Chapter 16:The Hunter

Chapter 16:The Hunter

The night was as crimson as blood, so silent it felt as if the entire world had held its breath.

Bathed in the blood-red moonlight, Tom's pores tingled in pleasure as he greedily absorbed the pure energy of the blood moon.

The air reeked of werewolf stench. Blood dripped onto the withered leaves, seeping into dark stains.

The werewolf that had yet to fall witnessed the moment its companion was torn apart. Instincts made it hesitate for a brief second before its spine arched sharply. A deep growl rumbled from its throat as its sharp claws sliced through the air with a chilling whistle—lunging straight for Tom's throat!

Fast—unbelievably fast!

But Tom was faster.

Under the blood moon, his figure seemed to meld with the darkness. With a sudden step, he eerily sidestepped half a pace, evading the werewolf's attack. In the same motion, his claws—like blades—ripped viciously into the creature's side!

"Awooo—!"

A pained, piercing howl rang through the night. The massive body crashed to the ground, rolling and struggling, but before it could turn over, Tom was already upon it. His hands, like iron pincers, clamped around its throat. In the depths of his pupils, the blood moon's glow flickered.

"It's over."

His voice was low and indifferent. His grip tightened.

"Crack—"

The werewolf's neck twisted unnaturally. It twitched once before going completely still—lifeless.

(Emotion Value +200)

Blood spurted out, splattering across Tom's arms. He lowered his head, staring at the werewolf blood in his palm. Suddenly, a wild, buzzing sensation erupted in his mind.

It was as if… something was awakening.

His heart pounded like thunder. His blood surged. He could feel a force rising from within—a power climbing higher and higher, every bone, every muscle burning as if he had devoured not just the werewolves' lives, but their strength as well!

His werewolf bloodline… was becoming stronger.

Yet, at the same time, something seemed to slip away from him.

He wasn't sure what it was, but he vaguely felt his mind dulling—while his craving for blood and slaughter grew sharper.

Not far away, Elizabeth watched everything unfold, her expression complex.

Tom was changing too fast.

In just one night, he was no longer the same Tom she knew. The way he fought, the way he hunted—even the look in his eyes—it all radiated an unfamiliar wildness, a dangerous aura.

"…Are you okay?" she finally asked, her voice tinged with cautious hesitation.

But Tom didn't know that Elizabeth had been taught since childhood that all monsters were rotten to the core. And right now, he looked just like one.

Tom fell silent for a moment before slowly withdrawing his hand. He stood up, turning to glance at her. Even after spending some time together, he still couldn't help but be struck by her beauty.

Perhaps due to the battle, a smear of fresh blood streaked across her face, her hair slightly disheveled, and a few bandages adorned her body. But none of it diminished her beauty. If anything, it added a raw, captivating allure—one that stirred a sense of protectiveness.

"I'm fine."

His voice was hoarse, yet it carried an indescribable weight, making Elizabeth's heart tighten.

The blood moon still hung high in the sky. A faint metallic scent lingered in the air. Tom took a deep breath before turning to gaze into the darkness of the forest.

"There are more werewolves here than just these two."

Elizabeth's eyes flickered. "What are you planning to do?"

Tom licked the corner of his lips, a dangerous smile curling at his mouth.

"Hunt."

Elizabeth froze.

"Are you insane?!" she hissed. "We should be leaving while we still can, not going after those things!"

Tom turned to her, his gaze deep and steady.

"You think we can escape?"

Elizabeth was momentarily speechless.

He was right. They were already trapped.

This world, shrouded under the blood moon, reeked of eerie danger at every turn. They had no idea how to leave—nor did they understand the rules of this space. In such a situation, without enough power, they could become prey at any moment.

And right now, Tom was getting stronger…

Killing werewolves purified his bloodline.

But at the same time, it was making him love the slaughter. That fleeting joy in his eyes after each kill—it wasn't something that could be faked.

Elizabeth's chest tightened. She sensed that something was wrong—this kind of power, this kind of transformation—it was far too strange, unlike anything she had seen in any awakened individual before.

Yet, she said nothing.

She simply stared at Tom, her gaze conflicted, uncertain how to face him anymore.

Her family had always believed that all monsters should be exterminated.

So what was Tom? A man… or a monster?

This man was no longer the teammate she once had to protect.

He had become something far more terrifying than the werewolves—

A hunter.

"Keep up," Tom murmured, and in the next second, his figure flashed into the forest's depths, his steps silent—like a ghost in the night.

Elizabeth bit her lip. In the end, she still followed.

No matter what he had become, he was still her companion.

At least… for now.

⸻

In the blood-stained forest, low, heavy breaths echoed.

Three werewolves stood before an ancient stone monument, their fur bristling. Their nostrils flared, picking up the scent of fresh blood in the air.

They sensed danger.

But the danger did not come from prey.

It came from—

A hunter about to descend.

The next second, a dark shadow shot from the treetops, plummeting like death itself. Moonlight gleamed coldly off razor-sharp claws.

The blood moon illuminated Tom's airborne figure, turning his eyes blood-red. His lips curled into a mocking smirk—

Like a wolf gazing upon a flock of sheep.