Villain: Supreme Parasite System in Another World

Right now, a man in a black coat was dismantling the crowd in a narrow corridor, keeping them from overwhelming him with sheer numbers.

He didn't use flashy abilities and fought with nothing but his bare hands.

An infected lunged at him.

He stepped aside, grabbed the attacker's arm, and drove an elbow into the side of their head. The infected collapsed before it even hit the ground.

Another rushed from behind.

The man twisted, caught the attacker's wrist, and hurled them into two others charging from the opposite direction.

That person was dangerous, certainly. Skilled enough to tear through hundreds of infected with nothing but his fists.

However, that was only when compared to special categories. To Francis, the man was only slightly above average at best.

The target of his attention was a woman he would never forget.

Samantha.

His focus stayed on her as she walked through the corridor without any sign of fear. She looked like a completely different person, even from her presence alone. Her aura had changed—more mature and dangerous.

Even from their shared perspective, Francis could tell she had undergone a massive transformation.

"On your right!" John shouted as four attackers came rushing toward her.

She didn't even blink. Instead, she clenched her fist.

BANG!

She struck the air, and a shockwave erupted from the point of impact, throwing them back.

Francis was taken aback. He was certain her physical ability had never been this strong before.

And for a moment, it reminded him of his own kinetic calibration and shockwave emission.

To test it, he sent more enemies toward her.

What she did next went beyond his expectations. She began taking them down, blending multiple innate talents with precise movement. It was clear she could read trajectories now, adjusting before each attack even reached her.

More and more people piled up. Then, suddenly, her eyes turned gold. One after another, every infected who met her gaze broke free from his control and collapsed to the ground.

In just five seconds, the hallway was cleared.

"Did her power evolve?"

It even countered his control. He assumed her eyes were emitting some kind of light wave that killed the parasite on sight.

Cognitive abilities were rare, but once they evolved to a certain point, they became dangerous in ways most people couldn't measure.

Even in his main body, he had deliberately sealed away a mutated ability—one so powerful it could cause massive destruction, but with a cost that would take him down with it.

Curious, he sent more pawns in her path after her ability entered cooldown.

"I know you're watching me." She pointed forward. "You're the one who has been controlling all these people."

Francis moved the body of a man in a police uniform and made it smile.

"So you can sense me. Tell me how?"

Samantha's eyes glowed brighter, and he felt his connection break. But he quickly shifted to another body. This time, it was a female clerk.

"Isn't this rude? I asked you a question, and you cut me off."

"Rude?" she snapped, the glow in her eyes intensifying. "You caused all this death, and for what?"

"I have my reasons—" Before Francis could finish, he was cut off again and forced to jump into the body of an old man.

She didn't seem willing to talk, but he continued speaking anyway. She was one of the few people he had grown fond of.

"Samantha, listen to me. I'm willing to give you and your acquaintance a way to leave this city safely."

Her eyes widened, not just because of the offer, but because he knew her name.

John and she had made sure to use aliases, so they were the only two people who knew their real identities.

She turned to John, but he didn't seem infected.

"How do you know me?"

"It doesn't matter how I know your name. Leave the city while I'm still asking nicely."

The crowd stopped fighting and lined up, opening a path through the corridor for them.

John took a deep breath and stood beside her. "Do you know who's responsible for this?"

"Of course not," said Samantha, shaking her head.

"That's hard to believe, miss," John replied. "Especially when it's offering us a chance to live."

John was not naive. He understood that if Francis was truly determined to kill them, he could just exhaust them to death.

"He's right, Samantha. You should take my offer and leave. I promise you won't be harmed."

"Stop calling me by my name!" she lashed out.

Francis didn't respond at first. He gave her a moment to cool down.

When he spoke again, it wasn't through anger or urgency.

"Then tell me what you want me to call you?"

Samantha's expression didn't soften, but her eyes flickered—just once. The gold in them dimmed slightly, like a flame pressed under glass.

"That's not the point," she lashed out again.

Seeing that she had no intention of listening, he decided to make his pawns retreat.

Now it was up to them what to do.

Meanwhile, the death count continued to rise in other places.

Francis observed it without reaction, as if it were just another number shifting in the background.

Then he made a decision.

It was time for the second phase of his plan.

Deep beneath the city, the tendrils that had been quietly spreading around him began to change their behavior.

Thin black things—like ropes or roots—crawled along the ground and walls. They moved slowly, slipping into cracks, sliding over broken concrete, and disappearing under bodies lying on the street.

One dead body near the road suddenly moved.

Not like it was alive again, but like something was pulling it from inside. The body lifted slightly, then opened at the chest. From inside, a black thread-like thing came out and reached for another body nearby.

That second body twitched. Then it happened again.

From a distance, it looked like the corpses were being corrupted. Their bodies split and opened in slow, unnatural movements, and from inside them, more black tendrils emerged.

Each new corpse became a source.

Each source created more tendrils.

It spread like a chain reaction, expanding farther with every second.

What started in one place was now reaching into the surrounding streets, linking dead bodies together into a growing network that kept extending without pause.

This was the fastest way for him to collect livers without leaving his hiding spot.

On the street, Samantha and John watched the scene unfold in silence. It had already reached a point where even the walls of the buildings were covered in tendrils, crawling upward like veins spreading through stone.

True to his words, the tendrils parted whenever they sensed Samantha.

"Let's get out of here fast before that thing changes its mind," John reminded her.

She felt upset and guilty at the same time.

In truth, she had somehow gained multiple innate talents for reasons she didn't understand. If she pushed herself fully, her strength could surpass an Elite Rank Agent.

On top of that, she had a trump card of her own—something even John didn't know about. It was powerful enough that she was afraid she might not be able to control it herself.

But even with all of that combined, she knew she was still at a disadvantage against a being capable of destroying an entire city.

There were levels to everything, and now that she stood near the peak of human ability, she had become more aware of that truth.

"Let's go. We need to head to the capital and meet my father."

John nodded, and they got into a car.

The engine started, and the vehicle moved forward through the broken streets.

The city outside the windows looked worse the farther they went. Abandoned cars blocked intersections. Some had been flipped over, others burned out and hollow.

They didn't get far before the road began to change.

At first, it was small things. A car shifted slightly out of their way, as if something unseen had nudged it. Then another. Then an entire blockade of wrecked vehicles slowly slid aside, scraping against the asphalt.

Black tendrils appeared in the gaps between buildings, slipping across walls and road surfaces. They didn't attack the car. They guided the destruction around it, clearing a path forward.

Samantha watched through the window in silence.

Every time she thought the road was fully blocked, the tendrils would adjust again.

John kept both hands steady on the wheel. His eyes flicked between the road ahead and the shifting debris. "It's still watching us," he said.

"Why do you think it's letting us go?" Samantha asked.

"I don't know. Maybe it grew fond of you?" John joked, trying to lighten the mood. It was unusual for him, and anyone could tell he was forcing it.

Samantha gave him a quick glance, unimpressed.

"That is not funny."

Although she said that, she couldn't help but think the one responsible for all this destruction was connected to her in some way.