Chapter 117: Don’t even dareAfter finding another room filled with sleeping mutants, this time 40 of them, Adyr activated Fade Sense and silently wiped out the entire group. Once they were dead, he harvested their crystals and finished his sweep of the third floor.

    The fortress had a total of 4 floors, built with crude, uneven architecture. Adyr assumed the Cannibal was stationed at the top. Having found nothing else of value on the third floor, he descended to the second.

    It was clear now that the third floor was reserved for low-ranking members of the gang. That only strengthened his theory: the Cannibal was on the top floor, surrounded by higher-ranked subordinates.

    Normally, the lower floors of a fortress would be fortified under the assumption that enemies would attack from the ground. Placing low-ranking, cannon-fodder mutants directly beneath the boss’s chamber could be considered a strategic structure, at least in theory.

    Strategic might be too generous a word for a group like this.

    As Adyr stepped onto the second floor, he spotted movement in the corridor ahead. One of the guards.

    The mutant had the same gray skin and facial mutations as the others. Judging by his slow, bored stride and occasional yawns, he was one of the second-floor sentries.

    Adyr didn’t strike immediately. Instead, he pulled back into the shadows and scanned the northern section of the floor. Another guard was wandering there.

    Before dealing with either of them, he moved quietly between rooms, wanting to map the area and clear potential threats from the inside first. An ambush in tight quarters wasn’t something he intended to allow.

    Room by room, he searched. Aside from the two patrolling mutants, the floor was empty.

    Most rooms were used for storage. A few appeared to be designed for intelligence work, with desks and filing shelves, but the thick dust and undisturbed clutter told another story. They had never been used.

    This group relied purely on muscle. Strategy, planning, analysis—none of it mattered to them. And somehow, even with that brain-dead approach, they had managed to wipe out two full STF elite units.

    If they’d actually been organized, they might have brought the whole city to its knees. The thought made Adyr chuckle quietly.

    Finding nothing of value inside, he returned to the corridor.

    It only took two seconds of Fade Sense to deal with the first guard. 0.2 energy spent to avoid noise or resistance was more than worth it.

    He dragged the corpse into one of the empty rooms, split open the skull, and retrieved the crystal. Then he moved to the second guard and repeated the process.

    Once the second floor was fully cleared, he made his way down to the ground floor.

    —

    "Big sister, can you say the names of the desserts again?" Boy asked softly, eyes closed as he curled up tighter in Neris’s arms. Sёarch* The N?vel(F)ire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Like everyone else in the room, they hadn’t been able to sleep. Hunger gnawed at their stomachs, and the tension in the air was thick, almost physical. In the silence, they spoke in whispers, trying to hold back the unease clawing at their thoughts.

    To give him at least a little sense of peace, Neris had been telling him stories about the city, its beauty, its quiet streets, and the comfort of a normal life.

    "Sure," she said quietly, stroking his hair with slow, steady motions. As he began drifting off, she listed the names for the third time, her voice barely louder than a breath.

    "There’s something called sour cake, made with tart cherries. It has a soft, golden base and a shiny red jelly on top. It tastes sweet and sour at the same time. That one’s my favorite."

    She paused, brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead.

    "Then there’s warm milk pudding with cinnamon. And honey biscuits, crunchy outside but soft inside. And the one with crushed nuts and syrup—what was it called again?"

    She let the question linger, not expecting an answer. The boy’s breathing had slowed. His small hands, once clenched from cold, had relaxed.

    Neris looked at the boy. Even she hadn’t had the time or money to try most of the desserts she had just listed for him.

    He was so small, and there were still so many things he should have been able to experience.

    A heavy sadness settled over her.

    This was probably the last night of his life, and all she could do now was make sure his final moments were gentle.

    But the moment the door creaked open, Neris knew it was impossible.

    "Ahh, why does the boss want to eat at this hour? I could be sleeping in my warm bed right now," muttered the mutant as he stepped into the room. His gray skin gave him a sickly appearance, and his deformed mouth made him look more beast than human. His body was thin and lanky, stretched in unnatural proportions.

    The moment he entered, everyone, including Neris, turned their eyes toward him in fear. Their bodies tensed. Some began to tremble.

    "Look at this. I’m working even at a time like this, and this is how you greet me?" The mutant said, frowning as he scanned their terrified faces one by one.

    He shifted his gaze from the prisoners to the hanging meat chained along the walls. He walked over and inspected it.

    "Shit, these are starting to spoil. If I bring this to the boss, he’ll eat me instead." A visible shiver ran through his frame at the thought.

    Then he turned back toward the prisoners and grinned.

    "Looks like some of you are lucky tonight."

    "Please, why are you doing this? I beg you, I have a family waiting for me, please let me go," one of the prisoners cried out, falling to his knees in desperation. He was wearing a uniform, like Neris, with the Angel Wings Foundation emblem still visible on his chest.

    The mutant looked at him, putting on a mock expression of sympathy.

    "Ohhh, you have a family? I’m sorry, man, I didn’t know. Just wait, let me free you right away so you can go back to them," he said, his voice dripping with fake pity as he stepped forward.

    But the man wasn’t a fool. He saw through the lie instantly and began backing away in panic, eyes wide with fear.

    "Wait—" he started, but didn’t get to finish.

    The mutant’s hand closed around his throat and squeezed.

    Crack!

    A sickening snap echoed through the room, silencing everything for a moment. The sound of bone breaking turned every stomach cold.

    "What the hell, why did it break so suddenly? Bro, don’t you eat your proteins?" the mutant muttered, frowning down at the lifeless body in his hands.

    He tossed the corpse onto the blood-stained table to prepare it, then turned back around.

    "The main dish is ready. Now we need dessert." His eyes swept over the prisoners before settling on the only child in the room—Boy.

    "Oh, we’ve got fresh fruit. The boss will like this," he said with a wide grin, stepping toward the still-sleeping child.

    But at that moment, he froze in place. A surprised look spread across his face as a sharp voice rang out, filling the room.

    "Don’t even dare to do that."