"Where are they?" an Umbrella Corporation security guard shouted at his companion.
"Where's the enemy?"
"I can't see them! I can't see them!" another guard said, gripping his gun so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes darted around nonstop.
"How can you not see them?!" the first guard yelled.
"But I fucking can't see them!" the second guard screamed back.
"There's nothing! Not even a shadow! Jack and the others are all dead! The surveillance shows nothing either-AAAAAH!"
The scream cut off abruptly.
The first guard snapped his head over.
And finally understood what "can't see" meant.
Because there really was nothing there.
Something invisible pierced straight out of the screaming guard's chest.
If not for the blood clinging to it, faintly outlining the shape of a spear, it would have been completely imperceptible.
The guard reacted instantly, unloading his weapon toward the space behind his dying companion.
The bullets hit.
Sparks flew.
Metal rang out.
No blood.
The sudden flashes and heat distorted the air, refracting light just enough to weaken the stealth field.
The attacker was revealed.
"What the hell are you?!" the guard shouted, finger still squeezing the trigger.
The Predator calmly pulled its spear free and stepped forward.
"Slave. Your resistance is insignificant. You will pay with your life for your sins..." it declared in its own language.
To the guard, it was nothing more than a monster's roar.
He kept firing.
The Predator kept walking.
Bullets struck, deflected, scattered.
Not a single one caused damage.
For the guard, despair arrived in full.
What could be more terrifying than an enemy you couldn't hurt?
When the magazine finally ran dry, he broke.
He turned and ran.
He didn't know if escape was possible.
But fear and instinct were hard to suppress.
The Predator raised its spear.
The game was over.
Then-
Its body froze.
Mid-motion.
He felt it.
A killing intent.
Locked directly onto him.
Killing intent was a real thing.
An aura.
Hard to describe. Harder to control.
Animals shrinking before a butcher.
Criminals stiffening under a police officer's gaze.
Students falling silent when a homeroom teacher appears without warning.
Different auras. Different pressures.
Killing intent was the most extreme of them all.
And it required slaughter to be born.
For a species like the Predators, born for combat, their sensitivity to it was terrifyingly sharp.
"How... how can this exist?" the Predator thought.
"Is it the Alien Queen?"
His body trembled slightly beneath the armor.
He knew what that meant.
Fear.
Before even seeing the enemy.
That alone was disgraceful.
Not even a Predator Elder had ever given him this level of pressure.
This wasn't the aura of a warrior.
It felt like the intent of something that had ended a world.
Whose killing intent was this?
The Alien Queen?
No.
Absolutely not.
Then what was it?
And why was it aimed at him?
No.
He couldn't retreat.
He couldn't fall without even seeing his enemy.
That was dishonor.
Even in defeat, he had to die in battle.
If it was a powerful enemy, dying by its hand was not shameful.
Thoughts surged through his mind.
Desperation hardened into resolve.
He forced his body to turn.
The source was at the end of the corridor.
Getting closer.
Footsteps echoed.
The Predator's eyes widened.
"Clang."
His spear fully extended, blades locking into place.
Absolute battle mode.
Until now, he had only been playing with the humans.
Electric light flashed.
Once.
Then again.
Violent arcs of lightning flooded his vision.
An ancient longsword emerged from the corridor, crackling with power.
Then the hand.
The arm.
The figure.
Turning the corner and stepping fully into view.
"H... how is this possible?" the Predator muttered.
To him, all humans looked the same.
Different species. Different senses.
No shared aesthetics.
Appearance didn't matter.
Identity did.
"A slave...?" he whispered, momentarily losing focus.
"How can a slave have this kind of pressure?"
He couldn't accept it.
A slave with killing intent strong enough to crush resistance?
"What are you mumbling about?" Morin frowned, walking forward step by step.
Lightning surged more violently around the Sword of Eden.
"I don't understand your language," Morin said calmly,
"but your species really does deserve its reputation."
"There aren't many who can endure this much killing intent."
"You're one of them."
"Are you special," he asked, "or just average?"
Morin had killed many people in the assassin's world.
But that was insignificant.
He had destroyed an entire world.
The Precursors.
An entire species erased.
Gigantic beasts exterminated.
A mountain of corpses.
A sea of blood.
That kind of history left a mark.
After that, Morin had spent a long time learning to suppress his killing intent.
Now, he released a third of it.
Focused on one Predator.
And this one endured it.
That alone earned respect.
If it were an ordinary person, even one percent would have been enough to paralyze them.
But Morin rarely did this.
He preferred reasoning.
He was good at it.
If others refused to reason-
Then what was the point of getting stronger?
"Today was supposed to be a festive day," Morin said lightly.
"I didn't want to kill anyone."
He paused.
"Ahem. I originally didn't want to."
"But then I thought about it."
"Letting you stay arrogant isn't good."
"And you're not even human."
"So killing you doesn't count."
"I'll just treat it like killing a chicken or a duck for the New Year."
"You understand, right?"
The Predator didn't.
All he saw was a being advancing on him.
Killing intent sharp and focused.
Was this a threat?
A demand to surrender?
"No," the Predator roared internally.
He gripped his spear with both hands and took a battle stance.
"Fight me!"
Morin frowned slightly.
"...Do I need a translator?"
"The system gave me an Interstellar Federation veteran identity. It shouldn't have skipped basic communication tools."
"I probably didn't finish searching the villa."
"I'll deal with that later."
The Predator roared again.
Unable to endure the pressure any longer, he attacked.
The spear shot forward.
At the same time, his wrist flicked.
Two spinning circular blades burst out.
If he didn't strike first, he would never attack at all.
"Clang!"
Morin raised the Sword of Eden and blocked the spear.
He'd tested it on an Alien before.
Effortless kill. No damage.
Now he was testing Predator weapons.
The Predator's strength was overwhelming.
Just not compared to Morin.
Morin's arm didn't move.
The Sword of Eden didn't shake.
Reliable as ever.
"Strength... around [Body] 500," Morin judged calmly.
"What about reaction speed?"
He kicked the Predator away and slashed.
"Zing!"
Metal flew.
Half a mask spun through the air.
The Predator's face was exposed.
A ferocious, bestial visage.
A monster by human standards.
"Reaction speed... around [Body] 200," Morin muttered.
"And mental resistance?"
He narrowed his eyes.
[Hypnotic Suggestion].
Humans were treated as slaves by this species.
Morin couldn't accept that.
Bigger fists decided truth.
So he would see whose fist was bigger.
As Morin continued his "tests," cycling through abilities-
High above, an invisible battleship moved through the sky.
Predators were deployed wherever Aliens appeared.
"Elder," one reported.
"Ike has been injured."
"His condition is critical. He's sustaining continuous damage."
Their equipment recorded all combat data.
Intervention was forbidden.
Observation was not.
Death was a lesson.
"Did he encounter prey?" the Predator Elder asked calmly, eyes closed.
"A hunter can be killed by prey. That only proves he wasn't worthy."
"...That's not it," the subordinate hesitated.
"Then speak."
"Our scans show no weapons on this planet capable of this."
"It's not mass destruction. Not high-tech."
"It's... a creature."
"Same species as the slaves."
"And its physical ability completely surpasses Ike's."
The Elder opened his eyes.
"What?"
At the same time-
"Your strength is mediocre," Morin said.
Ike was embedded in the wall, barely conscious.
"You have technology and refuse to use it."
"All that worship of individual combat made me think you had something special."
He paused.
"The universe is strange."
"Spacefaring civilization."
"Still obsessed with barehanded honor."
"What a waste."
"If you added lasers, force fields, powered exoskeletons..."
"Along with stealth..."
"I might've actually needed to try."
"But this?"
"It's a massacre."
"Beep. Beep."
Morin turned toward the sound.
He picked up the device on the Predator's arm.
A small liquid crystal display.
If he remembered correctly-
One of their few real high-tech weapons.
A nuclear bomb?
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