Red Heart's Debt Could Never Be Repaid

Birmingham, Lower District, near the edge of the city, inside a newly renovated office.

"Ah, thank you so much, Mr. Red Heart, and the Holy Grail Cult!"

A middle-aged man in a suit, with a bald crown ringed by sparse hair, spoke excitedly into the receiver of his landline.

"Thanks to your sponsorship, our pharmaceutical factory has been thriving. And now you've sent over such a huge batch of raw materials. I don't even know how to thank you!"

As if infected by the man's joy, the hoarse male voice on the other end rose in pitch, taking on a hint of pleasure.

"That's wonderful, Mr. Stevens. I imagine you've distributed all the potions by now."

Though phrased as a question, Red Heart's tone was utterly certain, as if he were simply describing an undeniable reality.

"Of course!"

Stevens thumped his chest as he assured him. "No one can resist this feeling. No one!"

A month ago, if someone had told Stevens that youth could be bought, he would probably have scoffed. He might even have considered sending the person to Sacred Heart Hospital to have their head examined.

That was, until Mr. Red Heart arrived with the Holy Grail Cult's formula and samples.

It was like a dream. When Stevens unlocked his office, Mr. Red Heart was already sitting on the sofa. He grasped Stevens's hand irresistibly and enthusiastically recommended the crimson potion in the test tube.

Perhaps he'd been swept up by that enthusiasm. Stevens, who had meant to berate him, accepted the potion in a daze. He savored the sweetness flowing over his tongue and felt warmth spread through his body. Before he knew it, his hand was signing his name in the lower-right corner of the contract.

And so the long-idle production line roared back to life. Using the raw materials Mr. Red Heart provided, it began manufacturing the potion he called "Kiss of the Holy Grail."

A string of orders brought the Stevens family's nearly bankrupt pharmaceutical factory back to life. More and more unfamiliar faces appeared in the workshops, and an air of joy filled every corner, from the owner himself to the lowest-ranking production workers.

Something still felt off, but Stevens's mind no longer had room for something as complicated as "doubt."

He could never repay Mr. Red Heart's kindness!

And now, Red Heart had sent over an unprecedented truckload of raw materials. Stevens could only be overwhelmed with gratitude.

"I understand. Well done. There's just one last thing I need to ask of you, Mr. Stevens."

The hoarse male voice continued through the receiver, its tone turning solemn.

"Please, become a Sacrifice."

Huh?

What did he mean?

Sacri—

"Boom!"

A liquid of wildly shifting colors sloshed inside a literally glowing, heat-radiating flask. It was tossed over the pharmaceutical factory's perimeter fence, and the moment it shattered, a deafening blast rang out. Billowing gray smoke poured forth, quickly engulfing the entire factory.

Through the haze, twisted figures approached, guided by scent. They bared their fangs and lunged.

A burly man in a leather jacket stepped through the breach where the blast had brought down the wall. He grabbed the head of a humanoid beast that sprang at him and slammed it to the ground.

"Ghh..."

Even with its spine snapped by that fierce impact, the monster opened its drool-slicked maw and still tried to bite the man's boot.

"Get lost."

Irritably kicking aside the monster, which could no longer get back up, Ralph rubbed his fists together. They cracked loudly.

As an active mercenary in the Golden Wolf Mercenary Corps, Ralph Vogleita certainly wasn't afraid of these unfinished creatures. They didn't even have a First Seal and attacked on instinct alone. He'd killed countless beasts stronger than them in the border campaigns.

What made him uneasy was the timing of their break-in, which couldn't have been worse.

How had the employees, who'd been fine just moments ago, suddenly transformed after they came inside?

Too much of a coincidence.

A coincidence suspicious enough to raise questions.

"Ralph, why are you just standing there? Three Abominations are charging at you from the one o'clock direction. They're moving fast."

The ribbon tied around his wrist before they set out grew warm. Purple writing appeared on it, the strokes still fresh.

A member of the Saint Hydra Society who had embarked on the Path of Record, Sophia had a spiritual vision broad enough to encompass the entire factory. She kept watch on dozens of red dots representing monsters, tracking their movements and issuing timely warnings.

The Fog of War Olive had concocted earlier had obscured the infected's sharpest senses of smell and sight. It also contained the effects within the factory, turning the battlefield into a one-sided series of eliminations.

Unfortunately, the enemy's numbers still exceeded their expectations!

On the rooftop of the nearest building to the factory, Olive expressionlessly took an ampoule from her waist. She slowly dripped a viscous black liquid onto the crystalline red, needle-shaped mineral inside, then shook it.

Silver Salt Alchemy began.

This time, she'd make something huge!

Beside her, even as the wind disheveled her pinned-up hair, Sophia stared into the wind, eyes wide as she looked toward the enormous red dot that had suddenly appeared in her spiritual vision.

Something was wrong.

This was absolutely more than just destroying a small hideout.

Something big was coming!

At the same time, startled by the commotion outside, Stevens's legs gave way and he fell to the floor. Clutching the receiver in horror as if it were his only lifeline, he begged for help in a trembling voice.

"Mr. Red Heart, are you there? Help me, help me! There are so many monsters outside!"

The only answer to his inhuman howls was the dial tone.

"Beep, beep, beep, beep—"

As he listened to the tone, Stevens seemed to suddenly understand something he'd been overlooking. He froze in place, coughing violently.

Human organs spilled from his open mouth and landed on the newly purchased carpet. As they rolled, blood spread across it.

His eyes turned scarlet, filled with bestial hunger and madness. Stevens's body swelled, and swelled, and swelled again. Thick fur covered his bulging muscles. His mutated claws flailed unconsciously, sweeping the office furniture away like rubbish.

The long-planted seeds of evil took root and blossomed into a vivid flower. The newly embodied Wolf Feaster broke through the wall as easily as snapping a soda cracker. It leapt from the office and charged at the nearest living thing, gorging itself on flesh and blood without distinguishing friend from foe.

An Abomination!

On the surface, a fierce battle had only just begun.

But in the semi-underground production workshop, the one-sided battle was already over.

The entire production line was fused together by proliferating flesh buds, forming a grotesque body that could only be glimpsed in nightmares.

A hundred legs, a hundred arms, a hundred eyes.

Steel for bone, flesh for clothing. The terrifying monster, which should have taken heavy weapons to subdue, now lay sprawled on the ground as if it had curled up in its nest. Its lesser limbs spasmed, gouging streaks across the floor.

Its massive body had been split down the middle into two halves, each exactly the same size and weight.

The cut was like a mirror.

"Huh?"

Sitting atop the monster's steel carapace, Veronica clutched the glowing tablet in her hand and demanded in a low voice,

"What do you mean, 'you don't know'?"