Gunshots rang out as the dinosaur horde rushed toward the people near the trucks.
Ivan remained hidden nearby the entire time, with no intention of revealing himself.
The medical staff responsible for transporting the bodies out of the building abandoned their stretchers the moment the gunfire started and ran back inside.
It seemed they had been prepared for this possibility.
Security personnel fired wildly at the dinosaurs.
But bullets struggled to hit the agile Compsognathus and Velociraptors.
Only the bulky Triceratops took direct hits.
Even then, bullets striking the Triceratops' skull barely penetrated.
And shots hitting their bodies failed to slow them down.
Before long, the battle turned into a one-sided massacre.
Some quick-thinking guards scrambled onto the trucks, trying to use the doors as shields.
But against the nimble dinosaurs, that effort was meaningless.
The Velociraptors didn't even need to kill them.
All they had to do was leave a single wound with their claws or teeth.
That alone was enough.
Ivan watched quietly.
Only when the last security guard transformed into a Velociraptor did he step out from the shadows.
Beside him stood one remaining guard, frozen under the watchful gaze of the Carcharodontosaurus.
Ivan had no intention of interrogating him inside the hospital.
Instead, he dragged the man into one of the trucks.
After starting the engine, he cleared the bodies from the cargo compartment.
Then the Carcharodontosaurus, the Oviraptor, and several Compsognathus climbed inside.
Only then did Ivan drive the truck out of the hospital.
The man sitting in the passenger seat was named Pike.
He had been the person in charge at the scene.
Ivan had noticed earlier that he had been issuing orders to the other guards.
Pike wasn't a Nen user.
The moment Ivan confirmed that, he ordered the Carcharodontosaurus to approach him.
The dinosaur didn't kill him.
It didn't even injure him.
The overwhelming killing intent carried by the dinosaur was enough to make Pike drop his gun and collapse onto the ground.
This was the natural intimidation Nen users exerted over ordinary people.
The fact that Pike hadn't collapsed mentally under that pressure already showed considerable mental strength.
Now sitting in the passenger seat, Pike's face was filled with fear and despair.
Inwardly, he cursed the hospital's security team countless times.
As the truck started moving, more dinosaurs outside slipped silently into the surrounding woods.
Occasionally a Velociraptor could be seen sprinting alongside the road.
The Triceratops, however, had all been abandoned by Ivan.
Partly because they had taken injuries.
More importantly, their heavy footsteps would easily attract attention and make tracking them easier.
The truck accelerated down the road.
Not long after leaving the hospital, Ivan saw a convoy of police cars rushing toward the hospital with sirens blaring loudly in the night.
At first, he worried they might stop him.
But after driving past them without incident, he relaxed slightly.
"Talk," Ivan said while keeping an eye on the road.
"Where are the bodies in the truck supposed to be delivered?"
Ivan no longer had any tennis balls left.
That left him feeling slightly uneasy.
Tennis balls had never been ideal projectiles, but they had been the most convenient objects he could find earlier.
In truth, he believed billiard balls or shot puts would be far better substitutes.
Billiard balls were portable and easy to collect in large quantities.
Shot puts, on the other hand, felt closer to the steel balls he had used before his transmigration.
Even without Spin, a direct hit with one could cause serious damage.
Unfortunately, he hadn't encountered any billiard halls earlier, and sporting goods stores hadn't sold shot puts.
So tennis balls had been his temporary solution.
Now, though, he was starting to hope he could find a billiard hall and stock up.
Pike didn't dare move.
He could feel warm breath against his neck.
The dinosaur behind him was issuing a silent warning.
Pike was certain that if he had made the slightest suspicious move when they passed the police earlier, the dinosaur's claws would have torn his throat open.
"Kojima," Pike stammered.
"The cargo gets delivered regularly to Kojima Foods. They have people there who handle the processing."
He swallowed nervously.
"Also… not all the bags contain corpses."
"Look, boss, I'm just a low-level guy. I don't know much. I just drive the truck and deliver the goods. Please spare me. My whole family will be grateful—"
Ivan frowned as Pike continued begging.
Kojima Foods.
He had heard that name before.
The convenience store owner had mentioned it when Ivan returned from the abandoned warehouse.
It was the same food factory where someone had once found a human finger inside a sausage.
Behind Pike's rambling, a Compsognathus quietly raised its claws and rested them against Pike's throat.
Pike instantly fell silent.
"You said the bags don't all contain corpses," Ivan said.
"What does that mean?"
Though he already suspected the answer, Ivan still found it hard to believe.
"Some are alive," Pike said, trembling.
"They're injected with anesthetics. They look just like corpses. But whether they're alive or dead, once they're sent to Kojima Foods… none of them ever escape."
His entire body trembled.
It was unclear whether he feared the dinosaur's claws—or the place he worked for.
"Do you know who those people are?" Ivan asked.
If his father had discovered this operation, then he must have investigated Kojima Foods.
And if that was the case, it raised a troubling possibility.
That Kojima Foods might be backed by the Kakin royal family.
Ivan took out his phone.
He still had the number of another investigator—
Monica, the detective currently investigating Kojima Foods.
"I really don't know," Pike said desperately.
"I'm just a delivery driver."
Ivan nodded and asked another question.
"The man in the convoy wearing the baseball cap and the big beard—who is he?"
While speaking, Ivan turned the truck toward a nearby parking lot.
He had spotted a billiard hall there, along with an internet café.
If he had possessed a Hunter License, he could have simply searched for Kojima Foods online.
Pike froze for a moment.
Then he hurriedly answered.
"His name is Bert. He was transferred here urgently. I don't know his exact background. But after something happened at the factory recently, he became the transport team's leader."
"Even the higher-ups treat him very respectfully. So he must have some serious backing."
"Something happened at the factory?" Ivan asked.
Pike hesitated.
But when the Compsognathus' claws pressed closer to his throat, he spoke.
"I heard the guards talking while we were smoking. Apparently someone broke into the slaughterhouse and angered the Butcher."
"The Butcher?" Ivan frowned.
"Yeah. Kojima Foods' slaughterhouse is a restricted zone. They say there's only one butcher working there, responsible for supplying all the meat for the factory every day."
Fear filled Pike's eyes.
"Anyone who threatens the company gets dragged into that slaughterhouse."
"I once got close by accident and heard… screams."
Ivan's expression hardened.
He had already suspected something like this.
As he stepped on the brake, he asked one last question.
"Have you ever seen this butcher?"
"No," Pike said quickly.
"Everyone who's seen him is already dead."
The truck rolled to a stop.
"Stay in the truck," Ivan said calmly.
"As long as you behave and tell the truth, I have no particular interest in killing you."
Without waiting for a response, Ivan jumped out of the driver's seat.
He headed toward the billiard hall nearby.
Earlier that night he had eaten nothing but a little bread from the convenience store at Correa's place.
By now—
he was hungry.
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