— Judgment Behind the Mask —
A cold voice cut through the air as a figure emerged like a phantom, commanding everyone's attention.
He wore a Power Ranger mask, his black clothes swaying slightly in the wind, his posture straight as a spear. An aura of composed yet overwhelming pressure seemed to freeze the very air.
"I have failed you,Overlord!" Darius dropped to one knee, head bowed deeply.
Eren gave a slight nod, his gaze steady and deep as the ocean.
A fervent light ignited in Lyra's eyes. She stumbled forward, almost tripping in her haste. Every time this mysterious man appeared, it was like a sharp blade cutting through her despair.
Eren's gaze swept past the others, sharp as a honed edge, and pinned Adrian where he stood.
"A coward hiding behind a mask—you're supposed to be Darius's master?" Adrian sneered, then spat at Lyra. "And you... still have someone willing to throw himself away for you? Maybe you'd be better off crawling into my bed—"
Before he could finish—
THUD!
A devastating blow, swift as thunder, slammed into his abdomen. Adrian was sent flying through the air, his body spinning wildly before crashing down to the ground over ten meters away.
He coughed blood, pain ripping through him. Trembling, he pointed at Eren and howled, "You... you hit me?! I'll—Gary! Break his legs! Make him beg!"
As the young master of the Trinity Syndicate, he had been coddled since childhood, never once touched. Being publicly humiliated and beaten like this drove him into a frenzy of rage and shame.
"You bastard! How dare you lay a hand on our Young Master! Die!" The Gary brothers roared in unison, lunging forward with their full power, killing intent erupting from them.
Yet—
Eren simply raised his hand and delivered a seemingly casual, open-palmed strike. A force like an exploding shockwave swept past, sending both Gary brothers flying several meters through the air. They hit the ground hard, vomiting blood before they could even make a sound.
"So... so strong..." Their eyes were wide with sheer terror. They were both Adept-tier Warriorrs, yet they couldn't even withstand a single move from him! This wasn't a man; it was a monster!
"Useless trash!" Adrian fumed, but the sight of his men crumpled at his feet swallowed his swagger.
Eren walked forward slowly, each step measured. He looked down at Adrian with an expression that belonged to winter.
"You said you wanted me on my knees," Eren said softly.
"So what if I did? Not only will I make you kneel, I'll make you watch how I play with your wom—"
"In that case," Eren's voice was icy and merciless, "your journey ends here."
He flicked his finger. A streak of spiritual fire shot through the air, instantly striking Adrian's chest.
"Ahhh—!"
A piercing, agonized scream tore through the area. The flames visibly consumed his body, and within mere seconds, Adrian was reduced to a pile of ashes.
Darius stared, utterly stunned—his overlord was not only a Grandmaster-tier Warriorr but also a spellcaster capable of controlling spiritual fire!
Gary, who had been feigning death, witnessed everything through a slit in his eyes. His soul nearly fled his body in terror. Pointing a trembling finger at Eren, he stammered, "Y-you... you killed the Young Master! You're a dead man!"
Eren smiled once, faint and chilling. "Scum," he said. "Killing him means nothing." He turned on his heel, cold and imposing. "Tell the leader of the Trinity Syndicate this: if they want revenge, let them come. But if they bring innocents into this—then the Syndicate need not exist."
Gary shuddered violently, cold sweat pouring down his back as he nodded frantically. "I-I will relay the message!"
As Eren prepared to leave, his eyes fell upon the license plate of a parked Bentley—NA68688.
He paused slightly, then walked over to Lyra's side, giving her a deep, searching look.
"Wait—don't go." Lyra chased after him a few steps, eyes wet with gratitude and something unnamed. She wanted, desperately, to rip off that cold mask and see the face behind it.
But Eren didn't look back.
— Killing Intent Before the Ashes —
The atmosphere in the Trinity Syndicate headquarters was so heavy it was almost suffocating.
The syndicate leader, Marcus Voss, stared at the cold urn of ashes on the table, his eyes deep and unreadable.
"Young... suspected Grandmaster-tier Warriorr, and could cast spells?" he murmured, his voice low and grating, as if chewing gravel. "Since when has such a figure appeared in Novalis Sector?"
"Boss, this all happened because of Lyra Veyne from HelixPharm," Gary hurriedly added.
"—Lyra?" Marcus's eyes sharpened instantly, a flash of cold light passing through them. His voice venomous and winding like a snake. "I'll give you a chance to atone for your failure—find out the identity of that mysterious man within three days!"
He rose slowly, his voice erupted into a near roar: "I will have him turned into a desiccated corpse, to appease the spirit of my son Adrian in the afterlife!"
— Whispers Beneath the Blood Sigil —
Back in his cell, Eren immediately contacted Darius: "Investigate the Bentley with license plate NA68688. Find out who was using it previously."
Having given the order, he once again buried himself in the Veyne family case files, searching for a breakthrough clue.
Knock knock— The sound broke the silence in the room.
"Aveline? Come in," Eren said without looking up.
The door opened, and Aveline walked in, her expression grave. She pulled up a chair and sat opposite him. Her voice was hushed, as if concealing a wound she wasn't willing to show. "Eren, there's something... I need your help with."
Eren looked up at her, pausing for a moment—thinking the mark on her face had returned and she needed healing. But upon closer inspection, the mark was completely gone; clearly, the previous three treatments had worked.
"Go on," he said in a low voice. "Tell me directly."
"This is what happened—" Aveline began recounting the story in detail.
Her father, Carl, had been a narcotics officer who worked long-term undercover.
A year ago, he helped the police take down a drug trafficking ring and killed its leader.
Not long after, Carl was murdered. When his body was found, it had become a charred, desiccated corpse—identical to several other recent mummified corpse cases in Novalis Sector, the body uniformly blackened as if scorched by fire.
The police suspected it was connected to a drug lord who had escaped—a man who was now captured and imprisoned in this very facility.
The case alarmed the GVA. To avenge her father, Aveline requested a transfer to this male prison as a guard.
But after more than six months of relentless effort, she had made no progress.
Having recently witnessed Eren's various extraordinary methods, she felt he might have a way to make the drug lord talk.
Eren listened, a deep respect settling within him. Those who fought against drugs walked in darkness, their sacrifices unforgettable.
"Leave this to me," he responded solemnly. "I'll extract everything he knows."
Aveline was so excited she nearly jumped up, immediately leading him to a special cell.
Inside sat a brawny man in his forties, meditating cross-legged, yet exuding a ferocious aura, like a vicious beast ready to pounce at any moment. A hammer tattoo was etched on his neck, and his entire demeanor radiated cunning and malice.
"His name is Harry. He was the second-in-command of the Crimson Tide drug ring."
Aveline showed no courtesy, kicking the brawny man awake. "Harry, get up!"
Harry rolled his eyes and cursed foully. "Dammit, you again! I told you, don't waste your time trying to get anything out of me!"
But upon seeing Aveline, a lecherous grin spread across his face. "Well, well, the old hag's turned pretty. Come here, let me have some fun, and maybe I'll throw you a scrap of information."
Aveline instantly flew into a rage. She snatched her stun baton, cranked it to the highest setting, and pressed it hard against his body.
Harry convulsed violently, foaming at the mouth and howling in agony. When he finally caught his breath, he became even more arrogantly defiant. "I'm the one who killed your dad, Carl. I'm the one who turned him into a dried-up corpse—what are you gonna do about it?"
Aveline restrained her killing intent like a wild beast, her voice icy. "I can't do anything to you. But he can—"
Eren stepped forward, his expression blank as he stared down at Harry.
Harry smirked contemptuously. "Sending a kid to interrogate me? Are you looking down on me? If you want me to talk, let me have my fun first!" He burst into loud laughter.
A cold smile tugged at the corner of Eren's mouth. Silently, he summoned the Obsidian Sigil within his mind, retrieving an ancient formation from the depths of his memory—tthe Liuren Heart-Compelling Method.
.
This technique could directly probe the mind, but required the caster's spiritual awareness to be stronger than the target's, and its effects lasted only one hour.
Harry continued his taunts, jeering, "Go on, give it your best shot."
He never expected Eren to completely bypass conventional methods. In a swift motion, Eren used his finger to puncture Harry's brow, then used the blood as ink to draw a formation pattern on his chest and abdomen.
"What are you doing?!" A sudden sense of foreboding gripped Harry's heart.
Eren chanted an incantation and slapped his palm against Harry's forehead. The bloody sigils suddenly glowed brightly, writhing like living things before burrowing into Harry's body.
The next instant, Harry's eyes flew wide open—his expression shifting in a heartbeat. The sly malice that had filled his face moments ago drained away, leaving behind only blank terror.
He trembled, his voice breaking like a puppet forced to speak.
"Actually... the one you killed back then wasn't our real boss..."
The words hit Aveline like a thunderclap.
Her pulse spiked as she shot forward. "Then who's the real boss?"
Harry's brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his fear-stricken face.
"I... I don't know who he is. I only saw him once—he stepped out of a car with the plate number NA68688..."
Eren's eyes narrowed, a dangerous gleam flashing within. "And what does he look like?"
Harry's entire body stiffened. His pupils dilated, voice trembling as though the memory itself was choking him.
"He only comes out at night... wrapped in black mist. He's not someone you can afford to provoke. He... cultivates using the living—turning people into corpses drained dry."