OJTTEG-Chapter 31: The Perfect Ingredient

...

At this point, taking him down should be easy.

"Hit him while he's down! Take him out when he's weak!" Haunter shouts, tossing holy water into a crevice in the rubble. An quickly grabs it, carefully applying it to her nails.

Time for a little enchanting trick.

When a mysterious creature's skin comes into contact with holy water, it feels a burning sensation and pain. If the wounds touch it, the reaction is even more intense.

But nails are different; they're just simple bone structures, with little connection to mysterious creatures. Scratching the opponent with nails dipped in holy water can stop their wounds from healing.

There's a time limit, about ten seconds or so.

Definitely enough.

"I can't do it."

An suddenly responds, trying to enlarge the wound, but the opponent's body becomes unusually hard, and her nails can't even make a scratch.

"I think I know why he hasn't been caught."

Cement walls are incredibly tough, yet An's nails can slice through them like tofu. But against this skin, not even a scratch.

Plus, his body is over three meters tall, making it impractical to move him.

His wounds are still healing, likely waiting for the holy water's effect to wear off. An can only pour the remaining holy water on his wounds to slow the recovery.

His eerie green eyes make her uneasy.

An looks over at Haunter, who quickly empties the rest of his bullets onto the opponent's neck.

The bullets bounce off.

Wow, this thing is tougher than bulletproof steel. What on earth did you eat to grow like this?

What do we do now?

"Don't stop!" Haunter strains as he lifts a large piece of rubble and drops it onto the creature.

"Let's bury it with these debris pieces!"

An immediately understands, using her vampire-enhanced strength to hurl surrounding debris onto the creature.

No matter how strong someone is, if you weigh them down and immobilize their muscles, they're easier to handle. It's like when someone is buried in sand at the beach—they can't move. The creature is currently in a pile of rubble; if they bury its body, it likely won't be able to get up temporarily.

"So, how exactly do we kill it?" An asks, a bit breathless, her body glistening with a mix of sweat and rain, her clothes clinging tightly to her, highlighting her healthy and fit curves.

Just how fit? Fit enough that a photo on Facebook wouldn't get banned.

Sure, those long legs are something to admire, but there's no time for that now.

...Hmm, today's underwear is pure white; hopefully, she hasn't noticed.

After all, she's a beauty, and I do enjoy appreciating beauty.

One more glance.

"Kill it? Why do we need to kill it?" Haunter asks, giving himself a cheeky excuse as he picks up his phone.

"It's been eight minutes since it all started. Are you sure you're not going? Ormond is still waiting for you."

"And what about you?" An tilts her head, shaking off the rainwater. "You're too slow; I'll take you with me."

"You're not in the best shape to carry me right now."

Haunter gives her a thumbs-up. "You go ahead. I'll handle things here."

"But..." An glances at the trembling pile of rubble. Clearly, that guy's wounds have mostly healed, and he's struggling fiercely. Staying here seems like a death wish.

"You promised to listen to me, remember? We're good partners."

"Hmph, I know you had a backup plan."

"Always have a few tricks up my sleeve. You know me."

"Just be careful and don't get yourself killed. "

An frowns slightly, then turns and disappears into the rainy night without hesitation.

"Hmph." She lets out a soft, melodious hum.

Ah, such a delightful personality she has.

"I really like her straightforward nature."

Haunter smiles, turning his weary body around and tossing his empty gun aside in the rain.

Everything looks pretty cool, except for the slight shiver in his voice from the cold.

"She's great, right, Cain?"

……

"I'm not Cain."

From the edge of the rubble emerges a small figure, starkly different from the previous three-meter height, now only about 50 centimeters tall.

"Alright, Cain, I know it's you, Cain."

Haunter leans against the wall, seemingly exhausted.

Damn, tonight's workout is insane, like trekking back from the Himalayas and dying halfway.

"Want to know how I figured it out..."

Cough!

Before Haunter can finish, the small figure in front of him thrusts an arm through his chest.

The smaller the size, the faster the speed. The three-meter-tall form didn't have this kind of speed.

The punch seems to shatter his heart completely, a drowning sensation surging over him. Haunter opens his mouth wide but can't make a sound.

No honor in this fight.

"You thought I'd let you stall for time here?"

The small figure clinging to him speaks slowly, lightning flashing to illuminate the ever-changing face.

It's a face with no distinct features, constantly shifting, appearing different from every angle, with attributes of male, female, young, and old.

No wonder no one has been able to catch him for three years.

It's a joke, really. If you can change your gender, size, and appearance at will, who could possibly catch you?

"Impressive..." Haunter mouths silently, his face contorted.

But there's one thing the opponent clearly overlooks.

Never mind, I don't need to remind him. I'll just keep it to myself.

Next time, remember to aim for the head, preferably in a way that shatters it completely.

But you can't do it; you don't know how.

Because as long as a tiny bit of brain tissue remains, I have plenty of time to put the mask back on.

......

Fiona Karenina, the stunning redhead, is the undisputed beauty of St. Delrick University. She's got the looks, the brains, and a warm personality. She even gets along well with the notorious campus kingpin, Haunter Reed.

But in my eyes, she's beyond what human language can describe as perfect. Only those who have interacted with her can truly understand her.

Because she is...

The perfect ingredient!

Cain Fleesto set his sights on this girl the moment he arrived in the city.

In reality, that's not his real name; it's the name of the last caretaker he encountered at the Scholars' Church.

But who cares? That guy's been devoured, and the name rightfully belongs to him now.

The genetic sample comes from a mysterious creature called a troll. Decades ago, the Scholars' Church was fortunate enough to acquire a sample of its remains. After years of research, they decided to begin human experimentation.