Chapter 490: Familiarity
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 490: Familiarity
"What... what is that...?"
The Rat King stared blankly at the burgeoning shadow, his expression filled with terror.
It was Wood.
The previously dying Wood was slowly rising from the ground amidst wails of agony and despair.
His already massive frame suddenly swelled, tearing through his clothes. His exposed muscles looked like coiled pythons.
At the same time, sharp bone spurs pierced through his skin, extending bloodily from his back and joints. Thick black body hair stood up like steel needles, glinting with a cold light.
As for his hands, which had been rubbed raw and bloody against the ground, they had already transformed into hideous giant claws that easily left deep gouges in the floor.
"I... Roar..."
Reason rapidly drained from Wood’s blood-red eyes. Soon, he couldn't even articulate words, leaving only bloodthirsty instinct. Foul-smelling saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth, sizzling and corroding the floor like strong acid.
In the blink of an eye, Wood had transformed from a human into an utter monster.
Yet, he wasn't the only one turning into a beast.
Wood’s first roar acted like a command. His subordinates, who had just surrendered, suddenly fell to their knees. A similar, though slightly weaker, transformation began to take place within them as well.
This was why Muen hadn't struck immediately. The moment the mutation began, he realized this wasn't a problem that could be solved by simply lopping off a head or two.
"Is this... Beastification?"
Muen adjusted his top hat. He didn't show the same terror as the Rat King, but his eyes, hidden in the shadows, grew grim.
Whether it was Wood or his subordinates, their current appearance looked very much like the beast-transformed state of certain bloodlines.
For example, his former lackey and current friend, Amon, could transform into a werewolf under specific circumstances or external stimuli.
Then there were the hyenas that had hunted him in the Forest of Death—that was also a form of beastification.
However, Wood’s transformation felt different to Muen.
It was as if something that shouldn't exist had been added to the process, making it even more horrific and grotesque.
"Is this the gift you sent me?" Muen looked toward the Voice Transmission Stone.
"Yes. Quite nice, isn't it? Enjoy it, 'Mr.' Bruce... I hope you have a pleasant day."
Old Ghost sneered and disconnected the stone.
The rhythmic beeping of the disconnection echoed on the rooftop, mingling with the low, pained growls nearby, sounding exceptionally eerie.
"Heh, this gift certainly shows the 'depth' of his sincerity."
Muen curled his lips, but there was no mirety in his expression.
"B-Bru... Mr. Bruce, what do we do now?"
The Rat King finally snapped out of his daze and approached in a panic.
Even though he had spent a long time in the Lower District, he had zero experience dealing with monsters like these.
Thus, he could only place his hopes on the mysterious Mr. Bruce, whose true depths remained unknown.
"What do we do? Let me think..."
Muen scanned the surroundings. Although many of Wood’s subordinates had died during the Rat King’s earlier raid, there were still at least dozens of Wood’s men in this building.
All of them were turning into those monsters.
The transformation granted them a massive surge in power. The Rat King’s men, who had easily suppressed them moments ago, were suddenly locked in a bitter struggle.
Faint, shrill screams were already beginning to drift up from deep within the building.
"Retreat," Muen said suddenly.
"Eh?" The Rat King blinked. "Retreat?"
He looked around.
The midday sun cast shimmering patterns across the nearby Gulain River. Following the riverbank back, one could see busy figures still moving through the streets and alleys.
This was the most densely populated area of the Lower District; otherwise, this bar wouldn't be called the Den of Debauchery. The previous fighting and commotion had gone unnoticed by outsiders only because they were sealed off by powerful formations and something Mr. Bruce had set up.
But if these monsters escaped into the city...
"What? Are you worried about the ordinary residents?"
In his momentary distraction, the Rat King realized Muen was staring at him with a half-smile.
"No, Mr. Bruce." The Rat King lowered his head. "I just wanted to say that if we retreat like this, in the eyes of outsiders, it will look like you've bowed to Old Ghost. It will look like an act of cowardice. For your reputation, that would be..."
"Don't worry, I have no intention of bowing to that egomaniac. What I meant was, you retreat."
"Us?" The Rat King’s eyes widened. "Do you mean...?"
"Of course. Since this is a gift from Old Ghost, I naturally have to enjoy it alone to be worthy of his respect, don't I?"
Muen smiled and patted the Rat King’s shoulder. "Go on. Your men won't last much longer."
"..."
The Rat King stared intently into Muen’s eyes. This was the first time he had dared to look at him with such "disrespect." But even at this distance, he couldn't see what lay hidden behind those pupils, deep as a lake.
Yet, Muen's words carried a magic that commanded unconditional belief.
"I understand."
The Rat King bowed and immediately began barking orders to his men.
"Everyone, retreat! Seal off the perimeter, move!"
With the command issued, the Rat King’s men began a disciplined withdrawal, disengaging from the monsters.
The Rat King didn't dawdle either, leaping directly off the rooftop. With the help of his Magic Armor, this height wasn't enough to pose a threat.
"Roar..."
Nearby, the monster that had been Wood paced back and forth. It seemed to be looking for Muen’s weakness, yet it also seemed to fear something, hesitating to attack. Noticing the fleeing Rat King and his men, the monster let out a roar, its blood-red eyes locking onto the direction where the Rat King had disappeared.
But it couldn't even take a single step.
"Hey."
The calm word rang out like a casual greeting. But this simple sound made the beastified Wood, who had completely lost his mind, freeze in place, not daring to move.
A low growl vibrated in its throat. It turned its head to stare at Muen, its two sharp front claws pawing restlessly at the floor.
It began to pace again.
It was like a beast encountering another beast; it dared not act until the other made a move.
"I have to say, dealing with monsters like you... it feels familiar."
Estimating that the Rat King had successfully retreated and completely sealed off the building, Muen leisurely drew his pure white dual daggers.
As soon as the blades were unsheathed, they emitted a sharp hum, seemingly expressing their dissatisfaction with Muen using other weapons lately.
Muen gently soothed Elizabeth, his gaze falling on Wood and the other monsters that were gradually gathering, drawn by the scent of the only living thing left after losing their previous targets.
"Old Ghost’s gift is heavy, but he doesn't seem to know... I'm not that practiced at hitting people. But when it comes to hitting monsters? I'm an expert. It feels just like being back home."
Muen suddenly tightened his grip on the hilts. An imposing aura surged outward. On that deep, unfamiliar face, a savage, slightly excited grin appeared—one that hadn't been seen in a long time.
"So, family... could you be a little more enthusiastic?"
*
"President, the intelligence you asked for is here."
With a creak, the door opened. Wei'er walked into the room, wobbling under a stack of documents taller than her head.
After successfully dumping the files onto the desk in front of Celicia, Wei'er immediately began to complain with a bitter face.
"Phew, I'm exhausted. I didn't expect them to be this heavy."
"You need to exercise."
"But I'm a mage! Mages only need to study magic. Exercise is something only heretics do."
"You are a mage, but that's no excuse for the little belly you're starting to get."
"Ugh, the President's sharp tongue... it hurts..."
Wei'er looked as if she’d been struck. she rested her small head on Celicia’s desk and began to roll it back and forth out of boredom.
"Speaking of which, President, didn't you already look through these Lower District missing persons cases months ago? Why did you have me dig them up again?"
"There are still some suspicious points that need to be confirmed."
Celicia didn't look up, remaining focused on her work. She flipped through the documents at an incredible speed, occasionally pulling one or two out to categorize them elsewhere.
"You've been busy all morning."
"It's only been a morning. It's fine."
Realizing she indeed hadn't rested in a while, Celicia reached for her coffee cup.
But when her hand touched the light porcelain, she found it was already empty.
"Wei'er, coffee."
"Yes, yes... sigh, having a workaholic President is truly a misfortune for a secretary like me."
Wei'er let out a long sigh and dragged herself over to pour coffee for her President.
"The usual?"
"No. Double sugar this time."
"Double?" Wei'er was startled. "President, your usual sweetness is already—"
Celicia rubbed her temples. "I need the glucose. Stop talking and hurry up."
"Oh."
Wei'er nimbly brewed a cup of coffee with double sugar. By the time she was done, the coffee was so thick it was almost viscous. It was hard to imagine just how much sugar had been added.
Celicia took a small sip, and a hint of satisfaction appeared on her cold face. Wei'er blinked as she watched, thinking that her President actually looked a bit cute at times like this.
"Speaking of which, President, you're working so hard... you're not trying to help that scum man, are you?" Wei'er suddenly asked.
"..."
Celicia’s working posture froze. She slowly raised her head and stared at Wei'er expressionlessly.
"What do you mean by that?"
Wei'er immediately shrank back. "No... I mean... didn't you suddenly start doing this after Muen Campbell came by...?"
"You think I'm doing all this for him?"
"No... not at all... I... I..."
"Wei'er, have you been so idle lately that you've started having such nonsensical thoughts? It seems I need to find something for you to do... How about losing that belly within a month? Running ten kilometers a day should make it quite easy..."
"I was wrong! Please spare me, President!"
Wei'er dropped to her knees, apologizing with utmost sincerity.
Was she joking? For an ultimate shut-in like her, who wished she could use magic just to go for a walk, running ten kilometers a day would literally be the death of her.
"I am a Princess of the Empire. I do not do things specifically for anyone, nor do I truly favor any side."
Celicia finally looked away.
"I am doing this solely for the Empire."
"Mm-hmm, for the Empire!" Wei'er nodded obediently.
Whether that was true or not, she would just pretend it was.
Celicia suddenly stood up.
"Eh? President, where are you going? Are you done working?"
"To take a bath."
"At this hour? Why?"
"I need to go out later."
"Go out?" Wei'er’s eyes widened in shock. "But aren't you still... under house arrest? If you're caught going out..."
"Indeed, I mustn't be caught," Celicia agreed. Then she added, "But don't I have a professional mage for a secretary? Such a simple task should be a breeze for her, right?"
"Huh?" Wei'er froze. "Me?"
"Who else?"
Celicia walked straight toward the bathroom in the inner suite.
"Good luck, Miss Mage. If we're caught, I'll just get a scolding from my father. But you..."
Celicia suddenly looked back, her expression as cold and emotionless as ever.
"You might lose your head."
"..."
Celicia entered the bathroom.
The door closed.
The sound of running water began.
It took a long time for Wei'er to react. She slapped herself across the face and wailed, "Why did I have to open my big mouth... waaaah..."