There I stood, staring down the looming entrance.

  The door stood tall between two moss-covered stone pillars, their ancient surfaces etched with the weight of time. The air around it hummed with a strange, almost peaceful energy, like the kind you’d find in an overgrown park—quiet, yet full of untold stories. Beside the entrance, a digital warning sign flickered softly, its neon glow casting an eerie light. It flashed the usual message: “Your life is in your own hands from here.”

  Uh huh...

  I couldn’t help but wonder, though—are there any guards around here? I mean, can Ryna really just sneak past them like that? Were they off somewhere, taking a nap or a smoke break right now? I wouldn’t blame them if they were. I mean, it only makes sense that the people in charge of justice and defense would take a breather after the Busy Hour, when things slow down, no?

  Yeah, I guess that’s it—nobody’s ever really on the clock 24/7, are they?

  Welp, I guess it was just me and the door, so I didn’t rush.

  Instead, I took my time, stretching my arms to their absolute limit—like a cat soaking up the last moments of a lazy afternoon—just to see how far I could push my own body without shifting its mass around.

  I took my sweet time with it—really, a solid minute of just stretching.

  Maybe more?

  There’s a kind of freedom in that, don’t you think?

  But in reality? I was probably just soaking up some ‘me time.’ A rare moment of peace, before diving back into whatever mess lay beyond those moss-covered pillars.

  Just as I was finally ready, the door shifted—just a fraction—like the wind itself had nudged it open, playing with the idea of revealing what lay beyond. And then, with agonizing slowness, it parted.

  What greeted me was nothing short of a waking nightmare.

  Two men stumbled forward, their bodies mangled and barely holding together—like a giant had tried to crush them but somehow botched the job. Blood clung to their clothes in messy, uneven splashes, staining them like a grotesque artist’s canvas. Their skin was a map of suffering, marred with bruises that looked like dark constellations, their patterns telling a story of pain.

  Their breathing—ragged, shallow, and uneven—sounded like the last flickers of a dying flame.

  Whatever had done this to them… it hadn’t just wanted them dead.

  It wanted them ruined!

  They collapsed onto a nearby bench, their bodies sagging under the weight of pain and exhaustion. One of them was barely holding on—his arm slung weakly around the other’s neck, not out of camaraderie, but pure, desperate survival. His legs barely moved, dragging uselessly across the ground, as if his body had already given up but his soul refused to follow.

  And his other arm?

  There wasn’t one.

  Where it should have been, there was only a gnarled, jagged stump—torn flesh and exposed bone, brutalized beyond recognition. Blood dripped in slow, sickening trails, pooling at his feet like the remnants of life slipping away.

  I let my gaze drift lazily toward them, my eyes narrowing just enough to show I’d recognized something, but not enough to show I cared. My curiosity flickered—just a little, not nearly enough to warrant a deeper thought. Looking back, I probably had some dumb, blank expression on my face at the time. But in the moment? I didn’t really care. After all, it’s only natural for moths to burn when they get too close to the mercyless flames.

  I hummed—a low, absentminded "Hm?"—more out of habit than actual concern.

  The men, voices trembling under the crushing weight of exhaustion, tried to push out words. "Can you... call for help?" one rasped, his gaze flickering toward his waist.

  Without much thought, I nodded and slipped a hand into the wounded man’s pocket, fishing out a battered smartphone.

  I still remember how to use these, huh?

  A few swipes, a tap, and the emergency line hummed in response. As the call connected, my gaze drifted back to them, my voice smooth, yet dripping with carelessness.

  "So… what happened to you two?"

  Not a demand. Just idle curiosity, rolling off my tongue like a casual melody.

  They exchanged a glance—pale faces drawn tight with exhaustion and something deeper, something closer to fear. For a moment, neither spoke. Then, with a shaky breath, one of them finally found his voice.

  "The beast inside… it was merciless. We didn’t even stand a chance."

  I tilted my head, feigning mild interest.

  "Hm? You mean that Meteorite Wannabe? The uh… bird thingy, right?"

  The one-armed man blinked at me, visibly thrown off, but he didn’t dwell on it. He was too drained, too broken for that. Instead, he simply corrected me.

  "N-no… The beast is a Kerbearus. And it’s awfully active right now."

  "It jumped us... and my friend over here did his best to stab the thing’s face with a knife."

  I glanced around them, my eyes landing on an item, shredded beyond recognition—ripped clean in half, as if crushed between two cosmic boulders.

  "It started mauling us... we barely got out alive." His voice trembled with the weight of the memory, but he pressed on, determined to describe the horror.

  "It has three heads. So, three rows of teeth. Its eyes? An empty whie... T-they—"

  He stopped, almost shuddering, before continuing with a tone laced in dread.

  "Those eyes... they didn’t just maul your flesh. They tore at your soul. And its jaws... it wasn’t just hunger. It was rage."

  "W-woah..." A half-baked sound escaped my lips.

  Impressive?

  Not quite...

  But for them it was clearly something catastrophic, the guy looked like he had gone ten rounds in there, not just one.

  Meanwhile I was standing still, watching a grown man sob like some tragic character in a movie.

  Definitely not a pretty sight.

  The last thing I remember was those two men shooting me a disgusted look through tears—they were likely questioning my sanity too—as they were hauled into the ambulance.

  Honestly, it arrived faster than I expected.

  They also probably wanted to warn me about the beast, about how the upcoming battle could very well be life-threatening. But in that moment, I could practically feel the silent judgment radiating off them.

  Yeah, they probably figured better than to warn me. Better being a euphemism for thinking, “The world would be a whole lot better off without emotionless freaks like this one.”

  And you know what? I couldn’t agree more, If I were them, I’d probably think the same thing!

  And so, I waltzed through the door, with no grace whatsoever, as if the gates of hell themselves had swung open before me—and I was the great guest of honor.

  Perhaps I would cross paths with one of those TERRORDACTYLS Kai had mentioned before!

  Now, you probs wonder why I was so hyped about this expedition.

  You see, earlier that day the dwarf-man joined us for a second round of coffee, so I delayed my ruinous visit for a second round of cola—and hey, in exchange for our company, the drinks were all on him.

  We started with the obvious—the Crystal Lily—but he just blinked, clueless. That left us marinating in awkward silence until I casually mentioned my plans to go dungeon-diving.

  And just like that, he lit up.

  His whole demeanor shifted, eyes gleaming like I'd just handed him the keys to a treasure vault, teaching us that some monsters are like gold mines for anyone who regularly crosses them cursed doors.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  He went on and on about it—something about if it’s too expensive, go ask the bank, blah-blah-blah. But what caught my attention was the bit about monsters having cores, gems, hearts, and various organs that can be harvested and sold for a ridiculous amount of money.

  So cores...

  Yeah, he was burning with the passion of life when talking about them!

  These pulsating jewels, alive with an eerie, unsettling energy, were the monsters’ lifeblood. They weren’t like the hearts you read about in anatomy books, but they sure did the same job. The bigger the threat, the larger and more radiant the core—each one a miniature star, humming with power. They practically radiated energy, capable of effortlessly powering entire mansions for years on end, just with a single surge.

  "Solar panels—who?" I couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my lips. The thought of depending on something as mundane as sunlight felt downright laughable in the face of such living, breathing batteries.

  Now, let’s circle back to our soon-to-be friend, yeah?

  The Kerbearus, as the name kind of suggests—Ker-bear-us—is basically a three-headed bear.

  "Wow, so original Mr.Author..."

  Anyway, these grotesque abominations look like that because they failed to master the art of magical shaping.

  The result?

  An uninspired chimera that’s as ugly as it is dangerous, with one head sitting where it should—right in the middle—and then two extra, grotesque heads jutting out from each shoulder.

  The space around me seemed to dissolve, nauseatingly, if I’m being honest.

  The once-blue skies began to shimmer, becoming oddly transparent, like someone had done a shoddy job of editing the scene—revealing the vast expanse of the cosmos beyond, with its glittering stars. The air felt sharp, crisp, tinged with the sickly sweet scent of ozone and decay. The vastness seemed to stretch on forever, an abyss eager to swallow everything in sight.

  But it wasn’t the sky that drew my focus—it was the grotesque scene unfolding before me, pulling my attention with a sickening inevitability.

  The beast we were just talking about? It was devouring with a savage hunger. Its gnarled claws dug into the torso of a fallen man, ripping through flesh with each sickening tear. The stench of fresh blood hung heavy in the air, sharp and metallic. The beast's feral growls filled the silence, completely drowning out the faint whisper of the wind in the distance.

  I watched in quiet detachment, the brutal scene settling into mine mind like a dark stain.

  "So, those two guys were actually a party of three, huh?" I murmured, my voice barely more than a breath. There was no anger in my words, just a cold, clinical curiosity—like a passive observer watching the inevitable unfold. Why would I be angry? Or in any rush? Neither would bring the dead back, after all.

  But no rush doesn’t mean inactivity. After confirming I was as ready as I could be—or whatever that feeling’s called—I blitzed forward, soundless, beneath the abomination’s gaping maw.

  My movements were sharp, fast, like a shadow slicing through the air.

  With a sudden, explosive motion, I slammed my forehead into the creature's chin. The sickening crack of its jaw echoed like a thunderclap, and the sheer force sent the beast flying for a hefty, suspended moment. It hung in the air, like a ragdoll caught in a cruel wind.

  There was just one thing about that scene…

  I hadn’t actually been in the thick of it—I was watching from a distance.

  That damned thing… it had reacted. Using the very momentum of its launch, it twisted midair, claws glinting with murderous intent, and—BAM!—my head was sent flying, as if an explosion detonated inside my mouth!

  A sickening force.

  A clean cut.

  My body stood there, headless, as if dumbfounded.

  Honestly?

  I was a little surprised.

  But it wasn’t that big of a deal.

  As my head hit the ground, black tendrils lashed out, writhing like living wires, snagging my severed noggin mid-fall in a grotesque display of raw power.

  The next moment—shlurp!—he pulled me right back onto his neck, good as new.

  The missing head reattached, embracing the abyss as though it had never been severed.

  He rolled his shoulders, then flexed his jaw to check if he had full control.

  After a full minute a brutal thud reached the ground, the beast slammed back to the earth, landing on its back with a resonant crack that split the silence. It let out a roar—a shrill, horrific sound that tore through the air, so powerful and ear-piercing that it would effortlessly rival the roar of the limousine-lizards of the outside world.

  The beast shook itself off and rose back to its feet, snarling.

  "Cool, cool. Guess we’re fightin'this."

  He raised his hands, reshaping them into my beloved blades, never breaking eye contact with the beast. A shit-eating grin rose on his face. I was pretty sure the sun was shining way too intensely off his teeth, mocking him with every flash.

  That didn’t matter. He blitzed forward, like one of those cool samurais who are just too damn good for their world. In a blink, he was behind the beast. He was fast—a little too fast, a time frame so minuscule it might as well have been a mathematical anomaly: less than -2.31e74 seconds.

  The problem? He couldn’t keep up with his own momentum. And honestly, I couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t had nearly as much time to get used to this speed as I had. Nor was he willing to strip away as much of his humanity as I did to master it.

  His body slammed into a boulder with the force of a shooting star, reducing him to nothing more than a grotesque smear of darkness against the stone.

  Not that it mattered. After all, he was my body, and death... was nothing more than an inconvenient pause. His form reconstructed itself instantly, flesh stitching back together as if reality had simply hit the undo button.

  He slowly turned around, smug as hell, pride practically radiating off him. The beast, still standing there, turned its head to him—confused. I swear I could almost see a question mark hovering over its dumb skull. Maybe we were losing it.

  As for the damage?

  Did he... miss?

  But then... swoooosh.

  The head on its left shoulder slid clean off.

  "About damn time!" He yelled, frustration bubbling up at the lack immediate reaction from reality itself.

  Seriously, I thought he missed!

  The beast screamed again, a howl that I don’t need to explain—you already know the kind of screech these things make before they try to run off.

  To my surprise, though, the beast gave up on standing on two legs. Instead of running, it dropped to all fours and launched itself at him with zero hesitation.

  Head-first, no less, or should I say heads-first, heh.

  Okay.

  Easy dodge for him, but I was surprised, nonetheless. After a solid smack and a perfectly timed slash, the damn thing still wanted to keep going.

  Next, he elongated his fingers, shifting weight from his stomach, into long, thin, mega-sharp tentacles. Hell yeah, he was wielding some crazy-ass whips now. He swung one around, trying to look all intimidating—but instead, he accidentally sliced the surrounding flora into dust.

  "Ooopsie..."

  The beast stared at him, almost as if it facepalmed.

  Embarrassment swallowed him whole, and he couldn't hold back: "You're about to fucking die, and you have guts to facepalm at my accident!? How arrogant! H-How... RUDE!", he screamed.

  So, naturally, he took out the other head.

  He pulled some of him mass back from the tentacles, shifting them into tendrils instead. From his elbows, blades extended, and even a shark fin emerged from his back—going all-out to drill some fear into this creature’s bones.

  I won’t stop until I teach it fear. — is what he was thinking, I bet it!

  But, of course, the beast had to continue its mockery.

  How? It prepared for another fucking attack. I shit you not.

  There he was, sitting there like some half-god abomination, a being capable of eradicating entire universes (okay, unwillingly, but still)—yet reduced to a joke by a brain-dead monster with negative IQ!

  How embarassing...

  He started cycling through every weapon in my arsenal: swords, wings, bigger swords, jagged wings, tentacles, an array of swords, claws, fangs, ginormous swords, and even a near-full-on devil transformation complete with tendrils. The options were practically endless!

  More s-sw-swords... You know, maybe I should ease up on the whole sword obsession...

  But even after unveiling my full arsenal, the beast just stood there, silently, like it was some sort of spectator to my chaotic performance.

  I bet that if it had tea and biscuits, it would just sit back and watch him like some kind of movie!

  After the tea party was over, he decided to call it quits and end the farce already.

  Honestly, I was getting tired of the whole thing too!

  I had better plans—like checking out the Golem's ruin. If it was still there, he could grab the half-broken core.

  Sure, it wouldn't fetch full price, but hey, "L'argent c'est de l'argent" after all!

  Don’t ask...

  I just came up with that.

  It’s a totally fictional language, by the way.

  Don’t go looking for a translation!

  It doesn’t exist!!!

  And if you do try to, I’ll just gaslight everyone into thinking it’s all made up.

  You’re welcome in advance!

  So, I found him back at square one: the moon swords. One side was sharp, the other straight. But it was that mysterious, celestial vibe that really got him—like it was silently screaming, "I’m cooler than I look."

  The beast felt the shift in the air, its time running out. Finally, it tried to flee—some reaction at last! But it wasn’t fear; it was more like panic or hurry. He sent out a tendril to snag its leg, sending the creature crashing to the ground, its jaw slamming into the earth with a sickening thud.

  “Here, money-money-money,” he chanted maniacally, as if calling a stray cat or casting the greatest magic spell known to humankind—ever!

  The game was over anyway.

  It didn’t want to give him what he wanted, so he stopped playing and moved on to the next goal.

  Simple, right?

  The creature drove a jagged claw into the dirt, its body convulsing in one last, frantic bid for escape. Every sinew in its four limbs coiled and strained, muscles rippling with such force that its own bones snapped like brittle twigs, each sickening crack echoing through the air. Desperation fueled its struggle, but it was all for nothing.

  He didn’t allow it to gain even a single centimeter of distance—its fate was already sealed.

  He never lifted his eyes from the creature, unblinking—like a psychotique yandere who finally caught her beloved prey under her crotch.

  Just barely audible, his voice slipped out, carrying an eerie sense of inevitability. "Money, money, money..." The chant came from his lips like a dangerous lullaby, each word thick with an unsettling calm. It hung in the air, oppressive and foreboding, until it was finally over.

  He slid his sword within its neck to put an end to that shitty one-sided play—the winning side was the beast's as it refused to showcase any proper emotion TO THE VERY GOD-DAMNED END!

  The butchering was swift and merciless. His hands moved with chilling precision, the giant blades slicing through the creature’s flesh as though it were little more than paper. Blood sprayed, painting the air and the ground in violent strokes, but he remained unbothered. He was methodical, disassembling the beast with a terrifying calm—each incision an act of calculated dissection. The creature’s body spasmed with every brutal strike, but its soul had long since abandoned, leaving only a hollow shell to be abused.

  Finally, after tearing through layers of muscle and sinew, his fingers brushed against something solid—a lump, something more than mere organ or bone. He paused, his molten eyes narrowing with an almost predatory curiosity. With an eerie, tender touch, he wrapped the heart-shaped gem in a blanket of liquid darkness.

  With a sickening snap, he wrenched it from the creature’s chest, the fleshy remnants spilling as the jewel was freed from its prison.

  He inspected the gem carefully, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips—a flash of twisted amusement in that crazy calmness.

  "MONEY!"

  6. BIG, FAT, COLOSSAL CHANGES!

  Now, I didn't go off changing the timeline, the characters and the order in which they appear!

  I did however add some foreshadowing, alongside extra details and fixes.

  I'd still suggest re-reading it...

  sorry...

  Restructure & fix: The fit within the page is now better.

  It no longer starts with "I decided", "I played a role" then transitions "Lucifer did", "Lucifer went". Now it's constant throughout the entire story!

  Re-read chapter 2. [Re:Beginning]. The fight with the Golem changed, there are new details too...

  The dungeon: It is no longer descending into the ground, instead it's a different dimension connected with the main world trhough the 'doors'.

  In Chapter 3. [A larger scale], the dialogue between Seeker and Fiery had changed...

  Chapters [Fresh air] & [Coins in motion] changed to [Fresh cash].

  Chapters [Sickness] & [Blessing] are fused into one singular chapter: [Blessing]

  Chapter 7. [Avatars] had been re-explained - PROPERLY THIS TIME!

  Chapter 8. [A careful moment] had no changes.

  The library chapter has been removed. I have planned for its removal since I posted it, tbh, I didn't like it. Sorry.

  Lucifer's book [History facts] had been simply moved into Reina's apartment, in one of her shelves.

  As for more information they originally got, it has now been received from the Dwarf's pawnshop.