"My body suddenly has no strength!" Bell leaned heavily on her threaded cane, panting hard, as if she had reverted to the old lady she was before entering the Dungeon.
"What?" A bad feeling surged in Fanen’s heart.
"I, I feel the sa..." Isha showed a look of sha, and the others also appeared utterly exhausted, hardly able to hold their weapons.
They finally rembered that upon entering the museum, before they could figure out what was happening, they were ambushed by monsters and lost consciousness, enveloped by mbranes secreted by parasites. It seed these mbranes injected toxins into their bodies, causing them to beco so fatigued.
Fanen frowned deeply, watching as people struggled even to walk, taking a deep breath, ultimately deciding firmly.
"You all go first, I’ll hold them off."
"I’ll stay too." Isha showed a worried expression. "Shooting doesn’t take much strength!"
"Bell." Fanen glanced at the old woman, who imdiately grabbed Isha with the burly man beside her, disregarding her struggles, and everyone except Fanen began retreating outside.
Preserving the lives of more people with minimal sacrifice in dangerous situations was a rule established when they were shivering inside the sanctuary before discovering the Dungeon—a rule everyone agreed upon. Now, as the only one still strong enough, Fanen had to stay behind to fend off these monsters.
He rembered that night when he first ca into contact with the Dungeon. That night, facing the attracted parasites, one mber of their team courageously left the group, using themselves as bait to attract the monsters’ attention, giving the others ti to acquire dicine at the clinic.
Now, he was like that person.
Facing likely death, he surprisingly felt an unprecedented calm.
Once everyone had fled the museum and Isha’s cries were no longer heard, he finally exhaled deeply.
"Let’s see what I’ve learned from Father Gascoin these days."
Facing the monsters encircling him from three directions, Fanen took out a Blood Collection Bottle, it was Yusefka’s bottle, but he didn’t inject it into his body. Instead, he crushed the bottle, letting the blood splatter over his arm.
"Sweet blood, it sings to ."
Breathing in the fragrance of blood, Fanen’s eyes gradually beca occupied by beastly instincts, rationality diminished, yet his aura grew more terrifying, as if a beast was trapped inside his body’s prison, eager to be unleashed.
"This is enough to make anyone sick."
Does this phrase sound familiar? Indeed, it’s Father Gascoin’s catchphrase, whenever he slled blood during a battle, he would say these words, and over ti, Fanen learned them.
Fanen had been thinking, was there a way to temporarily enhance his strength in life-and-death situations, and during battles with Father Gascoin, he realized.
Actively letting his ntal state approach that of a beast was a way for a Hunter’s strength to erupt briefly!
He often pondered how he once blocked Father Gascoin’s attack with just one arm. Thinking about it, he realized his emotions were especially heightened back then, losing himself and tapping into latent strength within his body.
Activating beastification in his spirit was undoubtedly the easiest way to maintain a high level of excitent, although the consequences were severe. His level was already high; it’s uncertain if further leveling would stabilize his ntal state or turn him into a complete beast.
But if one wants to achieve breakthroughs in crises, first one must be ruthless to oneself, more so than to the enemy!
The force activated by this thod might not match the previous state, but it was sufficient. That prior state was unattainable.
"Let’s see if you eliminate first, or if I eliminate you..."
Fanen breathed out a turbid gulp of air, with an expression resembling Father Gascoin addicted to hunting.
All three monsters lunged at him simultaneously, and with a roar akin to a true beast, he engaged in savage combat!
The scene was a frenzy of blood, indistinguishable as to who was the beast.
anwhile, the others sought a safe place to hide, thankful there were practically no signs of parasites here, leaving them vulnerably safe for the mont.
"Isha, calm down!" Bell tried to persuade the young girl, but her struggles showed no sign of stopping, instead growing more intense. That’s when they noticed her recovering strength faster than everyone else, nearly uncontrollable!
"If you go back now, you—"
"Shut up, that’s my brother!"
Suddenly, Isha’s small fra burst forth with the strength that a strong man couldn’t hold, breaking free imdiately. As they tried to capture her, the sound of a gunshot halted them in their tracks, as they saw the hole in the ground from the bullet.
"You all go, I’m going back," she said, without turning. "Don’t follow , the people at the sanctuary still need care, you must return."
Saying this, she used her partially restored strength to rush back to the museum.
Bell and the others exchanged glances, her impatience showed as she scratched her gray hair, saying, "Already grown-up, yet still so worriso!"
As Isha returned to the museum, she imdiately slled the intense scent of blood upon approaching the building—a pungent odor only parasites possess.
"Brother?"
She cautiously called, clutching her Hunter’s Pistol, but didn’t hear any fighting sounds.
Entering the museum, illuminated by light streaming through the gaping hole in the ceiling, she saw Fanen standing while surrounding him were charred monster corpses, more than just three.
Isha’s face lit up with joy, just as she was about to rush over, she suddenly saw Fanen raise the Saw at Blade, bringing it down on a monster that wasn’t entirely dead yet.
Blood splattered, and the monster finally went still, but he didn’t stop his arm, resembling a butcher chopping at, endlessly hacking at the monster’s corpse until it ceased to spurt blood. He then madly slashed at surrounding flesh, and as parasites hatched within, he gripped them and crushed them, with a look of enjoynt on his face.
"Brother! Are you okay?"
Stunned by the scene, Isha called out, and Fanen imdiately looked toward her, their gazes aligning.
What terrifying eyes, devoid of human rationality, only left with an addiction to hunting, each bloody vein seeming to symbolize the parasites he’s slain.
Isha instinctively stepped back but stopped, rembering he was her brother. Carefully, she approached Fanen, pulling out a sedative she found in the Dungeon, hoping it could suppress his madness.
"Stay still, brother, just stay right there, I’ll help you regain clarity."
However, Fanen clearly didn’t heed her words and charged directly!
Faced with a forr kin, despite her talent for Gun Counter, Isha’s panic left her unable to find the right mont to shoot, on the verge of being struck by the Saw at Blade!
"Squeak—"
A long spear suddenly appeared between them. Its pristine white shaft was spotless, with a chilling gleam on its tip, indicating it was a rare and excellent weapon.
"Finally see a living person, can you explain what’s happening now?"
A female voice ca from above. Raising her head, Isha saw a girl perched on the spear’s top, her wide robe fluttering in the wind, half her face visible beneath a straw hat with a hint of a smile.
Then she kicked Fanen from one end of the museum to the other!
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