The night stretched endlessly along the pitch-black Chao Phraya River. Though freshwater by nature, the air reeked of rotting fish and carried the damp, salty chill of sea winds.
Abel fought dozens of Tidal Cultists.
Some were formidable. When he’d first arrived in this city, the Cult’s leader had ambushed his overconfident self, leaving him grievously wounded.
Then that cursed white cat had stolen his belongings.
Now, prepared and ready, these cultists meant nothing to Abel. They’d fall with time—especially without their leader present.
"Demon Embrace."
Abel’s arms twisted into monstrous Demon Hands, far deadlier than any blade.
"This is my return gift for your last ambush. Tonight, I’ll let you meet the master you so desperately crave."
Without waiting for a reply, Abel surged forward like a wolf among lambs, swiftly cutting down the cultists.
Meanwhile, Shea remained untransformed. Today was for photos, not theft.
Relying on invisibility and scent-masking oil smeared over her skin—lessons learned after last time’s near-capture—she knew these cultists tracked by smell.
"This spot should work for shots."
She leapt onto a tree branch, snapped away obstructing twigs, and cleared her line of sight. Good photos for the job awaited.
Watching the one-sided slaughter below, Shea marveled at Radiant Sun Rank power. Among the dozens of cultists were Crescent Moon Rank fighters—any one could crush her, a mere Starry Rank mage, with a flick of their wrist.
Yet before Abel, they were less than dogs. He felled them in seconds.
"Since I’m not stealing today… fine."
Maintaining her black-haired, crimson-eyed appearance, Shea perched on the branch, munching sunflower seeds while observing Abel’s brutal efficiency.
It was anything but elegant. Pale flesh and viscous fluids splattered everywhere—a primitive slaughter scene.
*Nina’s idolization might shatter if she saw this,* Shea mused.
Still, undeniable beauty existed in such violence—especially with Abel’s sharp features under the moonlight.
*Plenty of girls would swoon over this,* she thought.
Not her, though. Her tastes leaned toward girls, not battlefield-hardened stinky men.
Nellie-sensei or Nina’s type would be perfect.
Pity Nellie was straight and taken.
And Nina’s princess complex? Unbearable.
Abel’s fight neared its end. Only a few Crescent Moon Rank cultists remained, barely holding on.
"Mission accomplished without real danger tonight," Shea decided. But checking her camera, she frowned.
The distance was too great. The shots were blurry.
*Nina will nag about this.*
After a moment’s thought, professionalism won. She reactivated her invisibility and crept closer.
Near the carnage, Abel gripped a cultist’s head with his Demon Hand.
"What’s your plan?"
"Our Lord will judge you… Silver Hunter…"
Even as his octopus-like brain pulsed under crushing pressure, the cultist refused to yield.
"Another stubborn fool. Die then." Frustrated by the dead end, Abel crushed the skull. Blood oozed between his demonic fingers, jelly-like brain matter squeezing out.
Ten meters behind him, Shea captured the moment.
"Whoa… my photography skills aren’t bad!"
Reviewing the shot, she grinned. Moonlight perfectly framed Abel’s sharp profile. The image radiated dark, magnetic charm.
*Nina would scream her head off seeing this.*
"Tsk tsk… actually handsome. Should I keep one? Or sell copies to the city’s fangirls?"
Fifty silver coins per copy—hundreds of buyers would line up.
Fifty coins times a hundred copies? Fifty gold. A thousand?
*More shots mean more profit!*
Her eyes practically turned into golden coins. She began scouting angles to capture twenty dazzling photos of this hunter.
As the last cultist fell, Abel sensed a lingering gaze.
His instincts screamed: someone alive remained nearby.
Only Tidal Cultists or ill-wishers prowled here at night.
*Hmph.*
He detected no visible presence—likely invisibility magic. Playing oblivious, he waited.
The gaze drew nearer. *Hooked.*
Demon Hands flared to life as Abel felt the approach behind him.
"Invisibility tricks on a Hunter? Teaching fish to swim."
Seated on the ground, Abel’s aura exploded. Like a striking viper, he whirled—massive Demon Hand lunging for the intruder.
But the sight that met him froze his motion.
The silhouette was too small. Not an adult cultist. No killing intent either. A civilian?
Abel dissolved his Demon Hand mid-swing. The momentum halted, but his palm kept moving—landing squarely on the intruder’s… stomach?
*Wait. This feels… soft?*
Curious despite himself, he gave an experimental squeeze.
"Yaaah!"
The startled cry shattered the invisibility spell.
Moonlight illuminated the grotesque scene: a grassy field littered with sea creature corpses.
Seated on the ground, the Hunter’s hand pressed against the chest of a black-haired catgirl leaning backward.
Recognizing her face, Abel forced an awkward grin.
"Evening! Lovely… flat moon tonight, isn’t it?"
Shea’s previously calm expression twisted into murderous fury.
*SMACK!*
Her camera slammed into Abel’s face.
