"The price? Hahahaha! Sorry, it's been far too long since anyone said that word to me."
As though he had heard something amusing, Isley pressed a hand to his forehead and burst into wild laughter, his entire body shaking uncontrollably as he laughed.
As the No. 1 of the first male Claymores, he had yet to encounter anyone who could make him feel wary.
Whether it was Ricarudo, who had repeatedly challenged him and ultimately failed, Riful, the No. 1 of the first female Claymores who became the second Abyssal after awakening, or Luciela, the third Abyssal born from the failure of the Organization's Dark Twin Plan, Isley believed he could kill or defeat any of them with absolute certainty if he went all out.
He firmly believed he was the strongest, and that being strong gave him an inherent right to rule over everything in the world.
So what if his subordinates killed a few ordinary people? What did it matter even if they slaughtered entire cities and towns?
Although he occasionally displayed a little lingering human compassion, his mind had fundamentally been assimilated by the genes of the Dragon's Descendants. He no longer considered himself human, but some "higher life form" that transcended humanity.
In particular, anyone who wasn't blind could sense the arrogance he unwittingly exuded.
Allen simply couldn't understand where an artificially created "unfinished test subject," possibly even the product of a failed experiment, had gotten this inexplicable sense of superiority.
Was it because these creatures fed on human organs?
Or because they possessed seemingly astonishing physiques and terrifying muscular strength?
In the end, ignorance bred fearlessness.
As a native who had never left this island in his entire life, Isley had no idea what the outside world was like. Nor did he know that across