The sterile, golden-lit corridor King had forged felt like a distant memory. Now, he moved through the true bowels of the Monster Association's territory—a winding, organic-feeling passage where the walls seemed to pulse with a faint, sickly rhythm. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth, iron, and something sweetly rotten. The only light came from sporadic clusters of bioluminescent fungus, casting everything in an eerie, greenish hue. His King's Eyes, however, rendered the darkness irrelevant, painting the world in a tapestry of thermal signatures, structural stress points, and the shimmering, malignant auras of hidden life.
He walked with purpose, the deep, steady thrum of the King Engine his only companion. His mind was a cool, calculating engine. BP: 346,900. The path ahead promises more. This is optimal. He was moving through a field he did not sow but would gladly harvest.
The attack came not from ahead, but from the sides and ceiling.
His King's Eyes flared a millisecond before the system's warning.
[WARNING: High-Speed Ambush Detected. Multiple breaches imminent. 8 meters.]
[Threat Analysis:]
x4 Tiger-Level: Tunnel-Burrowers
x2 Demon-Level (Symbiotic Brutes): 'Crusher' & 'Mauler'
The stone to his left and right exploded inward in a hail of shrapnel. From the holes surged four creatures that looked like hairless, muscular badgers with drill-like snouts and claws designed for tearing through bedrock. They moved with shocking coordination, two going low for his legs, two leaping high for his head and shoulders.
Simultaneously, the ceiling directly above him shattered. Two massive forms dropped down, landing with ground-shaking thuds that cracked the floor. They were a matched pair of horrors—thick, bipedal brutes covered in overlapping plates of bony chitin. One Crusher had fists like piledrivers, already swinging downward in a crushing arc. The other Mauler had arms ending in three curved, scythe-like blades, which it crossed in a scissoring motion aimed at King's torso.
The timing was perfect. A classic pincer-ambush from a team that had clearly done this before. Against any other hero, it would have been a moment of critical peril.
King's body reacted before his conscious thought could finish. Royal Acceleration ignited. He didn't move forward or back; he simply wasn't there anymore. The piledriver fist and the scything blades met only air and the afterimage of a golden blur. King reappeared ten meters back down the tunnel, having slipped through the closing trap like smoke.
The four burrowers, missing their target, tumbled into a confused heap. The two Demons straightened up, their tiny, piggish eyes blinking in surprise within their armored faces. They scanned the tunnel and found King standing calmly, his golden gaze fixed on them, utterly unfazed.
A wide, jagged grin split Crusher's face, revealing rows of blunt, granite-like teeth. "Heh… heheheh! Look at that, Mauler! We caught the big one! The legendary King, all by his lonesome!"
Mauler's blades scraped together with a sound like grinding bones, sparks flying. Its voice was a wet gurgle. "The Boss'll give us our own wing for this! Lets tear him apart and become legends! Today's our lucky day!"
King listened to their boasting, his expression impassive. Their auras were strong, dense with malicious intent and the confidence of successful hunters. But to his enhanced perceptions, they were just… loud. Brute force given form, with no subtlety, no deeper energy manipulation. Standard Demonic physical threats, his combat instincts supplied. Primary strategy: Shatter armor. Disable limbs. Overwhelm with superior speed and focused power.
"To become legends," King rumbled, his voice echoing in the confined space, deeper and more resonant than the monsters' boasts, "you need more than luck."
He didn't wait for a retort. King's Armor cascaded over him in an instant, not as a full, glowing shell, but as concentrated plates of solidified golden aura over his fists, forearms, shins, and core. It was the most efficient configuration for attack.
Then, he moved.
Royal Acceleration turned him into a streaking comet of light. He didn't aim for the Demons first. He flashed through the space occupied by the four scrambling Tiger-level burrowers. To them, it was as if a golden freight train passed through their formation. A short, sharp Seismic Clap, compressed to the area of his palm, struck the first. The shockwave didn't just crush it; it propagated through its body and into the two behind it, their internal organs turning to slurry. The fourth had a millisecond to shriek before King's armored foot, moving in a blur, kicked its head clean off its shoulders.
The entire process took less than a second. King skidded to a halt, facing the two Demons once more, four twitching, dissolving corpses at his feet.
[Tiger-Level Threats Neutralized: x4]
BP Awarded: +6,000
[Total BP: 352,900]
Crusher and Mauler stared, their grins frozen. The sheer, casual speed of the slaughter was incomprehensible for their minds.
"You insects—!" Mauler gurgled, charging forward, its bladed arms becoming a whirlwind of cutting edges.
King met the charge. His King's Eyes tracked every rotation, calculating the precise rhythm of the attacks. He didn't block. He weaved, his head and torso moving in micro-adjustments, the deadly blades passing so close they hummed against the energy field of his subtle armor. As Mauler overextended, King stepped inside its guard.
His right fist, a hammer of demonic strength encased in golden light, drove upward into Mauler's armored chin.
KR-KRACK!
The sound was of solid rock fracturing. Mauler's head snapped back, several bone-plates shattering. It staggered, dazed.
Crusher, roaring, tried to flank, its massive fist swinging in a wide, obliterating arc. King dropped into a crouch, the fist passing over him, and drove his own fist, reinforced with a micro-burst of Kinetic energy, into Crusher's knee joint from the side.
SHATTER!
The joint exploded leaving Crusher bellowed in agony, crashing to one knee.
King was a tempest of precise, devastating violence. He didn't dance around them; he dismantled them. A punch to Mauler's elbow joint sheared the scythe-blade arm off. A spinning kick to Crusher's shoulder dislocated the limb with a sickening pop. Every impact was accompanied by a secondary shockwave from his raw physical power, causing internal hemorrhaging even where the armor held.
"Impossible! You're just a human!" Crusher screamed, swinging wildly with its one good arm.
"Indeed" King responded, his voice calm as he moved. He grabbed Crusher's swinging wrist, arrested its momentum with terrifying ease, and used Royal Acceleration to spin, using the monster's own mass and velocity to hurl it head-first into the tunnel wall. The stone cratered; Crusher slid down, its skull visibly deformed, unconscious or dead.
Mauler, missing an arm and leaking green ichor, saw its partner fall. Primal survival instinct overrode ambition. With a shriek of pure terror, it turned and fled, not back down a tunnel, but toward the still-warm corpse of the Crusher.
"No! Not today! I won't die for the Boss's pride!" it gurgled, desperation lending it speed.
King took a step to pursue, but Mauler was already upon the fallen Crusher. Instead of helping its ally, it did something monstrous. It plunged its remaining bladed arm into Crusher's chest and began to feast, tearing out great chunks of flesh and cramming them into its wide, tooth-filled maw.
"What are you—?" King began, his analytical focus locking onto the bizarre act.
The transformation was swift and grotesque. As it devoured its fellow Demon, Mauler's thin, armored frame began to swell. Muscles bulged and writhed beneath its skin, splitting and regrowing its chitinous plates into larger, sharper formations. Its remaining bladed arm thickened, the blades growing longer and glowing with a sickly red bio-energy. Its aura, which had been flickering in fear, spiked dramatically in density and malice. It grew a full meter taller, its body now a mountain of vengeful, cannibalistic muscle.
It turned back to King, its eyes now burning with crimson light. New, needle-like teeth filled its maw, dripping with saliva and its comrade's blood. Its voice was now a basso roar that shook dust from the ceiling.
"YOU SEE?! WE ARE THE MONSTER ASSOCIATION! WE EVOLVE! WE CONSUME! I HAVE TAKEN HIS STRENGTH! I AM NO LONGER MAULER… I AM DEVOURER! AND YOUR LEGEND… ENDS TODAY!"
[SYSTEM UPDATE: Threat Re-evaluated.]
[Target 'Mauler' has undergone Forced Evolution via Biomass Assimilation.]
[New Designation: 'Devourer' - Demon-Level (Peak)]
[WARNING: Physical parameters increased by approximately 300%. Energy signature volatile.]
King's eyes narrowed. Cannibalistic evolution. A desperate, high-risk tactic. His Adaptive Combat Instincts updated the threat model. Brute force was still its primary attribute, but now amplified to extreme levels. The bio-energy in its blade suggested a possible ranged or explosive attack. The instability was both a weakness and a danger—it could be pushed to a breaking point, but that point might be catastrophic.
The Devourer didn't wait. It moved, not with its previous clumsy speed, but with a terrifying, bulldozing velocity. It covered the distance in a blink, its new, massive bladed arm coming down in an overhead chop meant to split King in two.
This time, King did not dodge. He wanted to measure the upgrade.
He crossed his arms above his head, King's Armor flaring into a solid, brilliant golden shield.
BOOOM!
The impact was titanic. The shockwave blew out the walls of the tunnel for meters around. King's boots sank three inches into the stone floor. A web of cracks exploded beneath him. The force was immense—greater than the combined charge of the two original Demons.
But the golden shield heald.
Through the dust, King saw the surprise in the Devourer's crimson eyes. "My turn," King said.
As the monster reared back for another strike, King unleashed his own barrage. He was a storm of concentrated kinetic fury. His fists became blurs, each punch like a Seismic Clap condensed to its point of impact.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
The sound was a continuous, rolling thunder. He struck the Devourer's chest, its thick arm, its abdomen. Each blow cratered the newly formed muscle and bone-plate, sending ichor flying. The monster roared, trying to swing, but King's Royal Acceleration allowed him to stay inside its guard, a relentless, punishing hammer.
The Devourer staggered under the onslaught. Its regenerative abilities struggled to keep up with the sheer volume of trauma. In desperation, it opened its maw, and the bio-energy gathered in its blade-arm surged into its throat, preparing to unleash a concentrated blast of corrosive destruction.
King saw the energy buildup in its core. A final, foolish gamble.
He ceased his barrage, planted his feet, and focused. Not on his fists, but on the space directly in front of the monster's chest. He brought his palms together in a single, definitive clap.
KA-POWWWW!
This was not a concussive wave. This was a Focused Seismic Impact, a lance of pure vibrational force. It hit the Devourer just as the bio-energy in its system peaked.
The effect was not an explosion out, but an explosion in.
The monster's body stiffened. Its crimson eyes bulged. The unstable energy it had absorbed and generated, already stressed by King's beating, had its structural integrity shattered by the precise vibrational attack. From within its swollen body came a series of wet, horrific pops and cracks. Its chest cavity imploded, then its back burst outward in a geyser of half-digested biomass, shattered bone, and fizzling red energy.
The Devourer stood for a second, a hollowed-out monument to its own gluttony, then collapsed into a dissipating heap of rapidly dissolving tissue.
Silence returned, heavier than before. The tunnel was a ruined mess.
King let out a slow breath, his golden armor fading. The notifications chimed.
[Demon-Level Threat 'Crusher' Defeated. BP Awarded: +30,000.]
[Evolved Demon-Level (Peak) Threat 'Devourer' Defeated. BP Awarded: +58,000.]
[Total BP from Engagement: +94,000.]
[Current Total BP: 440,900.]
Four hundred and forty thousand, nine hundred. The number was staggering.
He looked at the dissolving remains of the Devourer. Its evolution had been a surprise, a testament to the horrifying adaptability of the Monster Association. It had also been a windfall.
------
The tunnel system deepened, the architecture shifting from crude stone to something disturbingly organic. The walls were lined with a pulsating, veined material that glowed with a faint internal light, like the interior of some colossal beast. The air grew warmer, thicker, carrying the scent of ozone and decay. King moved through it like a surgical instrument, his King's Eyes dissecting the environment. He had left the rubble of the cannibalistic Demons behind, a monument to failed ambition.
His progress was a silent, grim harvest. Packs of lesser monsters—twisted hybrids with too many limbs and shrieking mouths—would erupt from side passages or drop from mucous-dripping ceiling vents. They died efficiently. A flick of his wrist sent a Kinetic Blast through three skulls lined up in a row. A stomp of his foot triggered a localized Seismic Clamp that liquefied the organs of a burrowing creature before it could surface. Each engagement was brief, clinical, and added a few thousand BP to his ever-growing reserve. The King Engine played a low, continuous soundtrack to the slaughter, a bass note of impending doom that made the weaker creatures falter in their charges, making them easier targets.
[Tiger-Level Threats Neutralized: x6. BP Awarded: +9,000. Total BP: 449,900.]
The number was a comfort, a quantifiable measure of his growing capability in the face of the unknown Dragon-level executives that surely awaited. He was rounding a gentle, spiraling bend in the organic tunnel when he heard it.
A voice. High-pitched, trembling with what sounded like exhaustion and terror.
"H-hello? Is… is someone there? P-please… help me."
King froze. The voice was young, male, and came from a small ancillary tunnel he had just passed. It was a voice drilled into the head of every hero in the assault force. Waganma.
His system pinged first, a neutral, analytical alert in the corner of his vision.
[Tiger-level threat Detected]
Then, his King's Eyes, which had been scanning ahead, snapped to the source. His golden vision pierced the gloom of the side tunnel. He saw a small, hunched figure in torn, expensive clothes. The thermal signature was a confused blur—too warm for a human who'd been trapped in these cold depths, the core temperature fluctuating oddly. But it was the aura that gave it away. Where a terrified child's aura would be a frantic, bright spark of fear, this thing's aura was a sluggish, oozing smear of malice, clumsily contorted into a pathetic shape. And hovering at the edge of his perception, just around the corner behind the figure, was the clear, sharp signature of a standard Tiger-level monster, lying in wait.
It was a trap. A embarrassingly obvious one.
King turned slowly, his immense frame blocking the main tunnel's light. There, wiping fake tears from its eyes, was the impersonator. It had gotten the likeness superficially correct—the haircut, the slight build, the recognizable outfit. But the details were all wrong. The "fear" in its eyes was a pantomime, wide and unblinking without the true, skittering panic of a child. The dirt on its clothes was evenly distributed, like stage makeup, not the grime of frantic escape. It trembled, but the tremors were in its limbs only, not the core of its body.
"O-oh! It's… it's you!" the thing gasped, its voice a poor mimicry of relief. It took a staggering step forward. "King! You… you came! My father, he… he sent you, didn't he? I knew he would!"
It was laying it on thick, each line delivered with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. King said nothing. He simply watched, a statue of silent judgment, his golden eyes boring into the creature's facade.
The thing faltered for a second under that gaze but pressed on, its script demanding it close the distance. "I was so scared… I've been running and hiding. There's a monster! A really scary one! It's right back there!" It pointed a trembling finger back into the dark passage it came from, toward the waiting Tiger-level accomplice. "I barely got away! C-come on, we have to kill it before it finds more people! You can do it, right? You're my favorite hero!"
It was now within ten feet, its expression a grotesque mask of pleading adoration. It reached out a hand as if to clutch his leg. This was the play. Lure the compassionate hero close, into point-blank ambush range.
That was when King finally let the King Engine speak.
It began as a deep visceral thrum that vibrated up from the ground itself. The pulsating light in the walls seemed to dim in response.
The fake Waganma stopped dead, its outstretched hand freezing in mid-air. The pathetic act on its face cracked, revealing a sliver of genuine confusion beneath.
"You need more than that to fool me," King rumbled, his voice barely above a whisper yet carrying the weight of the deep earth.
He did not move a muscle. He did not raise his hand. He simply focused. He turned the King Engine from a passive emanation into a targeted weapon. He aimed the full, crushing weight of his cultivated legend—the terror of monsters, the awe of humanity, the absolute authority he had grinded and fought for—directly at the shivering form before him.
The effect was instantaneous.
The thing's poorly constructed human face began to melt. Its features blurred, eyes and mouth losing definition as if made of wet clay. A gurgle, not a child's sob but a wet, organic glug, escaped its dissolving throat. "N-no… the plan… the scent was perfect…" it bubbled incoherently.
"Your acting was not," King stated, his gaze unwavering.
The King Engine's pressure intensified. The creature's body lost all pretense of solidity. It slumped inward, its form collapsing into a quivering, translucent mound of purple-ish goo. Two beady black eyes floated to the surface of the gelatanous mass, wide with a terror far more real than anything it had simulated. It tried to form a mouth to scream, but only managed a pathetic ripple.
"You copied his appearance," King continued, taking one slow, resonant step forward. The goo flinched as if struck. "You copied his voice. You even copied a basic emotional script." Another step. The goo quivered, beginning to spread thinly across the floor, trying to retreat but unable to overcome the paralyzing fear. "But you could not copy a human soul. You could not replicate genuine terror. You are just a hollow thing, playing dress-up in the skin of a crisis."
With a final, gurgling whimper, the two black eyes rolled back and sank into the dissolving mass. The goo lost all cohesion, becoming a lifeless, sticky puddle on the tunnel floor, its malicious aura extinguished. Around the corner, the Tiger-level monster signature he had detected earlier abruptly winked out of existence, likely perishing from sheer psychic feedback or fleeing in mindless terror.
Silence descended, broken only by the fading echo of the King Engine as King eased its pressure.
[Shape-Shifting Tiger-Level Threat Neutralized]
BP Awarded: +2,500
Additional Threat Neutralized via Aura Feedback: +1,500
[Total BP: 454,000.]
They had tried to exploit the most basic heroic instinct—to save a child—and he had seen through it with cold, analytical clarity, ending the threat without throwing a single punch.
He looked down at the inert puddle, a crude and failed trick. It spoke volumes about the Monster Association's tactics. Deception, fear, psychological warfare. They understood that against true power, a direct fight was often futile.
He turned away from the remains of the failed impersonator and continued his descent into the heart of the hive. The King Engine resuming its steady, marching rhythm.