CHAPTER 120: WHO ARE YOU?

Not because he wanted to prove anything, but because he couldn’t let his hunger consume him unchecked.

He had learned that lesson the hard way.

Once, he would have given in the second the craving struck, tearing and devouring without hesitation.

But doing so had only pushed him further down that path—blurring the line between himself and the monster within.

Now, caution was necessary. Self-control was the only thread holding him back from becoming something worse.

It was the same reason he hadn’t eaten those horned boars the moment they dropped.

Resisting—waiting—forcing himself to endure.

And yet... his lips parted slightly, his tongue brushing across them as he gazed at the boss’s massive corpse.

"...But then," he muttered, voice hoarse with restraint, "it looks so yummy."

He almost laughed at the absurdity of his own words.

A few days ago, the thought of calling a monster "yummy" would have been unthinkable.

He would have scoffed, disgusted at even entertaining the idea.

Now, it slipped from his mouth without hesitation, natural as breathing.

’How much have I changed?’ he thought to himself, still a bit surprised at his new mindset.

His chest rose and fell, slow and steady, but the hunger only deepened.

His throat tightened, saliva pooling at the back of his tongue. He no longer bothered resisting.

He opened his mouth wide. Far wider than what should have been possible. His jaw unhinged with a wet, unnatural creak, stretching as shadows lined his teeth and throat.

Then, it came.

Fwoosh!!

A sudden, violent suction vortex erupted from deep within his gaping maw.

The air itself warped and shrieked, rushing inward as if the cavern had been caught in a hurricane.

Dust, stone fragments, even stray shadows along the floor were drawn toward him, funneling into that abyssal void that had replaced his throat.

The beast’s body shuddered, then tore.

Chunks of crystal-encrusted flesh ripped free as though invisible claws were stripping it apart.

The remains were dragged across the ground, shredded midair, and swallowed whole into Riley’s endless hunger.

Piece by piece, limb by limb, the massive corpse unraveled.

What should have taken minutes was reduced to seconds.

The sound of tearing flesh, cracking bone, and shattering crystal melded into one grotesque symphony, drowned by the roaring pull of the vortex.

And then... silence.

The last fragment of the boss vanished past Riley’s lips, sucked into that impossible void.

Not a single trace remained on the cavern floor.

Riley’s jaw clicked shut with finality. A deep breath rattled from his chest as he stood there, shadows still writhing faintly around his frame.

His stomach’s growl quieted, but the gnawing emptiness was far from gone.

Notifications flashed before his eyes.

[Level 34 Elite Boss: Shiny Crystal Boar Killed!]

[+750 EXP]

[Level 34 Elite Boss: Shiny Crystal Boar Killed!]

[+5000 points]

[You have devoured: Shiny Crystal Boar]

[Acquired: Strength +80.9, Agility +77.9, Endurance +86.7, Vitality +88.1, Mana +90, Skill: Crystal Armour (B-rank), Trait: Damage Dispersion (B-rank)]

Riley froze, his daggers hanging loose in his hands. His breath hitched, eyes widening as he stared at the glowing text.

Strength. Agility. Endurance. Vitality. Mana. All surging upward in frightening leaps.

His entire body tingled as though his blood had been replaced with molten energy, power coursing through his veins.

His arms felt lighter, stronger. His chest rose and fell with heavier breaths, lungs pulling in more air than before.

Even his thoughts felt sharper, his body already adapting to the sudden boost.

But what made his jaw clench wasn’t the raw stats.

It was the skill and trait.

Crystal Armour (B-rank). Damage Dispersion (B-rank).

He had seen them in action. The Shiny Crystal Boar’s defense had been absurd—its crystalline shell deflecting his blades, dispersing blows that would have otherwise been fatal. And now both of those were his.

Riley’s heart thumped faster. To get one B-rank ability at this stage was already ridiculous. To get two—stacked together—was monstrous.

Before he could linger on it, more glowing text appeared before his vision.

[Congratulations! You have defeated the First Floor’s Monster Boss.]

And then—

[Server Announcement: The First Floor has been cleared by player "A Random"! The path to the Second Floor has now been opened.]

The system’s voice carried across the dungeon, and he knew without a doubt every player in the server had heard it.

His anonymous name—A Random—flashed in their minds.

Somewhere outside this room, panic, envy, awe, and confusion were already spreading like wildfire.

Riley sighed, a heavy exhale that escaped his lips without him realizing. Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

But just as the thought settled, his eyes widened again when another notification flickered into existence.

[Would you like to enter the Second Floor immediately?]

[Yes / No]

His hand twitched. He was about to press his choice when a sharp prickle ran down his spine.

Instinct screamed.

He leapt back—just as a sharp streak of light stabbed down into the exact spot where he had stood a split second earlier.

BOOM!

The dungeon floor cracked violently, fissures spiderwebbing outward as shards of stone shot into the air. A thick dust cloud rose, swallowing the chamber in choking grey.

Riley landed with a roll, daggers flashing into position in his hands. His eyes narrowed through the swirling haze, body tense, mana already stirring to life in case he had to Shadow Hop again.

Someone—or something—had attacked him.

Suddenly, he felt a light prickle on his right cheek.

It came so suddenly that Riley almost mistook it for an illusion of nerves, a phantom sensation caused by the aftershock of the impact.

But the warmth that followed was all too real.

His hand rose instinctively, brushing the side of his cheek—and when he pulled it back, his fingertips were wet, slick, and unmistakably red.

Blood.

His pupils narrowed as he stared at it, his mind briefly blank.

He had leapt away. He was sure of it—his body had moved, his instincts had screamed, and he had reacted before the strike landed.

Yet somehow, even after dodging, he was still cut.

His breath came out slow, deliberate, the confusion clawing deeper into his skull.

How?

The question looped in his mind like a broken record, each repetition accompanied by the pounding of his heart.

His back arched slightly, creating more distance, his body tensing as though trying to shrink away from something unseen.

Cold sweat snaked down his spine, chilling him despite the heavy air that pressed over the battlefield.

His grip on his daggers tightened, every sense stretched to the edge.

The dust from the impact swirled in the dim light, slowly losing its violent churn, thinning into the air until the scene ahead began to clear.

And then he saw it.

A silhouette emerged. At first, just a shadow against the settling haze, humanoid but wrong in ways Riley couldn’t immediately put words to.

As the dust parted further, the shape became clearer: a figure clad in a long, hooded coat.

The coat itself wasn’t unusual—it was the aura that disturbed him.

Thick, dark wisps bled out from its fabric like smoke rising from a smoldering fire, pooling on the ground, crawling upward, spreading outward in slow, menacing waves.

The haze clung unnaturally to the air, as though reluctant to disperse. The ground itself seemed to tremble faintly beneath the pressure of that presence.

The figure lifted its head.

Riley’s eyes widened instinctively, his throat tightening as if invisible fingers had closed around it.

Under the hood there was no face—no eyes, no flesh, nothing but swirling, endless smoke.

Darker than any shadow he had ever conjured, it writhed and folded into itself like a storm trapped within a prison of bone and cloth.

His stomach twisted. His breath hitched.

’That smoke...’ he mumbled inwardly, his brows furrowing into a frown.

His mind clawed at the sight, desperate to name it.

It was similar to his shadow aura, yes—the same oppressive density, the same unnatural pull at the senses.

But where his shadows were sharp, fluid, like knives that slashed and sliced, this was heavier, darker, suffocating.

It wasn’t the void-like silence of shadow; it was the choking, bitter sting of smoke born from fire, filling the lungs, obscuring all light.

A voice escaped him before he even realized he had spoken.

"...Who are you?"

The figure tilted its head. And then, through the haze, a voice emerged—distorted, warped, as if dragged across gravel and muffled beneath water.

"I should be asking you that... Who the hell are you?"

The sound of it slithered into Riley’s ears, crawling across his nerves, each word drawn out in unnatural tones.

The weight behind it made the air vibrate faintly, as though even speech carried the force to bend the space around them.

One step.

The figure moved forward, and with that single step, the air grew thicker, heavier, pressing down on Riley’s chest.

His heartbeat kicked harder, pounding against his ribs like a trapped animal. His knees bent slightly of their own accord, his body bracing instinctively.

Even though there was distance between them, it felt like there was a knife pressing against his neck.

"You’re not an ordinary player," the warped voice continued, carrying with it a conviction that made Riley’s skin crawl. "None of this... makes any sense."

The figure paused, smoke writhing violently around his form as though agitated.

Then, slowly, one arm rose. A pale hand stretched out from the sleeve, unnaturally long fingers ending in sharp, blackened nails. It extended until it leveled directly at Riley.

"I won’t ask again." The voice cracked deeper this time, laced with something primal. "Who are you really... player?"