Monster

"No, wait!"

Robert turned around in surprise. Hope was already standing behind him. The scythe was nowhere to be seen, but he wore a ruby ring on his hand, its hooked blade facing outward.

"Go to hell, Robert," Hope whispered, and drove his fist into Robert's left cheek.

The ring on his hand pierced Robert's face like a knuckle-duster, making his ugly old face look even worse.

Hope didn't press the attack. He held back his anger, stepped away, and watched Robert.

Robert fell to the floor, clutching the wound Hope had dealt him. He glared at Hope with such hatred that it gave Hope some comfort.

One, two, three...

Hope counted leisurely, watching to see how long Robert could hold on.

Four, five, six...

Something seemed off. Hope furrowed his brow. Robert didn't look like he was dying. Paul's wound had been shallower, yet he'd passed out sooner...

Hope sniffed. There seemed to be a fishy smell in the air...

He stared at Robert in astonishment. The readings Hope got from Robert were changing:

Agility: 1.00, Constitution: 1.87, Vision: 1.03, Mana: 0

A Constitution of 1.87?

Hope thought of the Great Night Hawk.

If Robert had had a Constitution of 1.87 just now...

Hope's thoughts were interrupted because the number kept changing: 1.90, 1.93, 1.96...

Robert's Constitution was rising at an astonishing rate.

It wasn't just the numbers. His body was changing, too. Small patches of dark green appeared on his skin. That green was only the beginning; it was spreading all over Robert's body.

His once-withered muscles were swelling before Hope's eyes. The fishy stench grew stronger. His golden hair fell out in handfuls, replaced by strange fin-like growths sprouting from his head.

He was turning from a human into a monster.

Realizing this, Hope hurriedly retrieved his scythe. It was his only weapon. Without hesitation, he swung it at Robert's neck...

A thick arm blocked the scythe. It wasn't a human arm; dark green scales covered it. The blade struck them like stone, leaving only a white mark.

It was Robert's arm.

Agility: 1.00, Constitution: 2.79, Vision: 1.03, Mana: 0

His Constitution finally stopped changing. The Robert before Hope had completely transformed into a "Fishman":

Only a little of his human form remained. His head had become entirely fishlike, with huge, bulging eyes that seemed to have no eyelids. Gills quivered on either side of his neck, and his long arms and legs were webbed.

The "Fishman" spoke, its voice hoarse and shrill. "This feels pretty good. I forgot to tell you, Hope: the poison on the ring is poison to ordinary people, but for those of us in the Miller Family... using it turns us into this."

The Fishman spread his huge hand. It moved so fast Hope couldn't react. It grabbed Hope by the neck and lifted him up.

Only then did Hope realize Robert was over two meters tall. He lifted Hope as easily as a little doll. Hanging in the air, Hope struggled to breathe as the grip compressed his windpipe. His face twisted in pain.

"I should thank you, Hope. I've always despised this form, but now that I've actually transformed, it feels surprisingly good."

He flexed his other arm as if still getting used to the change. "How should I thank you, Hope?"

"Ugh... ngh..."

The pressure on Hope's neck kept growing. That stinking green hand was nearly crushing his throat. The effects of struggling to breathe were setting in, too; dark spots filled his vision, and Hope was slowly losing consciousness...

He felt himself thrown across the room, crashing against the side of the bed. The hard wood pressed into his spine. His throat suddenly relaxed, and he greedily gulped in air.

"I've got it," Robert the Fishman said. "As thanks, I won't kill you this time. But there won't be a next time. When we meet again, I'll crush you into a ball of flesh."

It grabbed the doorknob and tried to leave.

"Hm?" It sounded confused, its muscles bulging.

"Damn it." Robert, now a Fishman, seemed even more irritable. It backed up a few steps and hurled its massive body against the entire wall, trying to smash a hole straight through it.

"Bang!"

After the tremendous crash, both the door and the wooden partition wall remained intact.

"Damn it!" It turned back. "Hope, what did you do?"

But Hope only stared at it in confusion. He didn't understand what had happened, either.

The Great Night Hawk had a Constitution of 1.89 and could tear apart Old Williams's wooden house. There was no way the partition walls in Whateley House could be so sturdy.

Robert grabbed the doorknob and yanked at it over and over. With its strength, even if the door had been locked from the outside, it should have been able to rip the whole thing off.

"Hope..." Robert seemed to be saying something, but its voice grew fainter and fainter, until its mouth moved without making a sound...

No, it wasn't just its voice. All sound was disappearing. A true silence settled over the room. Hope couldn't even hear himself breathing.

Something was pouring into the room. On the wooden wall in front of Robert, blurry, translucent substances were squeezing in through the cracks around the door and between the boards.

They had no color and looked like flowing water, yet they floated strangely, surrounded by white mist.

Hope instinctively felt they were dangerous. No numbers appeared in his mind as he looked at them. Either they weren't living things, or their readings were beyond the limits of what Hope could sense...

Hope quietly retreated a little.

Robert, already transformed into a Fishman, sensed something more. It stood frozen, staring at the translucent substances. The muscles on its ugly fish face, unlike those of a human, contorted into a horrifying expression of fear.

It tried frantically to lunge toward Hope, but those things had already wrapped around him.

They pulled it into the air. Like salt crystals dissolving in water, its body rapidly disappeared: first its black robe, then its scales, skin, flesh, bones, and organs. Soon, everything had become part of the translucent substance, without leaving a trace.

This monster, stronger than the Great Night Hawk, hadn't even been able to struggle.

The translucent things kept advancing. Nothing else around the room was damaged, but the stream at the front had already touched Paul.

Paul... Hope struggled to drag Paul's body toward him, but found he couldn't move at all. From the moment those things entered the room, nothing inside it had been able to resist.

Hope couldn't even close his eyes to avoid looking.

Old Whateley... I have to find a way to let Old Whateley know... Otherwise, not only will Paul's body be lost, but I'll die here, too...

Hope still had no idea what to do when he suddenly felt his body grow lighter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a hand reaching out from beneath the bed, clutching a strange wooden fragment.

The hand hesitated, then tossed the fragment. It spun through the air and landed right on Paul.

The transparent things stopped. They seemed to be hesitating—Hope was astonished that something like this could hesitate, but that was exactly what seemed to be happening—as the foremost stream carefully approached the wooden fragment.

A scream Hope couldn't describe, let alone imitate, suddenly rang out. He wanted to cover his ears, but the sound seemed never to have existed at all, leaving no memory in Hope's mind.

For a moment, he was dizzy and couldn't see anything. By the time his vision cleared, the transparent thing had disappeared.