"Can you feel it?"
042 spoke while marching at the head of the formation. The divine armor encasing his body would serve as the firmest shield among them.
"Yes… and it's getting stronger," 016 replied quietly. She knew exactly what he meant—the creeping emotion known as fear.
For reasons none of them could explain, the fog within the valley had grown denser and denser. Visibility was crushed beneath layers of gray haze; one could scarcely see more than a few steps ahead. And within that suffocating mist, every demon hunter could vaguely sense it—that steadily rising dread clawing its way into their minds.
It was wrong.
According to the teachings of the Demon Hunting Order, fear was merely the mind's instinctive safeguard, a warning born from consciousness itself, urging mankind away from unknown dangers.
Through brutal training, demon hunters learned to suppress emotion in pursuit of absolute rationality before monsters. Yet now, there were no demons, no corruption, no signs of erosion—
—and still, their reason was being devoured.
016 watched the surrounding mist with heightened vigilance. It felt as though something beyond demons lurked within the haze, some existence silently influencing them.
"011. Status report."
The hunters' eyes burned like torchfire within the gloom. 011 possessed the Authority of Shandafeng. Though the future he could glimpse lasted only an instant, in circumstances as unfathomable as these, even a single second might become the key to overturning a battle.
He activated his Authority periodically, serving as the team's warning bell.
"Safe."
His answer was brief.
The three hunters pressed deeper into the fog. As the gray veil thickened around them, direction itself became meaningless. Even the buildings faded into indistinct silhouettes, as though at some unnoticed moment, they had crossed into another world entirely.
In truth, that was not far from reality.
The entirety of Valley Town had long since become sealed away, completely severed from the living world. To ordinary people, it may as well have been another realm.
Then suddenly, wind surged through the valley.
The mist twisted violently, stirred by some unseen hand, scattering ashes of gray through the air.
In that very instant, a rust-covered longsword tore through the fog.
The blade reeked of rancid blood.
Its target was 016.
"Watch out!"
At that critical moment, Shandafeng's Authority fulfilled its purpose. 011 had no time to warn the others aloud, but he did not need to. His nailed sword swept upward and intercepted the sudden strike with a scream of metal.
The coordination between demon hunters revealed itself instantly.
The moment steel collided, 042 charged forward. Clad in the strongest divine armor among them, he paid no heed to whatever dangers hid inside the mist.
His nailed sword rose high overhead—
—and then came crashing down like an executioner's blade passing judgment upon death itself.
Power surged through him violently.
In many cases, demon hunters did not kill efficiently. Or rather, they chose not to.
Most hunters deliberately inflicted grotesque wounds upon their enemies, as though savoring their suffering. Yet this was neither sadism nor cruelty born of twisted pleasure.
It was done for one purpose only:
To make the enemy afraid.
Far more terrifying than defeating an enemy… was planting fear deep within their mind.
Many ordinary men who fought demon hunters were not slain by the hunters' blades.
They lost their will long before death came.
Fear was a language that transcended nations, transcended species.
The nailed sword descended cleanly.
The arm gripping the rusted blade was severed instantly, spinning into the air as torrents of blood burst outward.
042 did not stop.
He surged forward once more, breaking through the curtain of mist—
—and then he saw it.
A grotesque face emerged before his eyes.
For the briefest instant, even his unwavering conviction faltered.
The hand gripping his sword trembled slightly.
It was a strange sensation.
Similar to fear…
Yet fundamentally different.
"Fear, despite how dreadful it is, remains one of humanity's most familiar emotions."
Beyond the mist, beyond the story itself, Lloyd sat calmly upon a wooden bench as he explained to the other three.
Red Falcon's gaze carried visible impatience. He hated it when Lloyd interrupted a story at its most crucial moment to lecture about something else. Yet Lloyd either failed to notice—or simply did not care.
"It can be understood as humanity's internal warning system," he continued evenly. "It has accompanied us since the moment our species was born."
Seeing the indifferent expressions around him, Lloyd sighed softly before continuing.
"I need all of you to think carefully about this. This isn't merely a story. These are the precious hunting experiences of a demon hunter. They're unusual enough that even now, I remember them vividly."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"And perhaps one day… this story may save your lives."
Something in Lloyd's tone caused the others to straighten ever so slightly.
Meanwhile, Lloyd stared into the mist-shrouded face within the tale, his gaze heavy with confusion.
"Have any of you heard of the uncanny valley effect?"
He glanced around at his listeners. Unfortunately, none of them were nearly as absurdly well-read as Lloyd himself. After all, not everyone spent their free time sneaking into university lectures and attending every subject imaginable simply out of boredom.
"To put it simply," Lloyd said slowly, "it can loosely be categorized as a form of fear. But it's far stranger than ordinary fear. I imagine all of you have experienced something similar before."
His voice lowered.
"Perhaps you were looking at some small animal… and from a certain angle, it suddenly resembled a human."
The listeners remained silent.
"And once you notice that resemblance," Lloyd continued, "the familiar thing before you suddenly begins to feel unfamiliar. Alien. Then comes discomfort… followed by fear. Correct?"
Silence lingered until Joey finally nodded.
"The Purification Agency conducted many studies regarding mental phenomena. I vaguely remember cases like that… though perhaps not exactly the same as what you described."
Corruption targeted the mind first. Because of that, psychological research had long become one of the Agency's primary fields of study.
Seeing at least one person respond, Lloyd appeared noticeably more satisfied. At last, he understood the awkward despair professors must feel when asking questions in university lectures only to receive nothing but silence.
"Yes. To explain it more precisely—when humans perceive an object, we instinctively classify it into a single category. We don't perceive it as belonging to two categories simultaneously."
He paused briefly.
"Imagine a man covered in excessive body hair, resembling an ape."
A faint rustling echoed within the invisible fog around them, like countless insects crawling slowly through darkness.
"When you first see him," Lloyd said, "your brain will categorize him as either 'human' or 'ape.' But never both. Never some strange 'man-ape hybrid.'"
The mist shifted quietly between them.
Lloyd continued his lecture on fear.
"When a creature merely resembles a human, we classify it as 'non-human.' But what happens when that resemblance crosses a certain threshold? When it becomes almost indistinguishable from us?"
"Cats have similar species. Dogs have similar species. But humanity is different."
His voice grew quieter.
"We have no equivalents. We are unique. The only branch of our kind."
"And because of that, when something approaches humanity too closely, our minds begin to fail. We can no longer categorize it properly. Is it 'human'… or 'non-human'?"
He leaned forward slightly.
"And beneath that confusion lies something even older—a survival instinct."
"If we cannot determine whether something is truly our kin… then what awaits us is the oldest competition imaginable."
"The struggle between one human and another."
Lloyd stared intently at each of them, as though trying to pry interesting reactions from beneath their carefully composed faces.
"Demons are different. When we face demons, our fear instinct immediately recognizes them as enemies. Even if a demon looked identical to a human, our minds would not misclassify it."
"But the uncanny valley is different."
"It is unknown."
"The information it presents exists entirely outside the boundaries of human understanding."
Lloyd slowly straightened his posture and folded his hands together.
"Something similar… yet fundamentally wrong."
"A terror born from corrupted instinct and the unknown itself."
"A fear that threatens what it means for us to be human."
Within the story, 042 forcibly suppressed that bizarre dread.
He gasped heavily, raising his nailed sword to block the counterattack emerging from the mist.
Then the creature's appearance finally revealed itself.
Its face was covered in thin strands of fur. Countless wrinkles folded across its skin. Strange symbols had been painted across its flesh with filthy blood. Its skull bulged backward unnaturally, while its eye sockets sank deep inward like hollow pits.
It seemed to be staring directly at 042.
Those empty sockets resembled abysses capable of swallowing light itself.
It looked similar to humanity—
—and yet fundamentally different.
The demon hunter roared and swung his sword.
Whether driven by fear or fury, even he could not tell.
The nailed blade pierced through the creature's chest.
And crimson blood flowed slowly down the steel.