror.
Though her face was beautiful, it showed no emotion. He tried making her smile, but it looked too creepy.
Facial control was different. Every expression needed small, exact movents working together at the sa ti. A slight change in one muscle could ruin the whole expression, making it look unnatural or off.
Unlike walking, there was no simple motion to follow. He had to adjust everything constantly.
He dropped the idea for now.
Francis guided her toward the door.
Step by step, she moved forward. This ti, her walking looked smoother, almost normal if seen from a distance.
They left the room and headed out into the night, but as she passed the clerk’s desk, the sa staff greeted them.
"Miss Samantha, are you going sowhere?"
Francis forced her to nod and lower her head. He was careful to maintain his distance from the desk.
The mont they got out of the building, they hailed a cab and spoke in an odd manner.
"Take...... to District 12."
It was a location he already checked earlier while sifting through her phone.
His first victims were too close to this place, so he needed to find a safer location to harvest livers and cure his weakened state.
At the sa ti, this was a good way for him to learn how to better control her body. That way, he would have more options when he got the chance to assassinate Lex.
His priority was still to obtain that God-given talent.
"Are you okay, ma’am?" the driver asked while looking at his rearview mirror.
"I’m fine... I just have a sore throat. Now go."
The cab moved forward, and he briefly released his control to conserve his own energy.
Because he lacked any physical sensation, he had to rely entirely on his parasite eyes to estimate her comfort; he carefully adjusted the angle of her spine and the tilt of her head until her muscles appeared visually relaxed.
Soon, the buildings began to change. The area shifted into an old downtown district, with lower structures, busier roads, and more street vendors along the sidewalks, even at late hours.
When the cab stopped at the side of the road, he made her pay using cash he just found lying around her bedroom.
His reasoning was simple. If cards worked here the sa way as in his old world, the transaction might trigger a notification on her phone.
Cash, on the other hand, was different. It was easily misrembered, especially by people with too much money.
’Now... it’s ti to start the hunt.’
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