Chapter 41: Always watch your back in cyberpunk

Shortly after Amon appeared behind the beastman crew, the pupils of the cat beastman, Paul’s right-hand man, contracted.

Time seemed to slow down for him.

Thanks to his innate dynamic vision as a feline beastman and genetic modification procedures, the catman had gained dynamic vision rivaling that of a military-grade neural accelerator.

Though his body couldn’t keep up with his vision, he could at least clearly perceive what was happening.

The sight of crimson rain falling slowly was almost dreamlike.

But he soon regretted his actions.

In the slowed-down time, he could see everything clearly.

Amon’s sword gleamed.

A flash of light passed through the necks of his brothers, and their heads were harvested like fruit.

‘What kind of monster is this…?’

A human neck is sturdy.

It’s so resilient that a guillotine had to be specifically designed to sever it.

For Amon, a man who harvested necks as though picking fruit, there was no doubt he was a monster.

‘Boss, I think we’re screwed.’

Within the slowed time, he drew his sword.

It seemed only the crew’s high-ranking members could react to Amon’s attack.

The longer he hesitated, the more of his comrades would fall.

Suppressing his fear, he charged at Amon.

Amon wasn’t looking at him at that moment.

‘Now’s my chance.’

Even while running, the catman’s footsteps were nearly silent.

He crept behind Amon, and as he watched intently for the right moment, he swung his sword down.

But—

“What?”

Amon dodged.

It was a strike that should have been unavoidable.

Not only did Amon evade it, but he also caught the catman’s side.

‘What in the world…’

Such astonishing footwork.

Within his slowed perception, Amon’s sword approached his neck.

His eyes followed the blade, but his body couldn’t keep up.

‘Boss, it seems I overestimated myself.’

As his spinning vision blurred, the catman closed his eyes.

***

Rain fell.

Though the sky was clear, crimson rain poured relentlessly.

Every time the rain seemed to let up, Amon’s sword would flash, and it would start pouring heavily again.

Standing under the rain, Paul muttered blankly.

“Ferdy, Louis, Karon…”

The blood of his cherished comrades soaked his clothes and fur.

Yet Amon didn’t stop.

Necks of countless beastmen flew into the air as crimson rain fell.

In his heart, Paul wanted to resist.

He wanted to shoot, throw bombs, and set fire to Amon’s back, just as he had done to others in the dungeon.

But he couldn’t.

Amon never gave an opening.

He rampaged in the midst of the beastmen, always positioning himself such that any gunfire would inevitably hit another beastman.

Amon ruthlessly exploited the bonds of the beastmen.

“No…”

The once vast group had dwindled to just ten.

They had banded together to survive in this miserable city.

At first, all they wanted was survival, but over time, they dreamed of a better life with their brothers.

That dream was now shattered.

Unable to endure any longer, a rat beastman fired a shotgun.

But Amon easily dodged.

The missed shot tore through the chest of another beastman who had been facing Amon.

The beastman stared in shock before collapsing forward.

“No… This isn’t…”

Unfortunately, that beastman was also a rat beastman.

Not just of the same species but a true blood brother.

The rat beastman’s face turned pale as he realized he had killed his twin brother with his own hands.

“This isn’t why…”

Sensing the mood, Amon approached the rat beastman and whispered.

“It’s your fault.”

That was all it took.

The rat beastman offered no resistance as he surrendered his neck.

The others who remained saw the horrifying sight.

Silence fell over the alley.

As everyone lost their will to fight, and their muzzles lowered to the ground, Paul was the only one who still had his aimed at Amon.

He shouted, “Why are you doing this to us?”

Paul knew he wasn’t innocent.

But as someone who didn’t believe in the concept of karma, he couldn’t accept the situation.

What he faced now was nothing but misfortune, neither more nor less.

“Why did it have to come to this?”

Amon found the question absurd.

‘How could someone be so shameless?’

Though Amon considered beastmen to be equal to humans, this much he was certain:

The one in front of him was nothing but a beast.

Amon spoke.

“Do you remember how many parties you sold to the Center?”

“How could I possibly remember all of them?”

“Then do you recall how many family members of your party members you sold off?”

“I told you, I don’t remember!”

“Of course, you don’t. It wasn’t the first time.”

‘How many lives had been sacrificed in that Center?’

The thought that Sonia could have been among them filled him with nausea.

Suppressing the bile rising in his throat, Amon said.

“It’s astonishing how you can commit such atrocities and still be so self-assured.”

“I had no choice if I wanted to feed my brothers.”

“There’s still a line you shouldn’t cross.”

“In this city, if I hadn’t done it, someone else would have!”

“Then that someone else would’ve died at my hands.”

As soon as those words left his lips, Amon charged at Paul.

Paul aimed his machine gun at Amon.

At that moment, Amon kicked one of the severed heads on the ground toward Paul.

Startled by the sudden appearance of his comrade’s head, Paul flinched, giving Amon the chance to close the distance between them.

Swoosh.

Amon’s sword claimed both of Paul’s eyes.

In the ensuing darkness, Paul felt the sensation vanish below his wrists.

“Run, boys! Get out of here!”

Even in that moment, Paul looked out for his brothers.

Paul’s ears were filled with the sounds of their shouts and screams.

As more and more bodies hit the ground, Paul counted each one.

By the time he counted to five, despair brought him to his knees.

“Are you… still alive, boys?”

He fumbled on the ground.

His hand touched the head of one of his beastman comrades.

Feeling the hard surface of a skull beneath his fingers, Paul was forced to accept reality.

A single stream of bloody tears trickled down his cheek.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, boys…”

Even in his dying moments, Paul’s desperate search for his brothers was pitiful to witness.

But Amon felt no sympathy.

Before Paul could curse him, a flash of light swept past his neck.

Paul’s severed head rolled, his mouth still agape.

Amon picked up the head.

“I don’t know how much your bounty will fetch, but at least it can serve as an apology to the bereaved.”

With Paul’s head in hand, Amon left the scene.

***

A few hours later.

The headline “<Beastman Crew and the Clinic Center’s Human Trafficking>” spread like wildfire throughout the city.

The case of the beastman crew’s trafficking scandal became the hottest topic, and the flames didn’t die down for days.

[The incident at Love Clinic Center was orchestrated by Paul’s crew, who infiltrated explorer parties to carry out their scheme—]

The news anchor expressed outrage at their crimes.

But her anger wasn’t born of a sense of justice.

It was profitable.

Even in a world where justice and good deeds were nothing more than laughable jokes, hypocrisy was still lucrative.

At the very least, police had to appear righteous, and public figures had to act virtuous on-screen.

People pointed fingers at the deceased Paul and his beastmen.

Not out of a sense of justice or concern for societal order.

It was simply enjoyable.

By condemning them, the public felt a sense of moral superiority.

And so, they continued their tirade.

Conveniently, the culprits were dead, leaving no one to worry about repercussions.

For the city’s residents, it was the perfect form of entertainment.

Although the issue of societal crimes committed by beastmen resurfaced during the uproar, it quickly subsided.

In a world where crime was ubiquitous across all races, cultures, and species, such discussions held no real significance.

***

In the midst of all this, Amon continued his daily life.

His name didn’t make it into the news.

This time, he was treated as an anonymous mercenary.

Thanks to claiming the bounty through an intermediary broker, no one knew Amon’s identity.

If anyone thoroughly investigated the scene, they might eventually uncover that the mercenary was Amon.

But naturally, that never happened.

The police didn’t bother investigating, and the building owner cleaned up the scene quickly to re-rent the property.

‘Yeah, that’s about the standard for the police.’

The moment the police had shown up at Amon’s house, he had already suspected their incompetence.

Thus, the incident was quietly buried.

Until the commotion subsided, Amon temporarily paused his mercenary and exploration activities.

He didn’t want to risk exposing himself by acting recklessly and drawing unnecessary attention.

During this time, Amon focused on reviewing the battle in the training facility.

‘I need to refine my swordsmanship.’

The most critical aspect of swordsmanship was footwork.

This principle extended to all martial arts—good footwork was fundamental.

The emphasis on foot techniques in martial arts was no coincidence.

A change in footwork naturally altered the way one wielded their weapon.

For someone who possessed Sky Step, it was essential to have swordsmanship that complemented it.

‘I couldn’t use it effectively in actual combat.’

Although he had the theoretical knowledge of sword techniques that matched Sky Step, he hadn’t been able to execute them in the field.

He had merely dodged attacks and swung his sword as usual, without integrating Sky Step into his offense.

This was due to insufficient practice.

Thus, Amon spent his days wielding his sword in the training room while waiting for things outside to calm down.

One day, as Amon was engrossed in his training, he heard the door to the training room open.

‘Who is it?’

It wasn’t a staff member.

In this world, personal combat techniques were as important as one’s life.

Just as martial arts families wouldn’t allow outsiders to observe their training, the same principle applied here.

In some cases, intruding could cost you your head, which was why no CCTV was installed in the training rooms.

Amon stopped swinging his sword and turned to the door.

The moment he saw familiar black hair peeking through, he remembered something he had forgotten.

‘Ah, right. I was supposed to help Cassie with her stance today.’

Living a routine of training grounds, home, and church had dulled his sense of time.

Soon, Cassie fully entered the room.

Her appearance was entirely different from when they first met, from her outfit to her demeanor.

Initially, she had used a pistol as her weapon of choice, but after several missions, she realized that a spear suited her better.

Since then, her attire also underwent a drastic change to accommodate the spear.

Her previously thick, covering clothes were replaced with lighter garments for mobility.

This revealed her figure, which had been hidden beneath.

Though her voluptuous chest rivaled Sonia’s, her true charm lay in her thighs, which were perfectly optimized for wielding a spear.

Despite the explosive power they generated—almost too fast for the eye to follow—her thighs were impeccably smooth.

‘How can such strength come from those legs?’

On top of that, her shorts were exceedingly short.

The sheer pantyhose she wore couldn’t hide her toned and healthy beauty.

Carrying two spears on her back, she smiled brightly and ran toward Amon.

“Amon! Did you wait long?”

“No, I just got here myself.”

“Yeah, right. You’re drenched in sweat, and you think that’s convincing?”

“Does it matter? Anyway, do you mind if I rest a bit before we start?”

“Sure, I’ve got plenty of time today.”

“Thanks.”

Amon set aside his sword and grabbed a towel to wipe his sweat.

He placed the towel down and took a drink of water.

While Amon was savoring the post-workout refreshment, Cassie’s gaze was fixed on one thing—the sweat-soaked towel.

Her hand reached out toward it.

Just before her fingers touched the towel—

“I’m all rested. Let’s start training.”

Startled by Amon’s sudden words, Cassie jumped.

“Something wrong?”

“No, nothing at all.”

Feigning nonchalance, she walked with Amon to the center of the training room.

Unbeknownst to him, her eyes had been glued to his towel the entire time.