Chapter 29: The Secrets Sealed in Flesh

Arc slammed into the wall of the ruined ghost town's chapel, his muscles burning with exhaustion. The abomination lunged again, faster and more brutal than before. Its claws whistled through the air as it attacked like a starving animal—but there was more to it now. Its strikes were becoming precise, tactical, as if centuries of dormant instincts were awakening all at once.

Arc blocked a crushing blow with his forearm, though the sheer force sent a tremor through his bones. He gritted his teeth. Something about this monster—it wasn't just mindless fury or evolution. There was a reason it had been locked away for 300 years.

The creature snarled, throwing another deadly swipe at his torso. Arc rolled out of the way, landing in a crouch. His heart hammered, and he used a brief second to scan the creature's status with his perception skill. His vision flickered, and the numbers on the panel sent a chill through him.

Beast Status

Strength: 720

Agility: 610

Dexterity: 530

Perception: ???

Mana: 1500

Experiment #017: Bio-Subject Vargus

Class: Regenerative Abomination

Condition: Weakened by containment. Active reconstruction underway.

Threat Level: Critical.

Notes: Subject was a failed attempt at creating an immortal soldier. Evolved traits include animalistic behavior, unmatched physical strength, adaptive learning, and infinite regenerative capabilities unless the core binding fails.

Arc's jaw clenched. This thing wasn't just some rogue mutant—it was an experiment, twisted science left to rot in a forgotten vault. That explained why it had adapted to him so easily. It had been engineered to grow stronger with every encounter, to become the perfect killing machine through repeated death and resurrection. He wasn't just fighting a monster. He was fighting a product of mad ambition—a weapon that was never meant to stop.

The beast—no, Vargus—snarled as bone fragments and torn muscle reknitted beneath its cracked, leathery skin. The black ichor seeping from its wounds hardened like armor, making each encounter more difficult. The abomination's regenerative power wasn't just some freak occurrence. It was the result of twisted science—and it had no intention of letting Arc walk away alive.

A Monstrous Past Resurfaces

Arc leapt back, narrowly dodging a lunging attack. His breath came heavy, and his thoughts churned. Who created this thing? Why was it sealed for centuries? And if it was meant to be the perfect soldier, why had it been left here, abandoned?

He knew the answer. Projects like these always got out of hand—monsters too dangerous even for their creators. They were sealed away in hopes they'd be forgotten, their horrors buried in the dust of history. But nothing stayed buried forever.

Arc smirked bitterly, the irony not lost on him. He wasn't that different. Another pawn in a grand scheme, another product forced to evolve through struggle. He, too, had been shaped by others—systems, missions, challenges beyond his control. But unlike Vargus, Arc still had a choice. He would evolve not as a weapon, but as something more.

And he was going to finish this.

Adaptation Meets Rage

Arc's thoughts sharpened as he dropped into a combat stance. He could feel his mind working at a new level, the result of his own evolving skills and the thrill of the fight. There was no fear left, only calculation. His martial instincts flowed together—styles learned from every corner of the world, blending perfectly. Capoeira spins transitioned into Muay Thai knees, Systema joint locks led to Krav Maga strikes.

Every move was a lesson, every exchange a chance to grow. Arc's body adapted to the beast's new patterns as if by instinct. His strikes grew more precise, more deliberate.

Vargus roared, charging once more, but this time Arc was ready. He sidestepped at the last second, using the monster's momentum against it. With a brutal sweep of his leg, he sent the abomination crashing into the cracked floor of the ruined building.

Without wasting a second, Arc moved—faster than before, stronger than ever. His muscles sang with newfound power, and his strikes landed with terrifying force. A high kick connected with Vargus' jaw, shattering bone. The creature staggered but didn't fall. Arc followed with a palm strike to its throat and a vicious elbow to the temple.

The beast snarled in pain, clawing wildly. Arc ducked low, evading the strikes by inches. The longer the fight dragged on, the better he became—and he could feel it. He wasn't just reacting to Vargus' movements anymore. He was predicting them.

He could win this fight. He could beat the beast at its own game.

30 Minutes of Hell

Time stretched into eternity. They fought like animals—two predators refusing to yield. Vargus relied on brute force, tearing through walls and ripping chunks of earth as it fought. But Arc's strength had grown beyond anything human. His status had tripled since the battle began, and now every punch, every kick, was backed by the force of a thousand tons.

The air smelled of blood and dust. Buildings crumbled around them as they clashed over and over, neither gaining a decisive upper hand. Arc could feel his body screaming for rest—his muscles torn, his bones aching. But he pushed through the pain.

This was evolution. This was survival. He wasn't going to stop now, not when he was so close to something greater.

Then, at last, Arc saw his chance. With one final burst of strength, he vaulted over the abomination's head, twisting midair to deliver a devastating heel kick to its exposed spine. Vargus crashed to the ground, convulsing violently. Arc drove his knife into the creature's chest and twisted it deep.

The abomination let out a final, ear-splitting shriek—and then went still.

The Abomination Revives

Arc leaned on his knees, panting. His vision blurred with exhaustion, but the fight seemed over. Vargus lay motionless in the rubble, black ichor pooling beneath its body.

He allowed himself a brief moment of relief. It was over—or so he thought.

Then the ground trembled. The black ichor flowed back into the abomination's body, and with a sickening squelch, the creature began to rise.

Arc's heart sank. "No… you've got to be kidding me."

The beast's wounds sealed shut as it stood once more, even stronger than before. Its eyes glowed brighter—fierce and defiant.

Vargus let out a low growl, a twisted grin spreading across its monstrous face. The message was clear: No matter how many times you kill me, I'll just come back.

Arc wiped the blood from his brow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself.

"Alright then," he whispered. "Let's see how many lives you've got."