That Monster Is Me
But that monster is me.
There was a time when I had been human.
It was before I transmigrated into a novel I had never even heard of.
About a year and three months ago, give or take. I could not remember the exact date.
In truth, even the memories of when I had been human were already hazy.
The longer I lived as a monster, the more the recollections of my previous life faded away.
It seemed that the more I grew accustomed to the senses of a monster, the duller the sensations of my human days became.
Things that had once been there simply scattered and vanished.
My emotions had grown thinner than before. Because of that, emptiness always sat heavy in my chest.
If they had never existed to begin with, it might not have mattered. But losing what had originally been mine made the hollow spaces feel all the larger.
That was why I was in such a hurry to return to my original world.
I did not have much time left.
If time continued to flow like this—if the things inside me kept disappearing one by one—
"······."
Then I might reach a point where I no longer even wanted to become human again.
Surprisingly, the security of the underground prison was not as tight as I had expected.
Perhaps it was because the mercenaries who had sold Iria to the slave traders were handling the guard duty themselves.
In any case, they were not particularly strong opponents. Most of them had gone down to a single casual swing of Iria’s blade.
In the dark, damp corridor of the underground prison, silver hair swayed with every step.
She walked at a leisurely pace, a small dagger held loosely in one hand.
The reason Iria made no effort to conceal herself was simple: she was confident in her strength. Besides, once today was over, none of them would remember her anyway.
"······."
"······."
The moment Iria escaped her cell, the corridor that had briefly erupted into chaos fell into silence once more.
Even though quite a few people still remained here, that eerie hush settled over everything for several reasons.
First, some of the mercenaries had overestimated themselves and charged the monster of the back alleys, only to be knocked unconscious.
Second, everyone who had witnessed the scene had completely lost the will to fight.
She was clearly a girl smaller than any of them, yet that small figure somehow loomed enormous. The mercenaries could only tremble in terror before her razor-sharp presence.
The one fortunate thing, if it could be called that, was that Iria had not attacked them first.
The monster who had crushed every human that dared to rush her seemed to have little interest in the remaining rabble.
She swept her gaze once over the humans sprawled across the floor. From that expressionless face, so hard to read any change in, a faint chill seemed to seep out.
The look that looked down on them from above was terribly cold.
It was the gaze of someone regarding insects that could not possibly harm her.
"Nothing special."
She watched them carefully for a while, then finally turned and left.
Apparently the person she was looking for was not among them either.
And toward Iria’s retreating back, one human stretched out a hand.
It was Ibeln, the 2nd-class mercenary who had been the first to take a hit from her, black out, and only just now opened his eyes again.
He was a mage well-known even within their group.
With outstanding skill he had racked up overwhelming results in a short time and served as the organization’s de facto second-in-command.
For someone like that to be beaten so thoroughly by a girl far younger and smaller than himself—his pride could not possibly remain intact.
In the end, unable to contain his rage, he aimed a spell formula at Iria’s back.
"You monster bitch······."
Monster or not, she was still just a brat who knew nothing of the world, wasn’t she?
To turn her back on the battlefield—especially in front of a skilled mage—was arrogance beyond measure.
She might possess overwhelming physical power, but her actual combat experience had to be severely lacking.
Otherwise she would never make such a beginner’s mistake.
Mercenaries, on the other hand, were people who always risked their lives for money. From the very beginning, their mindset was completely different from hers.
So close your eyes and regret your earlier actions. That sky-piercing arrogance will be your undoing.
Thinking that, Ibeln gathered mana into his hands. An advanced military-grade spell formula carved itself into the air.
-Fwoosh!
Blue mana flickered and ignited the formula. He had maximized the mana consumption to increase its lethality.
Even a monster would not walk away unharmed if hit cleanly by this.
Just as Ibeln finished every preparation for the spell, Iria stopped in her tracks.
"If you fire that, you die."
She spoke without even fully turning her head. Her tone was as cold as ever.
Raising the dagger in her hand, she delivered the warning flatly, as if telling him to stop if he did not want to die.
But Ibeln only snorted at the sight.
He had already deployed the formula, and the distance between him and the dagger-wielding Iria was considerable.
Pierce through an advanced spell with no blind spots, close that long distance in a leap, and swing a blade? Impossible.
That was a realm beyond human capability. Therefore her words were nothing but bluff.
"How stupid. The one who’s going to die is you!"
Ibeln detonated the completed spell.
-Fwoooooosh!!
Blue flames roared up and swallowed the corridor of the underground prison whole.
Dodging was impossible. The hallway was too narrow.
The power of a 2nd-class mercenary burning every last drop of mana in his body was more than enough to fill the confined space.
That was why Ibeln was certain of victory.
Advanced fire magic burned flesh and melted bone. By now the girl who had been engulfed by those flames should have vanished without a trace.
And just as he expected, once the fire died down, Iria was nowhere to be seen in the corridor.
Only a clean hallway remained, as if nothing had ever been there at all.
"Haa, haa······. Serves you right, you idiot."
That was what happened when you strutted around in enemy territory.
Ibeln let out a rough breath, a twisted smile on his face.
And not long after, he realized something was wrong.
-Seok.
Ibeln’s field of vision spun.
He flew briefly through the air before slamming into the floor.
There had been no time to understand what had happened. He had simply closed his eyes once and opened them again. That was all. Yet when he came to his senses, his body and head had been separated.
His face was buried in the dirt. Only then did the delayed pain come flooding in.
Had his throat been cut? When?
He did not know. He probably never would.
Just before his consciousness cut out for the last time, the final things he saw were swaying silver hair and crimson eyes.
"I told you. You die."
Looking down at the severed head with icy eyes, Iria spoke while slightly furrowing her brow.
Human blood was hard to wash out once it got on clothes. That was why she had wanted to avoid unnecessary killing as much as possible.
Covered head to toe in blood, Iria looked a little displeased. She had not completely avoided the flames either; her hair and clothes were slightly scorched. That irritated her.
This was not a problem that could be solved by killing the person responsible. Doing so did not improve her mood either.
It was a transaction where both sides only lost. Iria’s mood was ruined, and he had lost his life.
That was why she had told him not to. Humans could be wise, yet at times they were also foolish.
She sighed and started walking again, only to notice something lying there.
A half-broken mirror whose presence here she could not explain. She stared at the reflection of herself within it.
"······."
What a wretched sight.
Her once pure-white hair was half-stained red with blood, and her crimson eyes glowed vividly even in the dark space.
A woman walking through the half-collapsed corridor of an underground prison, coated in blood from head to toe.
And in her hand, a blood-soaked dagger.
"What a crazy bitch."
It was exactly as she said.
No matter how she looked at it, the self reflected in the mirror did not appear normal.
Yet for some reason, Iria thought that appearance suited her perfectly.
Perhaps because she was a man-eating murderer. Or maybe it was simply the nature of someone whose monster blood ran thick.
Iria let out a bitter little laugh and continued forward.
After that, I saw no more of the guards who had been protecting the underground prison.
They had probably all run away. It seemed they had finally realized that ordinary guards could not even slow me down.
That made moving forward much more convenient. It would have been nicer if they had cleared out sooner.
Contrary to the common image of monsters, I was not particularly hostile toward humans. Unlike ordinary monsters, I possessed intelligence.
If they had just quietly let me pass, no bloodshed would have occurred at all.
Money really must be a wonderful thing.
Even as a monster living among humans, I needed money too. I could understand how they felt.
Though no matter how hard I thought about it, I still could not understand that man named Ibeln I had killed at the end.
What on earth had possessed him to try and stop me? I rested my chin on my hand and tried to seriously ponder it, then eventually gave up.
It was not the sort of question that would yield an answer just by thinking about it now. Human emotions were things you could understand one moment and find completely incomprehensible the next.
Clearing away those idle thoughts, I climbed the stairs.
Was this the first basement floor? Once I passed through that corridor ahead, I would be able to get outside.
I quickened my steps to leave this place as soon as possible. Then I suddenly stopped right where I stood.
I had sensed killing intent.
By the time I noticed something was wrong and halted, a blade was already flying toward me.
It was an attack aimed precisely at my neck. I raised the dagger in my right hand.
-Clang!!
A heavy metallic impact rang out, and the shock traveled up the hand gripping the blade.
Against the sudden slash I took one step back and immediately counterattacked.
I spun the dagger in my grip, put strength into it, and swung. The sharp edge drew a silver arc.
-Whoosh!!
But it cut nothing. The man, sensing the danger, had already retreated at high speed.
Good instincts? Or perhaps simply excellent reaction speed.
"You blocked that?"
The middle-aged man who had swung his sword at me wore a savage grin.
I had not sensed his presence at all until he was right in front of me. An assassin-type mercenary, perhaps. At a glance he looked completely different from the ones I had seen underground.
"······."
He was looking at me. So I looked at him as well.
He was a man with a sharp impression. His body was covered in scars from countless battles, and there was no sign of his breathing being disturbed.
That alone told me enough. He was a 1st-class mercenary or higher.
But it was strange.
I had only wanted to leave. I had no particular intention of harming them.
His subordinates had bared their fangs at me first, so I had no choice but to kill them—but why was he treating me as an enemy?
Because I had caused a ruckus underground? No, that was not it. He was not even affiliated with this slave market.
Even if someone’s fortune was collapsing, it would be the slave trader’s, not his.
Yet the killing intent rolling off him was anything but ordinary.
At first I thought he was angry because I had killed his men, but looking closer, that was not it either.
His face was colored not with rage, but with greed.
So I asked.
"Why?"
He answered my question.
"Money."
"Ah."
And I understood at once. It was an even more ridiculous reason than I had imagined.
Was his life so cheap that a few coins were worth more? Or perhaps he truly believed he could defeat me.
But that was fine. After meeting his eyes, I roughly understood what kind of person he was.
And from that moment on, I had no intention of letting him live. In fact, I was glad I had run into him here.
He was the person I had been looking for.
"Beorn."
So that was his name.
I pointed the blade in my hand at Beorn.
"I’ll play with you."
I did not particularly enjoy moving my body, but for him I would make an exception. He was worth that much.
I smiled faintly.
Today was a lucky day.