Daniel stirred, finding himself once again submerged in that desolate, suffocating black void. A crushing weight tightened around his lungs, and a bitter scream erupted from his throat, shaking the very foundations of the abyss:
"Why?! Why do things always spiral into this wretchedness? Am I 'Cinderella,' destined to lose consciousness at every turn? Or 'Sleeping Beauty' waiting for a savior? Curse this frail body that imprisons my soul! How can I ascend the ladder of power while shackled by this pathetic weakness?"
Rage boiled in his veins like searing oil. A spark of pure malice consumed the last remnants of his humanity as he contemplated his humiliation before the 'System.' In that instant, a fragment of the darkness behind him coalesced into a shadow wearing a sinister, serpentine grin. It hissed into his ear:
"Yes... this is the fuel you require. Power is never granted; it is seized through the most ruthless means. It is the center, the axis. If you possess it, the entire world will fall prostrate at your feet."
Daniel awoke, but he did not wake alone. His heart had perished, and in its place, a cold vacuum was born. The 'Beast Boar' lunged in a frenzied rage. With a swift movement—too fast for the beast's eye to track—Daniel unsheathed his 'junk' sword and severed its horn at the root. The monster delivered a violent kick that sent him crashing through the trunks of massive trees, but he stood up with a haunting stillness, as if his body had forgotten the language of pain. He leaped like a rebellious shadow and drove his blade deep into the beast's skull. Amidst the dying shrieks, Daniel shredded the head with his steel again and again, warm blood drenching his face. He whispered to himself with freezing indifference:
"This is how I must be... a killing machine without feeling. No pain, no sorrow, no regret to restore what was lost. Death was my companion, but life... life is now my prey."
The System window flickered with a cold light: [Leveled Up... Training Period Concluded]. Daniel emerged from that temporal hell; his hair had turned white as a shroud, his eyes glowed with the hue of freshly spilled blood, and the 'Star of Death' sat upon his neck like a cursed seal. He returned to the palace, cleansed himself of the stench of death, and ventured into the city clad in a darkness that mirrored his heart.
Seeing the announcement of his death and hearing his father's hollow eulogy, he let out a laugh that chilled the bone:
"Two whole months before you remembered my death? 'Rescuing a friend'? What a pathetic charade! You never bothered to search for my corpse; you swallowed the lie just to rid yourself of the shame of my existence."
Standing before his abandoned grave, he spat upon his past and muttered: "The weakling has been buried... but I have been reborn."
Donning his black mask, he headed to the Guild, where he met the traitors on a D-Rank mission. They whispered mockingly: "Did you see that loser's obituary? A death befitting a weakling like him!" They did not realize that Death itself was walking behind them.
In a dead-end corridor within the dungeon, the hour of reckoning arrived. Daniel turned and removed his mask, a grin splitting his face like an open wound. The blood froze in their veins. One shrieked in terror: "You?! Impossible! You're a ghost... You can't return from the grave!"
Daniel replied in a hollow voice: "I have returned from hell to take you back with me."
The brute among them roared, trying to reclaim his courage: "Why are you trembling? You've forgotten he's just a weak insect!" He lunged with his fist, but Daniel caught his arm. With a savage twist, he ripped the limb from the shoulder, sending a fountain of salt-blood spraying across his face. The brute tried to reach for his axe with his other hand, but Daniel was faster; he rose above the man and, with a fist of iron, crushed his skull in a single blow, dropping him into a pool of brain matter and gore.
The sorceress began hurling fireballs in a panic, but he toyed with them like an untouchable shadow. He snatched a stone from the ground and hurled it with lethal precision; it pierced her forehead and embedded itself in the wall behind her. She slumped over, a lifeless husk, her eyes staring into nothingness. He turned to the healer who was desperately trying to save her, only to emerge from her shadow and drive a poisoned dagger into her shoulder, paralyzing her instantly. She pleaded with her eyes: "Dani..." but he gave her no respite. He seized her head and wrenched her neck until the vertebrae snapped, leaving her a mangled corpse.
Finally, he turned to his last "friend," who was trembling and wetting himself in terror. Daniel said with a hysterical grin:
"Only you remain... let us enjoy this. How do you prefer to go? Skin flayed slowly, or bones wrenched from your flesh while you still breathe?"
The friend threw a vial of toxic incense at his face and fled, but Daniel emerged from the poisonous mist, smiling: "That won't work, my dear."
In a final act of desperate courage, the traitor stabbed Daniel in the chest with his dagger. Daniel didn't dodge. He let the blade sink into his flesh, looking into his friend's eyes and laughing: "Is this all you have? I thought you were going to cut my vitals, but this is nothing more than a pathetic prick."
In the blink of an eye, Daniel gripped his friend's throat and tore it out with his bare hands, without a shred of mercy. The body collapsed, twitching in its own blood, while Daniel stood fully crimson—a masterpiece titled 'Grief.'
At that moment, the B-Rank warrior watched the scene in a paralyzing daze. Daniel turned to him slowly, his red eyes radiating a demonic light. To the man, he did not look human; he looked like the King of Death himself—a living skull with eyes of fire. Daniel said with killing calm:
"You have seen something the living were never meant to behold... Now, it is time for your eternal silence."