"Tremor Sense!"
Flustered, Cain accidentally shouted the spell.
'Where? What's happening?'
The shardlings started closing in from all directions.
A tingle hit his spine — just like when Grandpa's warnings turned into bloodied bruises.
"I'll drag you to the edge of death every day for a year. Get used to it."
'No time for melodrama for the old man! Focus!'
A sidestep then a twist.
Cain spun. The lion jumped. Mid-motion, their eyes locked.
One with clear malice, the other dull and cold.
Blood streaked Cain's cheek as the gauntlet grazed past, its edge biting like a steel fang.
'Was I too trusting?'
As their eyes were about to break away, Cain smiled.
The lion grinned back and mouthed.
"Stupid boy."
It was clear now, this lionare was faking his stupidity.
While Cain? He knew it was an act from the start.
Twenty charged shots. He never used them.
The back of the lion was fully exposed.
Click — fully automatic engaged.
Three to the head. Three to the heart.
Three more to the spine.
'Just in case the bastard had tricks left in him.'
Before the body hit the dirt — another shot.
A final shot — clean, from nape to groin.
All done with solid tungsten rounds.
The lionaire was no more.
Cain dipped his left arm under his firing hand and let off two clean shots.
The pygmy's eyes widened — too slow to process, yet fast enough to see two plasma beams streaking straight for them.
"Ah, Shit."
Blinding pain seared through his thick pygmy skull.
The elephant hit the ground, howling, hands clamped to his face as blood leaked between his fingers.
Four holoprojectors with speakers scattered in different directions, drawing the attention of the shardlings away.
"I wanted them to go with a boom, but oh well."
Cain retrieved three bombs from the lion's body and five more from the elephant. He then took their terminals and slipped them into his bag.
Cain tapped the device.
Earth Pit. The lion's body sank — swallowed by the soil in silence.
[Recording Stopped]
[Crime Successfully Reported]
The elephant scrambled back, blood oozing from his trunk.
"Please man! Let me live! I was only forced to do it!"
"Yeah right. Was he your young master too?"
Looking at the begging elephant for his life, Cain had no pity at all.
He imbued his sword with magicules — then sliced, limb by limb.
'I should be able to create a bigger trap with this.'
He saved the living torso for later, ripped out its screaming cords, and cauterized the raw hole it left behind.
Cain triggered air purification.
Stripping the stench of gore from the air — a clean, sterile veil over fresh violence.
With its jaws dislocated and removed, the elephant could only sit there — like a slab of meat turned stone
"I told you. I'm just here to make money. You just wasted that crystal!"
Cain carved pit after pit, forcing the elephant's massive limbs into the earth.
Its body still drew shallow breaths, but he buried it anyway, sealing flesh and breath beneath packed soil.
"Oh, I forgot something."
He dug the body up and strapped on a respirator. The traitor's meat still had value.
'Yeah… not exactly the networking opportunity I imagined.'
[Session Over]
Cain's terminal beeped as the timer rang.
"They're smarter than I expected"
A whistle in the wind, something fast coming from behind.
He rolled as a hammering strike slammed down where he'd stood.
Left. Right. Back. Front.
Cain was surrounded.
The shardlings closed in, fast and silent.
"Roar!"
A deafening roar tore through the air, shaking the earth — the cry of a titan sentinel.
'The internet is such a great tool.'
The effect was instant. Fear took root.
Terror seized the shardling's body. Its limbs buckled, head lowering instinctively, as if groveling might spare it.
'Pushovers.'
Cain walked off, unfazed, like he owned every stone beneath his feet.
Passing the shardlings, he scooped up the lion's gauntlet and the elephant's staff.
'Looks fancy, are these mystics operated?'
He twirled the staff — solid weight, balanced. He smacked a nearby shardling just to test it out.
"This staff is pretty good. Better bail before they figure out it was all fake."
He'd isolate them, one by one. More efficient. Less costly
'That'll at least save me a few silvers.'
He already had a spot in mind. Firing into a nearby clay mound, he blasted open a hollow, sealed the entrance, and set up an oxygen device for air.
His muscles began to ease, but the fan's breeze hit the scrape on his face, making him flinch.
"Ouch!"
He took a medicine kit from his backpack.
Healing magic existed, sure. He simply avoided it due to its heavy stamina cost.
'Cain, don't forget. Healing's for idiots who can't dodge.'
"I already know old man! Get out of my head!"
He dabbed iodine onto his cheek with cotton, wincing at the sting.
'How will I face my clients in the future if I have this ugly scar. I better get someone to fix me up later.'
While stretching the gauze around, a sudden notification rang on his terminal.
[Social] [1]
"What's this?"
[From: Protected States Justice Bureau]
[Message: The recording has been verified as fully authentic, with no evidence of tampering or falsehood. As restitution, the State will transfer the full monetary assets of both individuals implicated in the attempted murder.]
[May the spirit of our fellow men be with you.]
[Received: 1 Gold - 81 Silver]
"Poor bastards, this barely covers my hospital bills."
Cain was no stranger to the law. In the eyes of the system, humans, demons, or beastmen — it made no difference.
With proof on record, the law didn't ask. It took compensation in full.
'I guess money and knowledge makes the world go round after all.'
Cain drew his tablet and spotted the shardlings, still flattened to the earth, bodies low, trembling in silent submission.
'Let's move them around a little bit.'
With a command, the speakers flew to different vantage points, he needed them later for his machinations.
As the sounds went off the shardlings roused and started discussing in low pitched tones.
Their melodic symphony was like hushes of baritone singers. Murmuring about whose voice they heard at the opera house.
'Too bad they're titans, these things could've made great music.'
With a breath, he took off his backpack, layered with secret compartments, unraveled like a tactical spider's web.
Cain scanned the materials at his feet, mind ticking.
'I need to make this worth my time. Time is a priceless treasure after all.'
If he managed his reserves right, he could make it to another shardling site — and make more money.
"Let's start getting the good stuff."