Daryl's body lay a few meters away, one arm stretched out, fingers loosely curled around the dagger.
The blade stopped vibrating. Whatever energy once kept it humming disappeared.
It was a shame. If no third party interfered, he could easily win that fight, and then go on to massacre the rest of the Defense Force agents, single-handedly turning the tide.
Francis approached carefully—old habit. He circled once, then climbed.
With his enlarged teeth, he began tearing through skin, muscles, and organs.
The liver was larger than expected—dense, heavy with the memory of a fighter who pushed his body past every limit for years.
[DING]
[Congratulations, Host. You devoured a Special Category human liver. System is now assessing its value.]
[+50 Human Livers]
Francis guessed Daryl carried more strength. The numbers confirmed it.
[Innate Talent Absorbed: Muscular Acceleration]
[Temporarily doubles the host's movement speed for up to 5 seconds. Cooldown applies after activation. The Host can now apply the same trait to any organism he merges with.]
He paused, letting the realization sink in.
Double. Not enhanced. Not improved. Double.
Daryl's use of this skill shows inefficiency, but with Francis, it transforms into something much more deadlier—especially in high-tension fights.
He didn't get the chance to dwell on it.
Footsteps approached. Multiple sets. Heavy boots clattering across concrete.
Francis dropped from Daryl's torso, hitting the floor without a sound. He moved before the first flashlight beam swept across the far end of the warehouse.
He slipped beneath the nearest crate, melting into the darkness.
Two entered first to check the perimeter, moving cautiously before the rest came rushing in.
They fanned out without a word, weapons angled subtly, aware of each other's blind spot—a standard tactic in military operations and special forces.
"Check all entrances and exits first!" commanded a man who looked to be in his fifties.
Beams from flashlights sliced across the floor.
Francis tracked them through the gaps between crates, his eyes catching stray light that would reveal his position if anyone looked from ground level.
Fortunately, none of them were conscious of such a small creature roaming around. Even if they caught a glimpse, they would dismiss him as just another rat—nothing unusual in this place.
One of the agents stopped at the female corpse.
"Sergeant Tanya… Special Category. She's… she's dead."
Another figure approached Daryl, sweeping a flashlight across his torso.
"Did she kill him?" he tilted his head. "But the abdomen… this hole… doesn't match a gunshot or even a blade."
"Let me see." The team lead crossed over, kneeling beside the body. Eyes moved across the wound without touching it. "Check Tanya again. Abdomen."
"She has it too. Same spot. Same shape."
Everyone's faces turned ashen, realizing another party had been involved in the deaths of the two.
They quickly formed a tight circle, backs to each other, eyes flashing left, right, up, and down.
Then the lead's voice cut through like gunfire.
"Secure the perimeter! Full sweep, now!" He moved without hesitation, pointing toward the far exit.
"You two, east wall. Check every crack, every drain, every hole big enough to fit a fist. Go!"
They moved in exact accordance with his orders, as if it were second nature.
"Rodriguez, get HQ on the line. Report a beast attack—two Special Category casualties. Request a scout unit immediately, and make sure they bring the most advanced gamma scanner we have."
"A gamma scanner?" Rodriguez hesitated. "Sir, that's a Level Three request—"
"I know that." The leader didn't look back. "Make the call. My hunch? This is the same beast that's been consuming livers at the other sites."
One younger agent slowed near the east wall. "Other sites… how many?"
"Eyes forward," the lead snapped. "Not your concern right. Just do your fucking job."
It was obvious that everyone grew tense and uneasy, their nerves on edge and senses sharpened to the slightest sound.
One agent even heard a rat scurrying and fired instantly, killing it on the spot.
Francis exhaled, relieved he didn't made any sudden movements—one false step, and it would have been him.
'What a waste.'
He expected this outcome, but hearing the scanner request made the threat feel real.
Invisibility through irrelevance would no longer worked as effectively as before.
If fighting became unavoidable, he could handle a few normal agents without issue. In fact, with proper preparation, taking down dozens would be easy.
His new talents offered options: Spring Joints for precision, Boosted Speed for escape or surprise attacks, Muscle Control for flexibility .
Special Category, however, belonged to a different league.
He studied the two closely during their bout: every motion, every reaction, every tactic. They already exceeded what any human could achieve.
It wasn't an exaggeration—their reaction times outstripped a cat's, and their eyesight was razor-sharp, spotting him despite his small size and the dim lighting of the warehouse.
Right now, he believed his chances of winning against Daryl in a direct confrontation stayed at just 20%, even if he infected a cat and used every skill at his disposal.
'I need to reach the next category fast, and hopefully gain the ability to infect larger animals—or better yet, a full-fledged beast.'