Monster Battle Royale!!

"Mon, monster battle? What's that?!"

"Red Wing said it herself, right? That she wanted to take down some amazing monster or villain to get attention."

"Yeah! That's right."

"I don't know why she wants attention, but whatever—they're all the same. Heroes are total attention whores."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Hmm... that's not wrong either."

"Take a look at the central screen."

The central monitor was dominated by a photo of a grotesque creature, like a nightmare of the deep sea mashed together. A massive octopus head sprouted dozens of sharp squid tentacles in a horrifying form. Its skin glistened with slime, and the suckers studding it were lined with circular rows of razor teeth.

"Eugh, that's so gross! Why so many legs?!"

Red Wing recoiled in disgust, taking a step back. But then she eyed the wriggling tentacles and muttered under her breath.

"... Hmph, grilled crispy, it'd probably be chewy and delicious."

"Actually tastes great. Tons of shops struck gold with Kraken legs. They all shut down eventually—supply issues."

I clicked the mouse, pulling up dense blocks of text data beside the photo.

"13 years ago, the 13th Atlantis gate opened off Jagalchi Market in Busan. That's the monster that crawled out—codename Kraken. Being ocean-adjacent, we couldn't fully exterminate it. Just hacked off a few legs and shoved it back through the rift. That gate hasn't opened once since."

"Hmph, that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠squid-octopus punk! If this body had been there, it'd be takoyaki in seconds!"

"Exactly."

I tapped the Kraken's head onscreen with my finger.

"Just beating down local thug villains or lame monsters won't cut it for attention, right?"

"Th-then?"

"Key is narrative and aggro. 'Atlantis monster Kraken returns after 13 years!' That's the story hook. Add 'Dragon vs. giant Kraken: monster battle!' for the clickbait. Boom—eyes glued."

I paused there, putting on a grave expression for effect.

"And finally, a dash of spice. Some stimulating crisis staging with the tentacles... you know?"

"Stimulating staging?"

"Heroes shine brightest overcoming trials. Just steamrolling with overwhelming power is boring. So early on, show yourself struggling—wrapped tight in those slimy, thick tentacles, thrashing around. Rip the clothes a bit, scream in agony."

The moment I finished, Red Wing's tail went ramrod straight.

"Y-you fiend!! This noble dragon body, bound by sticky, filthy legs?! And torn clothes?! First you rudely pry for my true name, now this! Sin-u, you're a total pervert!!"

"Pervert? Call it pro producing—nailing public demand. Anyway, it's my Materialization of Imagination, so no real slime, no real squeeze. Just play along nicely."

"N-no way! Absolutely not!"

"Fine, then I'm out. If we're doing it, do it right—or I wouldn't have dragged you here. You want the spotlight, don't you?"

"Th-that's true, but... that's cheating!!"

In the end, Red Wing swallowed her indignation and nodded. What choice did she have? I was top dog here; she was the pup.

"Good. Deal's done—next phase."

I opened the desk drawer and pulled out a coiled yellow measuring tape. The rustling as it unspooled made Red Wing flinch, hugging her chest with both arms.

"Wh-what's that? That yellow rope thing!"

"Nothing big. Just measuring your dimensions."

"D-dimensions?! You gonna touch this body?!"

"Not dying to. And I won't graze a single scale—quit freaking out."

I stood, stretching the tape taut.

"My Materialization of Imagination is non-physical visual illusion. For tentacles wrapping you or you 'falling,' I need perfect collision math between illusion and your body. Say a tentacle coils your waist but clips through your gut? Instant fake-villain scandal. Normies don't know about villain proxies."

"Hmmm... can't have that. It'd tarnish this body's perfect retirement stage."

"Right? So I need precise body data in my head. Arms out."

She still looked grumpy but couldn't counter the logic, so she spread her arms hesitantly. I started at shoulder width, then wing base from the scapula, waist circumference, horn angles, tail thickness—measured meticulously.

"Eep! Careful with the tail!"

"Hold still. You get mad, it swells—data's all over the place."

We bickered the whole time, but eventually I finished, sat back down, and hammered the data into the simulation program. A simple 3D model mimicking Red Wing's form took shape onscreen.

"Let's see... basic data's solid. Final step."

I stopped typing and glanced back.

"Told you—monster battle. Gotta go full dragon. Polymorph—you know it, right?"

"...Huh? Polymorph?"

"Yeah. Plan's you struggle ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in human form early, then polymorph to full dragon and wrap up the monster clash."

Body-altering euneng users—especially dragon/ wyrm types—could basically polymorph by default. Usually dragon-to-human, but Red Wing's ilk weren't real dragons. Reverse it: human-to-dragon. Hiding wings normally? Partial polymorph. Given how she casually wrecked the Mountainside Pavilion pillar and mana barrier, full dragon form would match Kraken size easy.

"Th-that's...!"

"Why the stutter? You can do it, right? Not... nah."

"N-not that I can't—I won't!! Reveal true form in city center, overflowing mana alone collapses every building nearby! Holding back for you fragile humans!"

Sounded plausible, but she was sweating bullets. The rambling just amplified the suspicion.

Groooowl!!

Right as doubt swelled, a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thunderous rumble echoed. Source: Red Wing's deflated gut.

Dead silence, then her face exploded beet red.

"Hungry?"

"A-hem!! F-from flying you around earlier!! A-and this form's too starved—can't muster true form even if I wanted!"

Lame lie, through and through. No point pressing; truth wouldn't spill from those lips. Maybe half-baked euneng couldn't full polymorph. No biggie—fake it with illusions.

"Sigh, fine. Dinner time anyway. This'll take hours, so eat up."

"Ooh! You're buying?"

"You broke?"

"Yup! Unemployed, no cash! Flat broke!"

"Brag much?"

I headed upstairs via the basement stairs. House felt eerily quiet. Told her to order delivery, but the living room sofa sat empty. Bad vibes—I cracked open Si-yeon's firmly shut door.

Dim room, bed topped by a round lump buried under blankets to the neck.

Fever again...

Si-yeon's been frail since kidhood. Constant sniffles, chronic fatigue and fevers cycling.

I swallowed a quiet sigh, backed out slow, shut the door soft. Fired up the delivery app, ordered from our usual chicken joint. Dad always brought chicken for her fevers. Oil-frying scent never failed to launch her out of bed.

Twenty minutes later, worn doorbell buzzed—chicken arrived. I portioned some for Si-yeon, headed back down.

"Starving, right? Dig in."

Back in the basement, I plunked the savory, oily box dead center desk. Red Wing's pupils blew wide, drool pooling at her lips from the aroma.

"Ooo... what is this intense scent?!"

"Ordered the bony kind. Don't wolf it whole."

I handed her plastic gloves, flung the box open. Golden-fried drumsticks and glossy saucy wings gleamed invitingly.

But spotting the chicken, Red Wing froze. Gloved hand halted mid-air, face drained white, then she toppled backward flat.

"Hiiiik?! Th-this is!!"

"What? Hate chicken? No such thing exists."

"C-corpse! Dinosaur corpse!!"

She scrambled to the corner, ducking behind the sofa, trembling.

"Forcing cannibalism on this body! Sin-u, you're a devil!!"

"Uh? It's chicken. Cluck cluck."

"Bird skeleton matches theropod dinos perfect—birds are dino survivors, saw it on YouTube!! Dragons and dinos are close kin!! Eat my cousin's carcass?!"

She thrust her shaking phone at me, YouTube queued.

"... "

Ignored basic education, crammed with useless trivia.

"For real not eating? I'll solo it. Or take to sis?"

"No eat! C-can't!!"

Groooowl!!!

Her navel screamed.

"Objectively? Dinos ate dinos. Birds eat birds. Who says dragons and dinos are kin?"

"N-not...? Video said..."

"Hell no!! Dragons are unique 4th-realm lifeforms—no link to Earth dinos."

"R-really? This body can eat chicken???"

"Yup. Before it cools."

Need her fed to test dragon form outside later. No hunger excuses then.

"O-okay! Itadakimasu!"

Dilemma forgotten clean. Red Wing demolished the chicken—name kinda like her hero alias—in seconds.

"D-delicious! Humans chow this daily?!!"

Watching her sauce-smeared, bone-crunching frenzy... stirred old memories.

"Hey, don't eat all the legs."

"Hm?"

"No, don't hog all the legs!"