I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

The building in Kaili is fairly well-maintained. The exterior walls have been blackened by decades of coal smoke, but the wooden structure is not crooked, and the old-fashioned louvered window on the second floor opens and closes neatly.

An old tin mailbox hangs on the gatepost, and the bronze plaque with the words "Kaili" on it has faded.

As soon as he turned to the edge of the yard, Evan heard a scream coming from inside the house.

Immediately afterward, a young man carrying his overalls rushed out of the front door in a panic, his face covered with several fresh scratches from his cheekbone to his jaw.

Behind him, a tall, burly figure chased after him, almost hugging the door frame.

Kerry.

Something's not right.

Ivan stood behind a telephone pole on the street corner, activating his demon-hunting vision.

A distinct, slowly rising black aura enveloped Kerry's body, like water vapor.

More importantly, Carey's body hair was excessively thick.

The previous Kerry always had a clean-shaven chin and even his eyebrows were trimmed into a refined curve; he was a young man who wanted to maintain his dignity.

But the man in question, Kerry, had a tangled black beard on his chin, thick eyebrows that almost formed a horizontal line, and fine hairs on the base of his neck that peeked out from his collar.

He looked like a wild man who had been adrift at sea for years.

The gray wool suit he was wearing had a tear at the hem, only one button was fastened in the middle, and the shirt on his chest was stretched with several horizontal lines.

With his enhanced ears, Ivan could hear the other person's heavy breathing from more than ten meters away, like a mad dog chained up.

His body was noticeably more muscular, his shoulders were wider, and even the knuckles of his elbows were pushing against the fabric of his suit.

The sense of power emanated directly from each step he took. The wooden planks of the porch creaked and groaned under his weight.

"Get out! All of you get out! Lily belongs to me!"

Kerry growled in a low voice, but it didn't sound like someone cursing; it sounded more like a wild beast patrolling its territory along a fixed route in the wilderness.

After driving the young man out of the courtyard, he turned around and staggered back to the small building.

"Self-awareness has severely declined."

Ivan squinted.

"The effects of the B virus."

"But... why would the Red King's laboratory release him?"

"Isn't this giving myself leverage against you?"

He stood behind the telephone pole for a few more seconds, straightened the hem of his jacket, and slowly strolled across the street, walking along the gravel path to the front of the small building.

Boom boom boom!

Ivan tapped the door three times, neither too hard nor too soft.

"Who is it?"

A voice came from behind the door.

Just that one "Who is it?", with the lingering tone at the end of the sentence, is enough to conjure up half a picture in one's mind.

Lazy, soft, with a slight upward inflection at the end, like a cat rubbing against your ankle.

Immediately afterwards, the door creaked open.

A woman wearing a gray wool thermal underwear stood behind the door, as if the screams and chase had never happened.

That woman was indeed beautiful.

Her blonde hair was loosely braided into a single plait and draped over her left shoulder, with the ends curling into natural waves.

Her skin was so white it was almost transparent, and a thin, bluish vein could be seen on one side of her neck.

Her eyes were a very light honey color, and her pupils always seemed to have two shimmering watery glints floating in them. When she looked at people, her eyebrows were slightly raised, and she had a smile that naturally captivated people's hearts.

She had a voluptuous and sexy figure. Her waist was slender, her shoulders were narrow, and the two mounds on her chest stretched the wool sweater so tightly that every line of the fabric was faintly visible.

A woman's scent, like that of a perfectly ripe peach about to burst with juice, wafts over you.

Is it that strong?

Ivan was startled.

He had anticipated this beforehand.

But seeing it with my own eyes, the anger that had been suppressed in my throat suddenly surged up.

She wasn't even a fifth as beautiful as Erdin, who was dressed in noble and dignified attire.

But she is ten times more alluring than Erdin.

"Who are you looking for?"

The woman's voice was timid, and she instinctively raised her hand to cover her slightly open collar.

This one action, ironically, made the thought of "wanting to tear her clothes off" jump straight to his throat.

That delicate feeling was like hooking a man's fingertip with an extremely fine thread and then gently pulling it down.

Ibn instinctively swallowed and composed himself.

“I’m looking for Carey. We were fellow patients in the drug trial, and I’m here to see how he is.”

The woman said "oh," her eyes darted around, and without asking any further questions, she turned around and shouted into the house.

"Kerry! Someone is looking for you."

Soon, accompanied by heavy footsteps that could have dented the wooden floorboards, the bearded Kerry walked over.

His once grey-blue eyes were now cloudy, like two oil-soaked glass marbles, staring blankly at Evan.

"who are you?"

Just one week.

He no longer recognized Evan.

Evan countered with a question.

And who are you?

Carey was stunned by the question and froze at the door, his brows furrowing and relaxing, his eyes slowly rolling around in their sockets, and then he just stood there, dumbfounded.

Seizing the moment, Evan stepped forward, grabbed the large hand and pressed it against Carey's chest. Using the force, he pushed himself through the door and then slammed it shut with a "click."

The coppery fingernails sank into the palm of his left hand, transforming into a thin, sharp blade.

Stab it!

Kerry’s sweater was torn in two by a claw.

The next second, what he saw made the veins on Ivan's forehead throb.

Kerry's body didn't get stronger.

It has mutated.

The skin, pressed down by the clothes, looked as if it had been stretched open from the inside, covered with all sorts of twisted and hideous warts.

That's no longer a pathological condition.

That's distortion.

They come in all sorts of shapes and colors.

Some are bluish-gray, some are purplish-red, some have an orange-yellow hue similar to sea anemones, and some are even slowly wriggling, like swollen bumps pushed up from under the skin by some living thing.

That is, in this very instant.

The woman's voice, which had been so gentle it seemed to drip with honey, suddenly turned cold.

"You're quite an interesting person."

"Instead of staring at the beautiful women when you enter the house, tear off the male homeowner's clothes and stare at them first."

"Kid, are you even a decent man?"

Ivan slowly raised his head.

Beneath the felt hat, a pair of golden, vertical pupils pierced through the dimly lit entrance hall, looking directly at the woman standing in the hallway.

"What do you think, madam?"

The woman gave a cold snort, and the previous layer of peach sweetness was peeled away completely in an instant.

"The Witcher".

She uttered those three words.

“I could smell the stench of the potion on you from far away.”

She raised her fingers and slowly, gently pressed her temples.

"Let me give you a piece of advice: mind your own business here. Otherwise, I wouldn't mind killing a few superhumans for fun."

Ivan sized her up.

In the demon hunter's vision, the extraordinary aura emanating from her was so black it resembled asphalt seeping from a crack in a wall, so thick it was almost dripping with water.

She is not human.

She is a demon.

"I guess you won't tell me what you're planning to do, right?"

Evan took off his felt hat, shook off the few grains of coal dust stuck to the brim, revealing a head of silver hair.

The woman's eyes suddenly turned into two pools of pitch black.

The next second, a black, semi-fluid, semi-solid tentacle suddenly appeared out of thin air behind her.

Bang!

The tentacles pierced through the air and coiled towards Evan's chest.

Ivan's reaction was so fast it was almost silent.

His left hand shot out like a snake, his five fingers gripping the base of the tentacle firmly, and then he pulled it sharply toward his chest.