Bloodstar System: Infinite Evolution Through Beast Slaughter

Dozens of media vans clogged the streets, their doors stamped with the logos of every major network in Norcrest.

Camera flashes burst without pause, turning the night white.

"Why is Antares Command attacking law abiding citizens?"

"House Hurst pays billions in taxes every year and sponsors countless students from poor families. Do you have any evidence for this operation?"

"Is this political persecution aimed at private enterprise?"

Microphones thrust forward like spears, nearly touching Kaia’s face.

She said nothing.

Her lips were pressed tight, one hand locked around the hilt of her blade.

Out in the wilderness, she would already have cut down anything that came this close.

Here, surrounded by cameras and streamers broadcasting live, she could only endure it.

"Say something!"

"Why are you silent?"

"Feeling guilty?"

A reporter with a pointed beard leaned in, spraying spit close enough to land on Kaia’s combat suit.

"Get out of her face!"

Alar finally snapped and shoved aside the microphone aimed almost directly at her chest.

The reporter dropped to the ground at once.

"Assault!"

"Antares Command is attacking reporters!"

"Does the law mean nothing anymore?"

Camera shutters exploded ten times faster.

Across every live broadcast, comments poured down the screen.

[This is outrageous! These are supposed to be our protectors? They are nothing but thugs!]

[Mr. Hurst has done so much good, and this is how they treat him?]

[Investigate them! Antares Command is acting like it owns the city!]

[I saw the number on the one who pushed him. Find out who he is!]

Public opinion ignited in an instant.

People who knew nothing about what had happened were guided toward outrage, each one convinced they were standing on the side of justice.

Then the gates of the House Hurst estate slowly opened.

Orson emerged beneath the protection of his steward and several bodyguards.

His suit was immaculate. His hair had been combed into place with perfect care.

Only his face looked tired, wounded, and indignant in exactly the right proportions.

"My friends in the media."

"My fellow citizens of Norcrest."

His voice trembled, almost breaking.

"I, Orson Hurst, have always lived with a clear conscience."

"For years, I have funded schools and supported students in need without asking for anything in return."

"I do not understand why Antares Command has surrounded my home without explanation."

"Has justice disappeared from this city?"

Two tears slid down his face.

Crocodile tears, timed to perfection.

"Do not cry, Mr. Hurst! We support you!"

"Yes! They owe you an explanation!"

The crowd erupted.

With Orson feeding their anger, several streamers even began pushing toward the Antares Command line.

On a rooftop some distance away, two figures stood in the night wind.

Kyo watched the scene below, teeth grinding.

"Fuck this. I am going down there and cutting him in half."

He had barely moved when Manester planted a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait."

One word.

Below, Orson seemed to decide the moment had ripened.

He adjusted his collar, lifted his head, and called into the darkness beyond the crowd.

"Manester! I know you are watching!"

"You are the Commander of Norcrest, yet you hide behind a newly appointed child and send him to humiliate House Hurst?"

"If you have the courage, come out!"

"Give House Hurst an explanation!"

"Give the people of Norcrest an explanation!"

Protective force carried his voice through the night like rolling thunder.

The entire area went quiet.

Everyone turned, waiting for the legendary Commander to appear.

The number of viewers across the live broadcasts surged into the tens of millions.

One second.

Two.

Ten seconds passed.

No answer.

Orson knew he had won.

Officials were still people.

They feared outrage.

They feared accusations.

All he needed was to drag things out until morning.

By then, the bloodline side would be ready.

"What is wrong?"

Orson stepped forward and spread his arms like a martyr before more than a dozen cameras.

"Too ashamed to show your face?"

"Everyone can see it now!"

"These are our protectors!"

"This is Antares Command, the force entrusted with the law!"

"They surround the home of one of the city’s largest taxpayers in the middle of the night, armed for war, and now they cannot even offer a single word of explanation!"

"This is tyranny!"

"This is oppression!"

The crowd boiled over again.

Several planted voices led the chant.

"Apologize!"

"Antares Command out!"

The reporters surged closer like sharks tasting blood, their flashes beating against the defensive line.

Kaia’s knuckles had gone white around her blade.

She knew exactly what kind of man stood behind those gates.

Yet that thin shield called public opinion left her unable to touch him.

Just as everyone began to think Antares Command had walked into a disaster, a strange sound came from the darkness at the far end of the street.

Scrape.

Scrape.

"What is that?"

A streamer near the edge of the crowd turned his camera toward the sound.

Heads followed.

The defensive line of Antares Command split apart like a tide.

At the end of the path stood a young man emerging from the shadows.

Something rested across his shoulder.

A corpse.

Massive.

Twisted.

Its legs dragged across the road, leaving a long streak of blood behind him.

Joren walked toward the gates one step at a time, his face unreadable.

The closer he came, the thicker the smell of blood grew.

Reporters who had been shouting moments ago covered their noses and backed away.

Silence spread across the entrance to the estate.

Only the corpse dragging over the pavement remained.

Scrape.

Scrape.

Orson’s eyelid twitched as the young man approached.

He did not recognize Joren.

He did recognize the killing intent around him.

"Who are you supposed to be?"

A trace of unease rose inside Orson.

"Manester is too much of a coward to come out, so he sends some blood covered soldier instead?"

"This is still a city ruled by law."

"There are cameras everywhere."

He put the injured victim back on his face and pointed at the thing across Joren’s shoulder.

"What is the meaning of bringing a corpse here?"

"Are you planning to frame me for murder?"

"Ridiculous."

Joren stopped less than five meters away.

"You wanted an explanation?"

Orson blinked, then sneered.

"What?"

"You have no evidence, do you?"

"Then get out of here before..."

The last word never came.

Joren shrugged once.

The corpse flew from his shoulder like a sack of refuse.

Straight at Orson.

The captain of the bodyguards lunged forward.

Too late.

The body struck like a cannon shell.

The captain vanished beneath the impact and hit the wall hard enough to spread across it like a stain.

Boom!

The corpse crashed into the newly repaired gate, caving in a wide section before dropping at Orson’s feet.

Dust and blood splashed across his trousers.

Screams broke out among the reporters.

They stumbled backward in panic.

"You..."

Orson pointed at Joren and retreated several steps.

Joren’s voice remained flat.

"Look at what is lying by your feet."

"Or rather..."

"Look at who it is."

Dace had completed his Fiend transformation, and Joren had beaten him beyond recognition.

His own parents would have struggled to identify what remained.

Orson glanced down.

A headless body nearly two and a half meters tall lay before him.

Dark green scales covered it from neck to heel. Barbs lined the exposed spine.

The hands were no longer hands at all.

They had become enormous claws.

"What is this disgusting thing?"

Orson recoiled and started to kick it away.

Then his foot stopped.

"No..."

His whole body began to shake.

The color drained from his lips.

Joren reached behind his back and lifted something round.

A head.

Dace’s head.

Misshapen, hideous, one eye still not fully closed.

"Looks like you cannot recognize him."

"Let me help."

Joren tossed it down.

The head rolled twice and stopped beside the neck of the corpse.

A perfect fit.

The picture was complete.

"There is your explanation."

Joren looked down at Orson, who had sunk toward the ground.

"Your precious son."

"Dace."

"He ate thirteen students and still turned out this useless."

The words struck the crowd like a nuclear blast.

Thirteen students?

That monster was Dace?

Every camera swung toward the corpse.

Orson seemed to lose whatever had been holding him upright.

His eyes fixed on that staring head.

His beloved son.

The child he had once held above everything else.

Now reduced to ruined flesh and thrown at his own gate like garbage.

"Da...ce?"

A howl tore out of him.

Nothing human remained in the sound.

Dignity.

Public opinion.

The plan.

All of it shattered.

Orson raised his head.

Hatred filled his eyes as they locked onto Joren.

The violent, corrupted aura inside him began slipping free.

"You..."

"You killed him!"

Joren bent closer to his ear.

His voice dropped low enough that no one else could hear.

"Do not worry."

"Your turn is coming."

"Family should stay together."

"Every last one of you."