The moment the meat slid down his throat, Nagumo felt it.
At first, there was only heat—an unnatural warmth spreading from his chest to the tips of his fingers. Then came the pain.
It crashed over him like a tidal wave.
A raw, guttural scream tore from his lungs, echoing violently against the stone walls of the cavern. It was the same scream Sylas had let out not long ago—the same agony, the same sense of something fundamental being torn apart and remade. Nagumo collapsed to his knees, fingers digging into the rocky floor as his body convulsed. Muscles tightened, bones shifted, skin burned as if molten metal had been poured into his veins.
Five minutes.
Five endless, excruciating minutes later, the pain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
Nagumo lay still, chest heaving. When he finally pushed himself upright, he wasn't the same person who had swallowed that meat.
His hair had turned pure white—snow-white, almost glowing under the dim cavern light. His eyes, once ordinary, now burned a deep crimson. His body had filled out, lean muscle stretching beneath his torn clothes, every movement carrying a new, coiled strength.
"Congratulations," a familiar voice called lazily from across the cave. "Welcome to the red-eye club."
Nagumo turned toward the sound.
Sylas sat cross-legged against the cavern wall, eyes closed, posture relaxed as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment. His black hair framed sharp red eyes that watched from beneath lowered lids.
Nagumo staggered to his feet and approached the smooth slab of stone Sylas had once used as a mirror. He stared at his reflection, lifting a trembling hand to his hair.
"…Why did mine turn white," he asked slowly, glancing over his shoulder, "while yours turned black?"
Sylas opened one eye, then the other, the faintest shrug rolling through his shoulders.
"How should I know?" he replied evenly. "Maybe the transformation isn't uniform. People react differently to different things. Same concept, different results."
Nagumo studied himself again in silence.
"…Still wish it wasn't white," he muttered. "I look like I'm either eighty years old or some edgy anime protagonist."
Sylas pressed his lips together, clearly fighting a laugh.
He failed.
A quiet snort escaped before he masked it with a cough.
Nagumo shot him a glare.
—
From that day forward, experimentation consumed them.
Every waking hour was spent testing the limits of their altered bodies. Time blurred inside the Abyss; there was no sunrise, no sunset—only the slow rhythm of exhaustion and recovery marking the passage of days.
Sylas focused on Nen.
At first, maintaining Ren was a struggle. He could hold it for roughly thirty minutes while directing his aura into specific parts of his body—enhancing his legs for speed, his fists for impact, his senses for perception. Even that level of control would have been impossible without the transformation amplifying his physical capabilities.
But growth came quickly.
He continued consuming different types of monster meat, carefully observing how each one affected him. With every battle, every refinement of Ten, Zetsu, Ren, and Hatsu, his endurance increased.
Thirty minutes became forty-five.
Forty-five became an hour.
Eventually, he could sustain Ren for over ninety minutes without his aura destabilizing. For his current situation, that was more than sufficient.
At the moment, Sylas wore nothing but a pair of black pants. His previous clothes had split at the seams after his transformation. He had attempted to squeeze back into them once before leaving the tunnel.
The memory alone made him grimace.
"Never again," he muttered, adjusting the thick strip of bear pelt draped over his shoulders like a crude coat. "I'll find something better later."
Stepping out of the tunnel, he crouched and picked up a stone roughly the size of a baseball. Closing his eyes briefly, he infused it with Nen. Aura wrapped around the rock in a thin, shimmering layer, hardening it far beyond its natural durability.
"En."
His aura expanded outward in a flawless sphere, stretching thirty meters in all directions. Every vibration, every movement within that range flowed back to him instantly.
There.
ZMMM.
The air snapped.
Sylas vanished.
In the next instant, he reappeared directly in front of an Abyss Rabbit. The creature barely had time to twitch before Sylas's arm moved.
The Nen-infused stone left his hand like a bullet.
Impact was immediate.
A perfectly circular hole pierced clean through the rabbit's skull. The body dropped without so much as a sound.
Sylas picked it up calmly, slinging it over his shoulder before continuing deeper into the cavern network.
One minute later, his En brushed against three distinct signatures.
Abyss Wolves.
"A group, huh?"
He extended his palm. Aura gathered and condensed, forming a compact red orb that pulsed with volatile energy. This wasn't something he'd gained from monster consumption. This was his own creation—modeled after techniques he admired, refined into something uniquely his.
He pulled his arm back, mimicking the same throwing motion.
Then he released.
The orb shot forward at blinding speed. The instant it struck the ground—
BOOM.
The explosion detonated with deafening force, shockwaves ripping through stone and air alike. Dust, debris, and pulverized remains scattered in every direction.
Where three wolves had stood moments earlier, nothing remained.
Sylas exhaled slowly.
"That'll do."
He turned and made his way back toward the tunnel.
—
While Sylas refined his Nen, Nagumo focused on creation.
Using his transmutation ability, he ventured outside the cave to collect various ores and stones. He studied their textures, densities, and properties, testing how each responded to his altered mana.
Explosive ores became ammunition.
Dense, resilient minerals formed the structural base of his weapon.
Piece by piece, he constructed it—modeling it after a revolver. The frame was reinforced with hardened transmuted ore, the chamber engineered to withstand both the volatile bullets and the mana he channeled through it.
It wasn't just a gun.
It was an extension of him.
By layering mana over the explosive rounds, he amplified their destructive force exponentially. Each test shot carved craters into the cavern walls, the recoil manageable only because of his enhanced physique.
Days passed in relentless iteration.
Finally, they were ready.
Sylas's gaze settled on the massive backpack strapped to Nagumo's shoulders—stitched together from the bear's hide and reinforced with bone. His eyes then drifted to the revolver resting securely in Nagumo's holster.
"You ready to move out?" Sylas asked, voice steady.
Nagumo adjusted the straps on his shoulders, red eyes sharp.
"Yeah," he replied. "Let's go clear this labyrinth."
—
Elsewhere—
Their former classmates faced turmoil of a different kind.
After the catastrophe in the Labyrinth, fear spread like wildfire. Whispers turned into arguments. Arguments became fractures in resolve.
Some students openly questioned whether they should continue at all. Others admitted they had never wanted to fight—they had simply followed the crowd.
Now that doubt had surfaced, it was easier to step back.
In the end, less than half the class remained committed to dungeon exploration and combat training against the looming threat of the demon race.
"Dammit!"
Kouki's fist slammed into the stone wall of the training grounds. Dust shook loose from the impact.
Despite carrying the title of Hero, he had been powerless.
"Kouki, stop," Shizuku said gently, stepping closer. "You can't blame yourself."
His jaw tightened.
"There was nothing we could do," she continued. "Even if we'd chased after Nagumo… no one could have survived that fall. You saw how deep it was."
Silence stretched between them.
Slowly, Kouki's fists unclenched.
"…Thanks, Shizuku," he said quietly. "I needed that."
She nodded, though her gaze drifted toward the infirmary.
Kaori still hadn't woken up.
Concern tightening her chest, Shizuku made her way down the hallway. As she passed a corner, she heard a faint voice muttering under its breath.
"No one's gonna find out… no one's gonna find out…"
"Daisuke?" she called softly. "Are you okay?"
He froze for half a second—then resumed walking, pretending he hadn't heard her.
"…What's wrong with him?" she murmured.
Moments later, she reached Kaori's room.
There was movement inside.
Carefully, she opened the door.
Kaori sat upright in her bed, staring out the window at the star-filled night sky.
"Kaori…" Shizuku whispered.
Kaori turned slowly. "Shizuku… Is Nagumo…?"
Shizuku lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry. We couldn't save him."
Silence.
Then tears slid down Kaori's cheeks.
"I promised him," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I said I'd protect him… I failed."
Shizuku said nothing at first, allowing her friend to cry.
When she finally spoke, her tone was steady but soft.
"You did everything you could. No one could have saved him. All we can do now is become stronger—so this never happens again."
Kaori wiped her eyes. The grief remained—but beneath it, something hardened.
"You're right," she said quietly. "Let's get stronger. So we don't lose anyone else."
They clasped hands in silent resolve.
—
[Name: Sylas]
[Race: Monster–Human Hybrid]
[Age: 19]
[Job: Nen User]
[Skills: Quickstep, Air Step, Aerodynamics, Energy Sickles, Limit Break, Threat Detection, Lightning Manipulation, Air Slash]
[Passive Skills: Iron Stomach, Enhanced Strength, Increased Regeneration, Pain Resistance, Enhanced Reflexes, Heightened Senses, Enhanced Durability]
To be continued…