"Even after I've sliced it up like this, it's still alive. Truly impressive for a ghoul!" Muria muttered in slight admiration, observing the ghoul's dismembered remains, which he'd cut into 108 pieces. Despite the brutal dismemberment, each chunk of flesh continued to twitch, inching together in an attempt to reassemble.
"I wonder what kind of regeneration powers a higher-ranked ghoul would have—or the legendary Ghoul King, rumored to be the source of all ghouls," Muria mused, eyes alight with anticipation. "If I get the chance, I'd love to test that out."
"Now to clean up the scene and assess the gains," he thought, checking his internal condition. While he hadn't taken much damage during the fight, some minor injuries lingered from battling a ghoul with far superior physical prowess.
The greater concern, however, was the toll on his energy core. The vast sea of energy that supported his core had significantly shrunk, and the core itself appeared dim and on the verge of collapsing. Fortunately, the core hadn't actually shattered, so it would only take some focused recuperation to restore. As for the searing pain from pushing his body to its limits, Muria simply ignored it—pain of this level was tolerable.
"Fifth-tier… a bit out of my league," he murmured, looking down at the two ghoul corpses. Killing the younger brother had been easy, but the older sister's power level posed a problem. A mid-tier ghoul at fifth rank was no easy feat to explain away, especially given the skill and strength needed to bring her down. Even for someone skilled in both martial arts and Star Armor, it was a stretch that defied logic.
"Better keep this under wraps," Muria decided. "I'll just say I killed a couple of low-level ghouls. Best to stay low-profile."
With that resolved, Muria set the two corpses ablaze, watching them slowly turn to ash in the flames.
"Time to head home. Susanna must be worried sick by now." With the scene cleaned up, Muria exited the shabby apartment building, glanced at the night sky, and made his way back.
Not long after he left, a team of people in white trench coats appeared in the apartment. They examined the ash on the floor and the signs of combat around the room, collecting data as they moved.
"Interesting. We'd just begun tracking this ghoul, and now someone's already taken her out."
"Looks like it might have been a chance encounter. There are no signs of forced entry, meaning whoever killed these two ghouls must have entered peacefully," one of the investigators noted.
"So they were baited?" another man in white remarked with a bemused expression.
"Doesn't seem like it was one of ours."
"Then who?"
"A terrifying individual."
"Terrifying? How so?"
"Look around. Almost all the marks left here are from the mid-tier ghoul's attacks. There's barely a trace of the one who killed her, apart from a few footprints. Know what that means?"
"The guy who poached our target has insane control over his power. Every strike hit its mark, so he didn't leave a single trace."
"How fascinating. Check all nearby surveillance—I want to know who this person is."
"No need." One of the white-coated agents stood up after measuring the faint footprints Muria had left.
"Why not?"
"Based on data analysis, the attacker was a Star Armor user wearing Phoenix Hatchling armor."
"A Douglas family member? Tch, another one of those smug bastards who think the world revolves around them."
"Figures. In that case, there's no need to follow up. Pack it up, everyone!"
…
In the days that followed, Muria occasionally took to the streets of Dovaryr's capital city to 'fish' for ghouls, seeing it as a way to break the monotony of his routine training. He didn't forget to inform the Golden Dragoness still residing in the city to pass along a message to Ansel, who was off in the wilderness, searching ancient ruins for martial arts manuals.
Meanwhile, out in the wastelands, a massive beast with a fierce appearance howled skyward at a figure floating above it. The figure, wrapped in a pure white aura, was a towering, muscular man. Though dwarfed by the beast below, his calm, unwavering presence cowed the beast, whose intimidating growl betrayed a hint of fear.
Unfazed, the man descended to the ground, letting his martial aura dissipate. He gazed at the snarling beast with a single, piercing look.
With a whimper, the beast cowered, then hesitated before rolling onto its back to expose its soft, white belly in submission.
Ignoring the beast, the man focused on the building it had chosen as its den—an abandoned dojo once dedicated to teaching martial arts. He knew there was a slim chance he'd find valuable martial arts texts here, though he'd long since grown accustomed to the lack of results. After five years of scouring ruins, his only real gains had come from battling wild beasts, refining his strength and honing his martial skills to mastery. Three centuries ago, his prowess would have granted him the title of martial arts master, with the right to establish his own school.
Soon, he emerged from the ruins, unsurprised by the lack of findings. He'd stopped expecting anything from these expeditions.
Just as he opened his tattered map to mark his next target, his communicator beeped. Momentarily surprised, he unclipped it from his belt, where it hung like a forgotten trinket. The screen displayed the face of a beautiful blonde woman.
"I found Muria," she said.
"Mm." The man responded calmly.
"He's been reborn into the Douglas family. With his Star Suit adaptability at 64.68%, he's now an official family member."
"Mm." The man's expression remained impassive, showing no envy.
"I've told Muria about martial arts, and now he wants to pursue it as well. He's applied to the Douglas family and has access to their entire collection of martial arts manuals."
"…." Hearing this, the man's face twitched slightly, though he didn't respond further.
"Come back. Stop relying on luck out there. You're just not cut out for it. Your son has access to more martial arts texts than he could read in a lifetime."
"I understand." Processing this somewhat jealousy-inducing news, Ansel nodded, unashamed. He wasn't one to cling to his pride. Besides, his lack of progress was due to sheer bad luck, not lack of skill.
…
"Mom, I'm heading to a party. I'll probably be back late, so don't wait up for dinner."
Having finished his training for the day, Muria descended the stairs and called out to Susanna, who was watching a show on the couch.
"Be careful on the way, and don't stay out too late."
"Got it." Muria replied, stepping out the door and shutting it behind him.
Susanna's gaze lingered on the door as she fell into thought. After a while, she picked up her phone and dialed.
"What is it?" came a steady male voice.
"I need you to hire two advanced Star Armor users and send them here."
A pause, and then, "We're not made of money, you know. Money doesn't just fall from the sky."
"Gerald has been hunting anomalies recently! I need you to hire some powerful Star Armor users to protect him," Susanna replied calmly. Muria's recent changes in behavior had naturally piqued her curiosity, leading her to investigate—and now she wanted reinforcements, especially since Muria hadn't fully concealed his activities from her.
"Is he hunting mutated creatures? If I recall, that's part of the third-year Star Armor training, an extracurricular school program. They'll assign strong Star Armor users for protection, so there's no need for me to spend money on that."
"But he's only in his first year! Did you forget that?" Susanna's tone took on a chill. "Is there anything on your mind other than making money?"
"Haha, I would never forget my grandson. So you're saying he's been hunting anomalies on his own? That could be dangerous. I'll send a squad of mercenaries immediately."
"Make sure there are at least two advanced Star Armor users."
"I understand."
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