97. The Soul Returns to Midian

The bloody, dim lair.

The Stone family was collectively stunned by the snake-haired man’s profound discourse, their eyes shimmering with longing and a sense of belonging.

"So we are Nightbreed!"

Dean noticed that the investigation progress had stalled at seventy percent. Realizing it was time, he quietly retreated behind the five "family members," his gaze scanning their unguarded vitals with chilling intent.

He reached into his coat, gripping the cold metal of the firearm in his shoulder holster.

No one noticed.

He raised his gun and aimed at the back of Layton’s head.

...

"Remember, young man, we will all return to Midian in the future!"

"And I, Westhaven, am but one of the weakest among the countless Nightbreed of Midian."

The snake-haired man’s final words fell.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets tore through the air. Sparks flickered.

Four piercing gunshots rang out abruptly in the enclosed secret chamber.

The air stilled for an instant.

Immediately following came the sound of four heavy bodies thudding to the ground in rapid succession.

Layton, Shannon, Pelen, and Heiderson—the family of four, four hunters—collapsed onto the filthy floor covered in bones, excrement, and rotting flesh, large holes blown into the backs of their heads. They fell without a word, their faces still frozen in expressions of awe from the moment before death.

Only Christine, on the far left, turned her head the moment she heard the shots. She saw her brother, expressionless, firing his weapon; she saw her fallen kin, the muzzle flashes, and the billowing white smoke.

"No!"

The woman let out a heart-wrenching wail.

Dean pulled the trigger coldly, blowing her head apart.

A spray of blood erupted from her beautiful face as she toppled backward. Her red lips were slightly parted, and her wide, azure eyes held a residue of despair, pain, and confusion at being betrayed by her own kin!

But she would never get an answer. She was dead.

...

"You have killed Layton Stone, Shannon, Pelen, Heiderson, Christine... Proficiency +5*5. Marksmanship lv2 (4→29/300)..."

The sudden slaughter drew to a halt in the blink of an eye.

Standing atop the pile of bones, the snake-haired man was stunned by the cruel turn of events for a second before his figure blurred, launching a death charge toward Dean.

Terrifying pressure and a foul, fishy gale rushed toward him.

But Dean’s expression remained unchanged. With his Ghost Armor protecting his body, he calmly gripped his gun with both hands and pulled the trigger repeatedly.

Bang! Bang!

From a distance of only ten meters, both bullets struck the snake-haired man square in the face.

It didn't dodge at all, or perhaps it disdained to. After being hit, its momentum didn't falter in the slightest. Like a charging rhinoceros, it slammed into Dean, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying through the air into the deep, dark corridor.

"You... damn you!"

A hoarse, somber voice echoed repeatedly in the corridor, causing the ceiling to tremble.

The snake-haired man casually plucked the two bullets embedded in its cheek and frontal bones. Its mane of snakes seemed to come alive, burrowing frantically into the skin of its face. The entire face flushed and swelled, becoming inhuman.

"I will tear you limb from limb!"

Roaring with a hiss, it gave chase.

...

The Ghost Armor absorbed most of the impact for Dean; the remaining force failed to cause any injury.

The moment he landed, he braced himself with both hands. The muscles and fascia beneath his suit rippled violently, and he propelled his body up, sprinting out of the corridor.

Those two probing shots had made him realize the gap in strength. The snake-haired man’s bones were harder than steel plate; fighting this thing in a narrow room and corridor was unwise.

He had to create favorable conditions and change the battlefield.

He ran through the darkness, his breath coming in short gasps.

A question from earlier surfaced in his mind.

A luxurious mansion, yet all four walls were sealed against the sun.

But the Stone family of cannibals did not fear sunlight.

Yet the snake-haired man called itself Nightbreed!

...

Thinking of this, Dean quickened his pace, sprinting toward the bedroom at the end of the corridor.

There was a boarded-up window there!

Exploding with full agility and strength, Dean used his hands and feet, moving like a hunting leopard at full gallop, his speed so great he left faint afterimages.

Tap-tap-tap!

But the footsteps of his pursuer behind him were drawing closer, the pressure of death following like a shadow.

...

At one point, in the narrow corridor, the distance between the pursuer and the pursued closed to twenty meters. The "Shadow" on Dean's shoulder suddenly flew backward toward the hideous snake-haired man. The moment it made contact, it transformed into a swirling mist, drilling into the monster's nose and throat, choking its breathing passages!

It shifted form, attacking the fragile respiratory organs within its body!

The snake-haired man felt a intense sensation of suffocation and piercing pain. Its charging figure halted abruptly. As its chest heaved, a flicker of surprise flashed in its almond-shaped vertical pupils.

Then, clutching its chest and throat, it opened its maw wide!

Roar!

The earth-shaking roar caused dust and gravel to rain from the ceiling, and the murals on the walls seemed to writhe as if alive.

The invisible sound waves turned into blades, shredding the "Shadow" at the center into a thousand pieces.

In just two seconds, the "Shadow's" translucent form, now significantly faded, wobbled as it flew out of the target's body and drifted away.

The suffocation vanished, and the snake-haired man continued its pursuit. It burst out of the dark corridor and into the dimly lit bedroom.

A glance revealed that Gru Stone, the ruthless killer who had just slaughtered five of his family, was no longer running.

He stood by the wall on the left, watching it quietly.

His azure eyes narrowed into slits, radiating a playful light. His lips curled into a mocking arc, and his handsome face was filled with disdain.

"Come on, you cannibal mongrel!"

"A traitor cast out from home."

"A piece of trash who has a home but cannot return."

"A maggot hiding in a filthy corner, merely lingering on."

"I will send you to hell with my own hands!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Dean swapped his magazine and pulled the trigger continuously. Bullets struck the snake-haired man’s arms, crossed in front of its chest like a shield, bursting into showers of sparks.

"Hell cannot hold me, and heaven will not accept you. We are both monsters; I have come to help you find release." The snake-haired man brushed the bullets from its skin, red light erupting from its eyes. With a wave of its hand, sharp bone spurs on its wrists aimed at Dean, and it charged.

*Swish—*

The short distance of five or six meters was covered in less than half a breath.

Before the charge, Dean had already lowered his body and dove to the right.

A flash of red light passed before his eyes, and a foul wind swept past him.

Then, a chill hit his back; his suit was torn, and a wound resembling an infant's mouth appeared on his latissimus dorsi.

*Swish—*

The snake-haired man shook the blood droplets from its bone spurs and turned with lightning speed. Bone spurs on its elbows, wrists, knees, and ankles writhed beneath its skin, all rotating in unison. Their gleaming, razor-sharp tips pointed at Dean on the ground. Its massive body, like a small mountain, pressed down toward him.

Amidst a crisp clanging sound, the "Shadow" shattered the wooden boards covering the window behind the snake-haired man.

Wood splinters and shards of crystal glass exploded outward, turning the window into a massive hole connecting to the outside!

The sunlight from outside shone in, dispersing the gloom and evil, spilling onto the snake-haired man’s reddened back!

"Ugh-ah!"

A scream of agonizing pain tore through the air.

The snake-haired man’s attack froze in mid-air. Its body curled in agony, emitting puffs of acrid blue smoke as if melting under high heat, releasing the thick, charred smell of burnt meat.

Gritting his teeth, Dean threw himself into the creature's arms, hugging its waist with all his might and driving it backward toward the open window.

He was desperate to pull it into the sunlight, out the hole!

Glass shards refracted the sunlight, igniting the dense snake-hair behind the monster's head.

Amidst the cyan flames, the burning serpents twisted and withered frantically.

Severely wounded, the snake-haired man launched a frantic counterattack.

With whistling sounds, it stabbed, elbowed, and kneed Dean. The bone spurs on its limbs erupted with a terrifying lethality that far surpassed firearms, causing the Ghost Armor to fade rapidly.

But Dean held onto its waist tightly, refusing to let go.

The scorching sun continued to bake them.

The snake-haired man’s arm ignited in flames, chunks of skin cracking, and its back, bathed in sunlight, was burned to charcoal.

It was filled with extreme rage and fear.

It grabbed Dean’s shoulders and flung him aside. The massive strength born of a life-or-death struggle finally threw the parasite off. Dean hit the wardrobe and slid to the floor, vomiting a mouthful of blood.

The monster stumbled toward the safe secret chamber in the corridor.

Murderous intent filled its heart.

Go back, heal, and wait for the sun to set before coming out to kill this treacherous hyena!

To chew him until only bone fragments remained.

Hope for survival was right in front of it.

*Bang!*

A dull thud!

Its pupils constricted.

The stone door before it closed to the left without a breeze.

*Click, click!*

The telekinetic force pushing the door simultaneously engaged two massive iron locks.

And the keys had long since been dropped on the corpses of the Layton couple in the room.

...

Hope turned into despair.

The snake-haired man turned around, angry and weak, only to see Dean hunched over, holding the teardrop-shaped planchette in a reverse grip like a dagger!

Their eyes met, and sparks flew.

Come on!

Either you die, or I die!

...

Dean took the initiative and charged toward the corner of the bedroom where the snake-haired man was hiding.

He jumped onto the bed, leaped up, and twisted in mid-air. His right arm flashed like lightning, swinging diagonally, the planchette in his palm stabbing toward the snake-haired man’s right temple with momentum.

It was like a gymnastics move.

His superhuman agility allowed him to complete the action cleanly and beautifully.

But the latter’s reaction was incredibly fast. It swung its right hand to parry, the bone spur on its wrist colliding with the planchette with the sound of clashing metal. Dean used the force to land and roll to the side. After rising, his heart was set.

The snake-haired man’s strength and speed were greatly diminished compared to before, barely higher than his own.

The injuries from the sunlight were still rapidly worsening!

He had no time to think.

The snake-haired man crossed its arms, and the bone spurs on its wrists and elbows rubbed together, creating cross-shaped red light.

It seemed to have four arms, wielding two pairs of double blades.

It slashed and stabbed at Dean’s body with lightning speed. Its two-meter height, long reach, and long legs gave it an astonishing attack range, and every fierce strike exuded a plague-like stench.

There were few corners left in the bedroom that the sunlight hadn't reached.

It didn't have much room to maneuver.

And Dean’s smaller, 1.8-meter frame became an advantage.

Activating his fighting skills, he expertly dodged, rolled, and twisted in the cramped space, leaping onto the violet-wood bed to create distance, alternating between defense and counterattack—targeting the snake-haired man’s crotch, temples, neck, and armpits.

He was vicious and precise.

Like a young, strong hyena constantly raiding a dying, aged lion.

Metal clanged as sparks flew where bone spurs and the planchette collided.

The two figures constantly crossed and separated, shaking loose sweat, hair, and flesh onto the floor.

The double bed in the middle was unknowingly dismantled into a pile of rotten wood by the swinging bone spurs, and the floor was riddled with large holes.

The brutal close-quarters brawl lasted less than twenty seconds.

Dean kicked its crotch and slashed its neck.

Sharp bone spurs also cut bloody, mangled wounds into Dean’s chest, abdomen, and arms.

But the snake-haired man’s condition grew worse and worse. Amidst the swirling dust, it exposed a flaw.

Dean jumped forward nimbly on his tiptoes, aiming for its exposed chest, and swept his arm diagonally, neatly slicing its trachea.

Blood sprayed out.

It splashed all over Dean’s head and face.

But he had no time to catch his breath.

Violent wind came from both sides.

The pained snake-haired man curled its lips into a grimace of triumph.

"Caught you, little mouse."

Suddenly erupting with astonishing speed and strength, it grabbed Dean’s waist with both hands, pulling him into its arms, its bone spurs writhing and aiming at his body.

Its arms wrapped around him, and its legs intertwined like a python.

Dean was instantly held as if in a giant mouth with interlocking teeth; the immense pressure made it impossible for him to break free.

But the Ghost Armor held the bone spurs at bay, wrestling with the snake-haired man.

Dean’s azure eyes flashed with madness as his left hand hooked into the snake-haired man’s left eye.

*Squish, squish.*

Blood splattered.

Then it was thrown into the sunlight beneath the window, catching fire and turning to ash.

At the same time, Dean’s right hand gripped the planchette, stabbing the snake-haired man’s temple repeatedly, leaving trails of afterimages!

"Roar!"

The snake-haired man roared, further tightening its arms and hugging Dean fiercely. Under the immense pressure, the translucent Ghost Armor finally collapsed completely, returning to its origin.

Losing his last line of defense.

Eight bone spurs pierced through Dean’s chest and out his back, creating eight horrific holes.

Dean was like a grilled fish skewered on a harpoon; his body straightened instantly, arching backward.

Thick blood erupted from the eight fountains on his body.

It dyed the man and the monster, who were locked in a tight embrace, staining them until they looked like a pair of lovers impaled together in a suicide pact.

But the bond between them was not love; it was hate and madness!

The sudden, intense pain almost caused Dean to lose consciousness, but his many experiences with shapeshifting had tempered his pain nerves to be as hard as steel.

With his face twisted, he tenaciously launched three counterattacks.

His right-hand planchette pulled horizontally, then slashed vertically, carving a bloody cross-shaped wound into that thick, short neck.

The hissing, screaming snake-haired man turned in place while holding Dean, then collapsed backward to the ground, gasping for breath.

The combination of critical injuries and sunlight burns finally exhausted its life force.

Dean endured the agonizing pain, turned his body, and rolled with it into the sunlight beneath the window.

*Hiss...*

Thick smoke rose.

The snake-haired man’s bloated, congested face ignited in flames, its pupils dilated, its skin cracked, and other parts of its body began to burn under the sunlight.

The scorching flames curled Dean’s short platinum hair and began to char his face.

Gritting his teeth, he twisted his shoulders, thighs, and abdomen, slowly pulling his body away from the gruesome bone spurs one by one.

More shocking fountains of blood erupted.

He leaned against the wall, weak as a punctured water bag.

Blood pooled beneath him, his lips pale.

Boundless cold washed over him, but he had no strength to shiver; his consciousness and the image before his eyes began to blur.

His life force was dissipating rapidly.

With his final thought, Dean deactivated his shapeshifting state.

His nearly shattered body began to expand and contract in an eerie fashion.

Pain replaced the weakness of dying!

Simultaneously, a vigorous surge of life force injected into his nearly dry body.

"So that's how it is. You are not Gru Stone." A voice, weak enough to almost vanish, sounded. The snake-haired man turned its charred face, its one remaining right eye looking at the rapidly transforming Dean. "Only stronger supernatural forces can destroy the supernatural."

Only at this moment, with both mortal enemies paralyzed on the ground, was there a chance for exchange.

"I am human, and you are a monster that feeds on my kind." Leaning against the wall, Dean—whose joints were cracking and growing like branching tree limbs—gave him a cold look. His spine curved like a startled cat, and his voice trembled in the agony of transformation. "We are born enemies."

"Haha! Impeccable moral standards, but how much nobler can humans be than monsters?" The snake-haired man acted as if he had heard the greatest joke, his charred lips curling into a creepy smile. "When I was feeding, why didn't you stop me and save that poor sacrificial offering?"

Dean struggled desperately, wanting to rise and give this monster a final blow to shut its foul mouth, but every inch of his skin was cramping; he couldn't move.

The snake-haired man looked at him deeply, but the hate and resentment in its eyes had quietly vanished, replaced by a trace of recognition.

"Your scent already proves it. You are a cold-blooded killer; you are more like a monster than most Nightbreed who follow the Iron Law."

"The people I kill deserve it." Dean leaned against the wall, his body spasming like shifting puzzle pieces. His blonde hair turned black, the bloody holes in his chest vanished, and his skin quickly returned to being smooth and whole, as if he had never been injured.

Shapeshifting lv0 (25/100) → (28/100)

"I smell a guilty conscience. I can also see that you enjoy the slaughter. Just like before, why did you have to endure so much?"

"Slaughter needs no hypocritical excuses or reasons. We kill when we want to kill!"

"Cast aside those boring rules and principles, and embrace freedom."

The snake-haired man stared at his stiff face, its expression growing softer, and said in a hoarse voice, reciting a parable.

"Hear that? Midian is calling to you, and you will eventually be reborn as me."

"No need to worry... only a few weak Nightbreed fear the sun."

*Thump.*

Its neck was burned to ashes, and its ugly head rolled to the ground, wearing an expression of listening.

Its burning, solitary eye gazed longingly into the dark void in the corner of the bedroom, as if it saw that longed-for place. Its withering lips opened and closed, reciting a passage stumblingly but with deep affection:

"God is in heaven."

"Oz is at the end of the rainbow."

"Midian is a paradise for monsters."

"Our home..."

"A place where souls find rest..."

"I am home."

*Whoosh—*

A sudden gust of wind blew in from the window.

That massive, terrifying monster body, burning with cyan flames, was like a sculpture weathered for a thousand years, turning to ash in an instant and vanishing with the wind.

Some invisible substance flew into Dean’s body. His vision blurred, and in a daze, he saw a vast field of monsters with green faces and fangs smiling in welcome.

...

"You inflicted most of the fatal wounds on the Nightbreed Westhaven. Westhaven is dead. Supernatural Hunter activated. You have absorbed 1 point of strength."

Strength: 11.4 → 12.4.

*Huff... puff...*

Having completely returned to his original form, his injuries healed, Dean closed his eyes and felt the hot current surging within him, and the muscles beneath his skin rapidly stretching and toughening. He pondered this dying poem.

A notification flashed before his eyes.

You disguised yourself as Gru Stone, infiltrated his hunter family, saw the god they hid in the secret chamber, and elicited the opponent's true identity—a Nightbreed from the monster paradise, Midian.

You stood firmly on the side of human "justice" once again, judged the Stone family through a surprise attack, and cleverly used sunlight to eliminate the Nightbreed who had been cast out of its home.

You have achieved your goal.

"God" completion: 100%.

You may claim your reward at any time.

...

Dean’s body suddenly trembled. A massive, indescribable hunger surged into his heart. Every cell seemed to be groaning, wailing, demanding nutrition.

He rushed out of the bedroom regardless of anything, sprinting toward the kitchen!

...

(End of chapter)