The atmosphere in the industrial yard instantly became a physical weight.
The moment Sung Jin-Woo unleashed his killing intent, the air turned thick and heavy, like the crushing pressure of the deep ocean. Dust motes froze mid-air. The distant sound of the waves seemed to muffle and die.
Kafka, standing just a few meters away, felt the full force of it. He gasped, his lungs feeling as if they were being squeezed in a vise. It wasn't the uncontrolled aura of their first meeting; this was different. It was a focused, directed wave of pure animosity, a predator declaring its intent to kill. It was personal.
Kaiju No. 9, however, did not flinch.
It tilted its featureless head, the single red slit of its eye narrowing. "Meal? How… delightfully primitive. So your design purpose is consumption and growth? A scavenger model. A simple, yet effective, concept."
The creature seemed completely unconcerned, its synthetic voice laced with an academic curiosity that was far more chilling than any roar. It processed Jin-Woo's threat not as an insult, but as a piece of data to be analyzed.
"My designation is Nine," it continued, its posture still relaxed. "And I am no mere scavenger. I am an artist. A creator. These unfortunate beasts you've dispatched were my idle sketches. Barely worth the biological material they were printed on. They were a test."
"A test?" Kafka managed to grunt out, still struggling to breathe under the weight of Jin-Woo's aura.
"But of course," No. 9 replied, its attention finally flicking to Kafka for a brief, dismissive moment. It was the glance a scientist might give to a lab rat squeaking in a cage. "A test to draw out the new, potent energy signature that blossomed in Shinjuku. The one that was raw, chaotic, and wonderfully Kaiju. Your energy."
Its focus snapped back to Jin-Woo. "But instead of the wild beast I was expecting, I find you. A fellow creation, but one of restraint. You wear its power signature. Did you consume it? Subjugate it? A fascinating outcome."
A horrifying realization dawned on Kafka. The swarm he'd just fought wasn't a random infestation. It was bait. Bait laid specifically for him. And by showing up, by using his powers, he had walked right into the trap. He hadn't just brought himself here; he had brought Sovereign to his rival.
He had messed up. Badly.
Jin-Woo took another step forward. His stride was slow, deliberate, each footstep a silent promise of violence. The gravel didn't even crunch beneath his feet.
"You speak too much," Jin-Woo said, his voice flat. The violet aura around his hands began to solidify, coalescing into two familiar, wicked-looking daggers. [Knight Killer] and [Rasaka's Fang]. The faint glow they emitted seemed to tear at the shadows, casting dancing, menacing patterns on the ground.
The appearance of the daggers finally changed No. 9's posture. It straightened slightly, a flicker of genuine surprise in its synthesized voice.
"Physical manifestation? Not a biological mutation, but a construct of pure energy? Impossible. That requires a level of atomic control I haven't even perfected. Your architect is a true genius."
Its long, slender fingers twitched, and the sleeves of its trench coat pulled back, revealing limbs that were not flesh, but a mass of shifting, pale-white sinew. "You are a masterpiece. I must have you. Your design secrets must be mine."
*SHIIINK!*
Faster than a human eye could follow, No. 9's right arm elongated, stretching across the thirty-meter gap. The tip of its arm morphed into a razor-sharp, bone-white blade, aimed directly at Jin-Woo's heart. It moved without sound, a silent, lethal strike.
Jin-Woo did not evade.
He didn't even seem to brace himself.
He simply brought [Knight Killer] up in a casual, almost lazy arc.
*CLAAAANG!*
The sound was deafening. A high-pitched, resonant shriek of energy impacting energy that shattered the windows of the nearest warehouse. Sparks, violet and white, erupted at the point of contact, illuminating the yard in a strobing flash of violent light.
Jin-Woo hadn't budged an inch. He held the blade at bay with his dagger, his expression one of complete, utter boredom.
No. 9's glowing red eye widened almost imperceptibly. "Incredible durability. And strength…"
"Is this the best your 'art' can produce?" Jin-Woo asked, his voice laced with contempt. He applied a minuscule amount of pressure.
KRAK!
Spiderweb fractures instantly appeared on No. 9's bone blade. With a flick of his wrist, Jin-Woo didn't just parry the weapon; he shattered it. The blade exploded into a hundred tiny, white shards that clattered uselessly to the ground.
Jin-Woo vanished.
Not a blur of speed. One moment he was there, the next, the space he occupied was empty. [Stealth] combined with pure, explosive movement.
Kafka felt a rush of displaced air as Jin-Woo passed him. He had become a phantom.
No. 9 reacted with inhuman speed. Its body contorted, its back sprouting multiple, sharp-tipped tendrils that whipped around it in a defensive perimeter. But they were swatting at empty air.
*Blade Rush.*
A voice whispered in the wind, a litany of deadly skill names.
*Mutilation.*
Space itself seemed to bend. Jin-Woo was everywhere at once. A dozen simultaneous afterimages appeared around No. 9, each one bringing a dagger down in a flash of violet light.
SHK-SHK-SHK-SHK-SHK!
The sound was of a master chef dicing vegetables with impossible speed.
No. 9's trench coat was shredded instantly. Deep, clean gashes appeared all over its pale, synthetic body. White, viscous fluid, its equivalent of blood, sprayed into the air. One of its legs and one of its arms were severed completely, dropping to the ground with a wet thud.
Jin-Woo reappeared behind it, his daggers dripping with the creature's strange blood. He had unleashed a storm of attacks, and it was over in less than a second.
Any other creature, any Kaiju, would have been dead. A pile of bisected meat.
But No. 9 simply stood there, maimed and bleeding. Then, with a series of wet, gruesome slurps and cracks, the wounds began to seal. The severed limbs dissolved into a puddle of white ooze that slithered back toward the main body, being reabsorbed with horrifying speed. In moments, it was completely whole again. Perfect.
"Extraordinary!" No. 9's voice exclaimed, filled with a twisted, scientific glee. "This body is a prototype, designed for maximum regeneration. To be able to inflict that much damage before my cells can react… your speed is sublime! The data I'm collecting is invaluable!"
It showed no pain. No anger. Only the ecstatic joy of a researcher whose hypothesis was being proven in the most spectacular fashion.
Kafka could only stare in abject horror. Jin-Woo had just torn it to pieces, and it healed in seconds, calling it a successful experiment. What kind of monster had he stumbled upon?
Jin-Woo stood motionless, his expression unreadable. He had to be surprised by the regeneration, but his face betrayed nothing. His daggers slowly dissolved back into shadow.
"Regeneration has a limit," Jin-Woo stated, his voice a cold promise. "It requires a fuel source. An energy reserve. I just need to empty your tank."
He raised a single hand.
The ground around them began to tremble.
"Arise," he commanded, the word echoing with the power of a god.
Kafka felt his soul freeze. He knew what that word meant. He had seen it in Yokohama.
This time, it wasn't a single summoned beast.
From the shadows of the thirteen slaughtered Yoju, wisps of black smoke began to rise. The smoke swirled and condensed, forming into glowing, violet eyes. With the sickening sound of crackling energy, thirteen new soldiers were born from the dead.
They were perfect, ethereal replicas of the Kaiju he had just killed. Shadow Yoju, wreathed in darkness, their forms solid yet shifting, their loyalty absolute.
A small, undead army, brought to life with a single word.
Kaiju No. 9's single red eye went wide. For the very first time, its synthetic voice was tinged with something other than curiosity. It was a single, shocked word.
"…Necromancy?"