Villain: Supreme Parasite System in Another World

"Governor, things are getting a bit intense. How about we eat first? It's a shame—the food is getting cold." One official tried to ease the tension with a light joke.

"I heard your chief used to run a four-star restaurant, so I've been looking forward to this."

The governor gave a small nod. "Then let's eat. I'm very confident with my Chiefs."

The guests reached for their utensils. Knives touched porcelain. Forks lifted small portions of food.

Conversations resumed, and they all looked pleased with the taste of the food.

None of them noticed anything unusual.

The parasites were still small inside them, barely active.

He stayed still, watching through the shared link spreading quietly across the room.

One by one, more of them ate.

Some talked while eating. Some checked documents between bites. Some simply stared forward, thinking about the earlier conversation.

The tension from before did not fully disappear. It stayed under the surface, but the meal pushed it down, covering it with routine.

Francis could feel the network stabilizing.

Each parasite was setting itself deeper. Not controlling yet. Not influencing. Just attaching, learning, adjusting to the internal environment of each host.

He decided to wait until the meeting ended. By tomorrow, his parasites would mature.

The next day, he began his surveillance. Linking with the General from last night.

His name was Bernard.

Francis used a thin thread of influence through the parasite network, not strong enough to control him yet, but enough to see through his perspective.

Bernard was in a secure command room.

Screens filled the walls. Maps, troop movements, live feeds from multiple regions.

Other officers stood nearby, speaking in short exchanges, all focused on different problems at once.

Bernard stood in front of a main console, arms behind his back, watching a direct communication feed.

On the screen was the capital command center.

A high-ranking official spoke from the other side. His face was calm, but there was strain in his eyes.

"There is a new development. A King has been identified. Code name: Verak."

Bernard's face turned serious.

The official continued.

"Counter attack has already begun. If containment fails, we are expecting severe aftershock effects. Possibly large-scale seismic disturbance."

Bernard frowned slightly. "What is the magnitude?"

The officer on the other end spoke again.

"Initial readings near the epicenter are extreme—magnitude 9. Expected impact in surrounding regions will register as magnitude six-level aftershocks."

Bernard was lost for words. Not just him—Francis also understood what a magnitude nine meant.

That level of force meant regional destruction stretching hundreds of kilometers. Entire cities reduced to broken ground. Infrastructure erased in instant.

And the worst part was not the scale itself.

It was the repetition.

Verak could do it more than once.

That meant one King could, in theory, tear through the entire nation piece by piece—until nothing meaningful was left.

If the conditions were right, even the whole continent could collapse, parts of the country sinking into the sea under sustained pressure.

Francis once again realized just how powerful the Kings were. Although he had grown significantly stronger after reaching Category 9, he still couldn't command destruction on that scale.

He even doubted that he could reach it, even if he broke into Category 10.

The only way he could match that level was not through raw strength alone. It would require something else entirely—infecting a King and taking control of their body from within.

He let the meeting continue and discovered that, because of Verak, most of the orbital cannons were occupied.

It was the perfect chance for him to strike.

.

.

.

Over two thousand km away, the land around Verak had already stopped behaving like land.

What started as small tremors grew into a steady shaking that didn't stop. It wasn't just the ground moving anymore. It felt like the earth was breathing.

Then the mountains changed.

At first, it looked like cracks forming along their faces. Thin lines cutting through stone. But those lines did not stay small. They spread quickly, branching across entire slopes like veins splitting open.

Chunks of rock broke loose and slid downward.

From above, the region no longer looked like a mountain range.

It looked like something tearing itself apart from the inside.

A long fracture opened across the terrain, stretching from one ridge to another. It did not follow any natural fault line. It cut straight through forests, hills, and valleys without respect for geography.

The opening widened as it moved.

Satellites were the first to capture it fully.

"Multiple Orbital Strike requested."

A faint glow appeared high in the atmosphere. Then another. Then several more.

They did not explode on impact. Instead, they drilled into the earth, striking the fractured region with precise, concentrated force.

The beams held for only seconds.

Then they stopped.

Silence returned immediately after.

But the ground did not calm down.

"RRRRRRRRG!"

A deep sound rose from beneath the earth.

It traveled through the ground, shaking everything above it. Trees snapped in place. Rocks lifted slightly before collapsing again.

Fifty kilometers away, a populated city sat at what was supposed to be a safe distance.

At first, people noticed vibration. Glasses on shelves trembled. Water in cups rippled. Streetlights flickered.

Then the ground shifted.

Buildings began to lean slightly. Roads cracked open in long, uneven lines.

A siren started somewhere in the city center. Then another. Then dozens.

"Evacuate immediately!"

"Evacuate immediately!"

"Evacuate immediately!"

But the warnings came too late.

The first collapse began in the western district. A high-rise building cracked at its base and sunk straight down.

More followed.

Within seconds, entire blocks began to drop at different rates.

Bridges twisted mid-air before snapping. Roads split and sank. Power lines went dark in waves.

From a distance, it looked like the city was being erased layer by layer.

Back on Verak, the fracture continued to expand.

The opening in the land stretched even further, cutting across regions like a blade drawn through fabric.

Now and then, bursts of light flashed from above.

The orbital cannons began firing one after another, instead of all at once, reducing the delay between shots.

It worked.

Within minutes, dozens of concentrated beams rained down on the same region in rapid succession. The ground lit up again and again under the impact.

And then, suddenly, the tremors stopped.

"WE KILLED IT!"

Cheers erupted throughout the main control center of EPSILON. Everyone celebrated, and even Lucien himself could not hide his smile. Another King had fallen.

This meant that two of the four Kings were dead.

For the first time in weeks, the atmosphere inside EPSILON's command center felt lighter.

Some officers sank into their chairs as though a weight had finally been lifted from their shoulders.

Others were already discussing the next phase of operations. Few even laughed openly, something that had become rare since the appearance of the Kings.

Lucien allowed himself to relax.

Verak was dead.

The King that could tear apart entire regions with earthquakes had finally fallen under the concentrated firepower of the orbital network.

The cost had been enormous.

Several cities had been damaged.

Millions died.

Entire sections of infrastructure would need years to rebuild.

But they had won.

That was what mattered.

As long as the Kings could be killed, humanity still had a chance.

Lucien turned slightly toward the tactical display. "Begin post-strike assessment. And prepare the orbital cannons for redeployment to there original position."

"Yes, sir."

The officer immediately relayed the order, and everyone quickly followed it. This victory would increase citizen's morale.

Around the room, operators began adjusting deployment schedules.

Everything seemed to be moving in the right direction.

Then a voice spoke from one of the monitoring stations.

"Sir?"

Nobody paid much attention.

The young analyst looked down at his screen.

His brows slowly furrowed.

A few seconds later he spoke again.

"Sir."

This time Lucien looked over.

"What is it?"

The analyst hesitated.

"There are still seismic readings."

Lucien frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The tremors stopped, but..." The analyst zoomed in on several displays. "They're starting again."

Immediately, nearby technicians abandoned their conversations and moved toward his station.

Numbers began updating across multiple screens.

One operator checked the satellite feed.

Another verified the sensor network.

A third compared the data against previous readings.

"It might be residual activity," one officer suggested.

"No."

The reply came almost immediately.

"Residual activity doesn't increase." another answered.

The readings were climbing.

Slowly.

Steadily.

Like a heartbeat growing stronger.

Lucien felt a knot forming in his stomach.

"Bring up the satellite feed."

Several displays switched at once.

Dust clouds still covered most of the destroyed region.

Nothing should have survived that much firepower.

Then the ground beneath the clouds began to rise.

Millions of tons of earth lifted upward.

Entire hills buckled as though something underneath was forcing its way to the surface.

KRRRRRUMBLE

The command center fell completely silent as a massive shape emerged from the bottomless crater.

At first, nobody understood what they were seeing.

Then it rose higher.

The creature slowly pulled itself out, and what they saw was a giant brown scorpion. Its length was so massive that it was easily double the previous king's size.

Verak was still alive. Holes were scattered across its body, leaking black blood, but not enough to kill it.

"When can we fire the orbital cannons again?" Lucien hurriedly asked.

"Sir, we've used up our reserve energy. Charging will take three hours."

Three hours. That was more than enough time for the king to advance thousands of kilometers.

But advancing was the least of their problems—the earthquakes it brought with it were.