“What kind of joke is this?”

Moen looked at the man standing upright before him for the first time, his lips involuntarily twitching.

Before he came, he had already imagined many scenarios and prepared himself mentally for the worst.

So he didn’t hesitate in the slightest. He rushed towards Aluka at full speed, intending to end all of this quickly.

It was about to work.

Yet the outcome still exceeded Moen’s expectations.

He hadn’t anticipated that the man, already devoured by Aluka, could somehow split away from the grotesque mass of flesh and stand in his way.

It seemed he hadn’t become one of those hundreds of faces.

Most importantly, the man himself seemed extremely powerful.

That’s right. From just that single move earlier, Moen could tell — unlike himself, who was a fledgling warrior relying on a few rudimentary tricks, the man before him was a tough warrior forged through countless battles.

And such individuals were exactly what Moen feared the most.

“Can you excuse me, bro? I have something private to discuss with your wife.”

Moen rubbed his hands together, attempting an ingratiating smile as he spoke to the man:

“Don’t worry. It’s just some conversations about peace of world and dreams — definitely healthy topics that won’t affect your marital harmony in any way. So... could I have a moment alone with your wife?”

“...” The man remained silent, so much so that Moen couldn’t even tell if those lifeless eyes were focused on him. Yet, the man stood still in his way, giving no sign of stepping aside.

“Hehe, did you think I wouldn’t notice your little moves, Mr. Moen?”

While fiercely fighting with Ann, Aluka threw a mocking glance in his direction and taunted:

“Though I don’t know what you’re up to, my instincts tell me that I can’t let you have your way. So, have a good time with my husband.

By the way, let me remind you — my husband is a bona fide Class B adventurer, and one at the very peak of that level, no less.”

“Class B.”

Moen’s heart sank heavily.

According to classifications, a Class B adventurer was at least a Tier 3 warrior, possibly even stronger.

Anyone capable of reaching the ranks as an adventurer was definitely not a weakling!

But here he was — a freshly minted Tier 2 warrior — facing off against a seasoned Tier 3. Such a level of challenge wasn’t something for anyone but the main protagonist to deal with!

Wait, where’s the protagonist? Protagonist, save me!

“How could I... be rescued.” Moen chuckled at himself bitterly.

By his calculations, the protagonist, Ariel, was probably still enduring tough but delightful training under the guidance of the elder sister’s residual soul in her magical ring, all to wow everyone at Santa Maria College.

So, no one could help him now. He’d have to rely on himself.

From the moment he chose to embark on this path, there was no turning back.

Moreover...

“I don’t think you’re still in perfect fighting condition!”

Moen growled, abruptly launching himself forward like a pouncing leopard toward the man.

Strike first to gain the upper hand!

With two short blades in hand, he attacked from cunning angles aimed at the man’s vital spots.

Moen was well aware of the disparity in power, which was why he went all out from the start in a surprise assault!

“Go to die!”

Blade lights danced, roaring like thunder.

At this moment, the man finally responded.

His eyes moved slightly, seemingly locking onto Moen.

Facing the two short blades aimed precisely at his vital points, his expression didn’t change at all.

He simply lowered his stance.

Then, Moen felt as though his vision faltered for a split-second.

It was as if a video had suddenly lagged, with two drastically different frames jarringly spliced together.

In one moment, the man was still motionless in his original spot.

In the next, he was right in front of Moen.

Extremely close.

Close enough that Moen’s stretched-out arms missed entirely, with his blades striking nothing but air.

Instead, his wrists collided heavily with the man’s shoulder.

Wrists don’t deliver much damage.

Taking advantage of this, the man’s shoulder pushed upward.

Moen’s hands jolted with pain and numbness, almost losing their grip on the blades entirely.

“What—”

Moen’s eyes widened in shock as he looked at the man standing mere inches away.

The man gazed quietly at him; in his lifeless pupils, something flickered briefly.

—In that split second.

Moen had no time to react.

He was mid-strike, caught between the force of the previous blow and the preparation for another.

And the pain in his wrists rendered him unable to immediately draw back his hands for defense.

Thus, his was fully undefended.

The man reached out and placed his hand lightly on Moen’s abdomen.

Five fingers clenched abruptly, forming a fist.

Boom!

Even though the punch wasn’t fully thrown, a deafening explosion erupted near Moen’s ears.

Instinctively, Moen looked down.

He stared in horror at his abdomen, visibly dented inwardly.

A neat semi-circle depression was carved into his flesh.

Then, the pain came crashing in waves.

Before he could even register the pain, Moen was overcome by vertigo.

With his other hand, the man grabbed Moen’s shoulder, twisting his waist and throwing him forcefully. Moen flew like a discarded ragdoll, flung far away.

“Young master!”

Ann, who had been keeping an eye on him, immediately lunged in his direction, completely ignoring Aluka. All the vibrating metal surged towards Moen, aiming to protect him.

“Hehe, master, did you think I’d let you succeed?”

Aluka sneered coldly.

She shifted her focus entirely away from Moen.

Because to her, Moen stood no chance whatsoever.

Thus, all she needed was to concentrate on dealing with her master.

And so, the roles reversed.

Ann drove the metals insanely towards Moen, desperate to rescue him.

Aluka, on the other hand, kept every ounce of attention here. Her grotesque limbs squirmed and hundreds of faces shrieking in unison, clashing repeatedly against the metallic jungle.

...

“Cough, cough.”

Moen forced himself upright, his insides churning like a storm. His internal organs felt as though they had just been through an intense full-body massage, sore and aching beyond measure.

He coughed a few times, trying to spit something out, but all that came was a mouthful of foul-smelling acidic liquid.

“Dammit, this strong?”

Moen muttered incredulously under his breath.

He had assumed that after a few days of degradation, the man wouldn’t be at full power and that he might stand a sliver of a chance.

But clearly...

He was way off.

Even if the man wasn’t at peak strength, he was far beyond what Moen — a fledgling fighter — could handle.

“I need a new plan.”

“No frontal assault. I have to rely on Shadow Step’s mobility.”

“Even if he can interrupt Shadow Step, that move likely has a set range.”

“Circle around and use the metallic pathways Ann constructed, and maybe I can bypass him.”

“But that means a quick resolution is impossible now. Especially after being thrown so far away again.”

Putting this distance between him and Aluka had shattered Moen’s hope for a swift victory.

Which meant approaching Aluka—became an uphill battle.

“Ugh, what’s the point of those plans? It ends up that I’m still too weak!”

Moen angrily punched the ground in frustration.

With his current strength, he wasn’t even close to redeeming Aluka. If the ground hadn’t been soft enough, that throw might have injured him severely just from the fall alone.

Unlike now...

Hmm?

Wait.

The ground... feels soft?

Something’s wrong.

If the man had thrown him, it should’ve sent him straight to the solid ground or perhaps onto some of the metal bridges far away from Aluka.

But neither the ground nor the metal could possibly be called soft, could they?

No way...

Moen stared blankly at the “ground” beneath him.

Slippery, secreting viscous fluids.

Beneath its translucent surface were black veins and wriggling flesh.

It was certainly soft.

Because this was part of the monster’s body, one of its massive limbs closest to its core.