Dungeon: Bovine Wrath.
Floor 1.
The sky here was crimson, as if scorched by eternal hatred. The air reeked of sulfur and testosterone. The dry earth cracked beneath my boots.
Ahead of me stood a herd of Minotaurs. Three-meter-tall behemoths, thick with muscle, wielding colossal stone axes. Their eyes glowed red—the pure manifestation of 'Wrath.'
Good.
Be angry.
Make me feel something.
"MOOOAAARRRGH!!"
The roar was full of passion. Full of purpose. That Minotaur lived for its anger. I envied it.
A massive stone axe swung toward my neck.
I didn't dodge. I felt no need to.
My left hand moved—not to block, but to kill the momentum. Like catching the swing of a pendulum.
BAM.
The vibration traveled up my arm. Simple physics. Action and reaction.
My right hand pierced its defense. Not a punch, but a spear of flesh.
CRAAAK.
Its sternum shattered into shrapnel. Its heart exploded inside the chest cavity.
Blood sprayed, hot and thick, staining the red dirt, yet sliding off my silk suit without leaving a single mark.
The creature fell. The eyes that had burned so brightly were now vacant. Just like mine.
I stood in the center of a slaughterhouse. No heavy breathing. No racing heartbeat. Just a deafening silence.
I missed the taste of fear. I missed the sting of pain. But this body simply refused to be hurt.
I pried the crystals from their chests one by one. Hot, crimson stones. Touching them, I could feel the echo of their rage. Searing. Burning.
I tossed them all into the Dimensional Bag.
Empty.
Not even this much anger could fill the hole in my chest.
[ILLUSTRATION]
[Title: The Clean Butcher
Visual: Low Angle. The MC stands casually, lighting a cigarette amidst a mountain of mangled Minotaur corpses.
Key Point: The MC's suit is completely clean and pristine, standing in stark contrast to the blood-soaked, chaotic environment. His face is deadpan/bored.]
The Southern Coast.
I didn't rent a carriage. That was too slow. I ran.
A five-hour carriage ride condensed into an hour of constant sprinting.
My heart pounded; my lungs worked at maximum capacity.
This was what I was looking for. The physical exhaustion that silenced the noise in my mind.
The ocean stretched wide. Deep blue, calm, deadly.
Target: Giant Crab.
I took off my overcoat, vest, and hat, folding them neatly atop a reef. I was left in only my white dress shirt and trousers.
I grabbed my black spear and a coil of spider-web rope.
I stepped into the water.
Freezing.
The sea swallowed my waist, then my chest, then my neck.
I dove.
The world shifted into dark blue and profound silence.
Down here, the water pressure pressed against my eardrums, muffling my own heartbeat. It was peaceful. No haggling merchants, no receptionist small talk, no footsteps. Only the consuming dark blue.
In the depths, the monster waited.
I didn't look at it as an enemy, but as an intrusion.
The scraping of its claws shattered this perfect silence. And I hated it for that.
I couldn't use the katana here. Water resistance made swift slashes impossible.
The spear was king of the depths. Aerodynamic. Piercing.
There.
The Giant Crab, lurking behind a coral reef.
I swam closer. My movements were restricted, but my strength was not.
The monster sensed my presence. Its massive pincer snapped, cutting through the water with terrifying speed.
CLANK!
I caught the pincer with the shaft of my spear. The tremor rushed through my entire body, dampened by the water.
I lashed the spider thread around the base of its claw as we locked in a test of strength.
One loop. Two loops. A dead knot.
I kicked off its shell, shooting backward, and yanked the rope.
This thread could hold fifty tons.
I swam upward, dragging the monster with me. It thrashed, creating turbulent currents, but I was stronger. I hauled it from its kingdom toward the land.
Breaking the surface, I leapt onto the beach, pulling the rope with one brutal heave.
The giant crab was launched from the water, landing upside down on the white sand.
Before it could right itself, my spear had already descended.
SHLUCK.
Straight through the gap in its mouthplates, directly into its brain.
I stood there soaking wet, staring down at the carcass.
Seawater dripped from my hair. Salty. Stinging my eyes.
Yet still... empty.