The apartment was silent. The high-rise lights of Seoul cast a pale glow through the full-length windows, flickering over Marcus's face like dying stars. He stood still in front of the glass, his breath fogging the surface faintly, the city below unaware of the monster stirring within its walls.
Anomaly's voice cut through the silence.
"You've gotten stronger, Marcus. But strength means nothing if you don't understand your function."
Marcus turned around, still gripping the silver tablet that Anomaly had conjured—his new "System Menu"—an elegant, glitch-pulsing screen listing skills he hadn't even known were inside him. His heart thudded. Too many words. Too much power.
"Function?" Marcus muttered. "You make it sound like I'm some… tool."
Anomaly's laugh was soft, warped like it passed through static. "You are a tool. A divine construct—rebuilt from blood, fear, and hunger. But unlike the others, you're not a puppet."
The screen flickered again.
[SYSTEM MENU]
Core Status: Semi-Unlocked
Skills:
Devour [Lv.3] – Absorb physical and spiritual essence.
Tactical Management – A false interface masking Anomaly's true system.
Skill Fusion (Proto) – Combine similar abilities into greater forms.
Glitch Drift – Movement enhanced through system interference.
Silent Null – Temporarily silences skill activation around target.
"Wait…" Marcus frowned. "This fusion skill. That wasn't there before."
"I evolved it," Anomaly said. "It's crude, but effective. You'll need it when the real fights begin."
"I thought you wanted me to join the Guild so I can blend in. Build a life. Do some missions. Get by."
"That was a half-truth," Anomaly replied coolly. "The Guild is a feeding ground. That's why I need you there."
Marcus froze.
"Feeding… ground?"
Anomaly's form stepped forward from the shadows. The mask's glitching grin seemed almost human for a second, like he pitied Marcus. Or maybe admired him.
"You think Phase One ended with Bethany? No. It only opened the core's gate."
Marcus remembered the devouring. The way her voice screamed without sound. The weight of her dying thoughts in his chest. His stomach turned.
"I did what I had to. But it was survival."
"It was evolution," Anomaly corrected. "She was the first. The others will come soon. You've already felt the second fragment calling."
Marcus slammed the tablet on the table.
"You used me. All of this—"
"I guided you," Anomaly said. "You think you would've made it this far on your own? You'd be another body in that apartment complex. Another failed summoning. Another forgotten soul. But now look at you."
"Feeding on people?! That's what this is about?"
Anomaly crossed his arms. "Not people. Hunters. They're not like others. Their bodies are tempered by combat. Their skills have evolved. Their minds are sharper, more refined. Their souls burn brighter. Each one devoured pushes your core further toward completion."
Marcus felt his legs give. He dropped onto the couch like the weight of it all finally caught up.
"You said I could choose," he whispered. "You told me I wasn't a puppet."
"You aren't. That's why I'm telling you now." Anomaly walked to the window. "The Guild will test you. Mission after mission. But some of them—some—are hiding things. Secrets. Locked powers. I designed the system in a way that it's attracted to those like you. You'll find them. Or they'll find you."
Marcus gripped the couch.
"And I'm supposed to just… what? Smile? Pretend I'm part of their team? Wait for the right moment and consume them?"
"No," Anomaly said. "You are to adapt. Learn. And feel. If they don't deserve it—if they aren't useful to your evolution—leave them. But if they are…"
His mask tilted slightly.
"Devour."
Marcus felt his breath quicken. "And if I don't?"
Anomaly didn't answer right away.
"I'll respect it," he finally said. "But then we'll both be devoured. Because when the real gods return—and they will—you'll need every ounce of power just to survive. They're already watching."
Marcus looked at the flickering skill list. The names didn't mean anything to him. But something beneath the words it pulsed like a heartbeat.
"You said Bethany was the first. How many are left?"
"Three more fragments," Anomaly said. "And only you can collect them. The next one is close. Korea wasn't random. It was chosen."
Marcus shook his head. "This is madness."
"No, Marcus," Anomaly said, stepping closer. "This is war. And you are the only weapon they never saw coming."
A silence followed. Even Fang wasn't around to add a sarcastic jab. The city beyond the window kept flickering, oblivious to the storm brewing inside this room.
Finally, Marcus stood. His eyes looked different now—faintly glowing, like an ember left too long in the dark.
"If I do this…"
Anomaly waited.
"I choose who dies. Not you. Not the system. Not some damn divine plan."
Anomaly tilted his head. "Fair enough."
Marcus reached out and picked up the tablet again. The stats glowed—his stats. His power.
"Just one thing," Marcus said, voice low. "No more lies. You ever hide something again, and I swear, I'll tear you out of my head and throw you into the void."
Anomaly's glitch-flicker paused.
"…Deal," he said.
"So how will I know my prey?"
"I'll mark them. So be good and follow. It's for your own good. Get strong each time until you're ready to face the second fragment."
"Okay."
In the silence that followed, Marcus stared down at the city—the city he might soon feed on. His reflection in the window didn't look like him anymore.
But for the first time, he didn't look away.
The red dot blinked softly on the inside of Marcus' vision—an eerie pulse, like a heartbeat trapped behind his retina.
It hovered just above a man's head.
A fellow hunter.
"...You've gotta be kidding me," Marcus whispered.
He was sitting in the corner of the guild lounge, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, body stiff. Across the room, the red-dot man laughed with his squadmates over coffee and war stories. He looked… normal. Kind, even. There was a deep scar running across his jaw, and when he smiled, it tugged awkwardly, like his skin was still remembering the pain.
Marcus wasn't listening to the stories.
He was watching the dot. It wasn't just a notification.
It was a death sentence.
"Fuel," Anomaly had said, just this morning. "These dots? Think of them as your next rations. Designed. Selected. Efficient."
Marcus had tried not to scream.
Now, he felt the words like iron in his bones.
"Why him?" Marcus muttered. "Why not… some monster? Something that deserves it."
"Deserve?" Anomaly had laughed in his mind. "If we only ate what deserved to be eaten, we'd starve before Phase Three. Survival doesn't run on morality, Marcus. It runs on design."
"Hey." A voice broke his thoughts.
It was her—Cera, one of the rookie hunters from orientation. Her orange hair was tied in a messy bun, and she carried two drinks. "You looked like you're melting into the wall. Thought I'd give you some iced matcha before you explode from introversion."
Marcus blinked. "...Thanks."
She smiled, placed one cup next to him, and leaned back.
He tried to smile.
The dot pulsed again. It wasn't on her.
Thank god.
"You always look like someone's chasing you," she teased.
He almost said: They are. And I think I might be the monster they're running from.
Instead, he muttered, "Just tired. Bad sleep."
Cera nodded, pulled out her phone, and scrolled. Her presence grounded him for a moment. A small tether back to reality, back to humanity.
"The man across from you, the one with the scar," Anomaly's voice slithered into his mind like a needle. "His name is Jin Hyuk. Former soloist. Recently returned from a failed S-Class gate. Reports say he lost his entire team and walked out alone."
Marcus's jaw clenched.
"He carries a rare regenerative trait, hidden under an unregistered skill—illegally acquired. His file has value. Consume him, and you'll gain both regen and adaptive muscle fiber control."
"I'm not doing this," Marcus whispered under his breath.
"He's already a ghost. No one trusts him. They all think he betrayed his team. Look at their eyes when they talk to him—pity or suspicion. No one will miss him."
"I'm not doing this," he repeated louder.
"Then I will."
That voice wasn't Anomaly.
It was Fang.
Marcus flinched.
In the seat next to him, invisible to everyone but him, Fang stretched his legs onto the table and stared with a grin too wide to be legal.
"You want to be soft?" Fang said, tapping his temple. "That's fine. But don't forget your little system's got a stomach now and it's hungry."
"Stay out of this," Marcus growled.
Fang leaned closer, eyes gleaming like knives in candlelight. "Can't. Not when I'm the mouth."
Marcus stood abruptly. "I need air."
Cera glanced up, concerned. "You okay?"
"I just—restroom."
He walked past Jin Hyuk. The red dot flared like a flare gun. For a second, Jin Hyuk met his gaze. And smiled.
It felt like guilt being burned onto his skin.
Outside the guild building, Marcus leaned against a wall and looked up at the sky.
"I'm not going to be your weapon," he said into the wind. "Not like this."
"Then die," Anomaly said calmly. "But know this: every refusal comes with a price. The Devourer system is not a passive evolution, Marcus. It needs fuel. Without it, the body collapses under its own weight."
Marcus said nothing.
"You think there's a choice in this? The gods already carved you out to be erased. I gave you power so they couldn't."
"You gave me a cage," Marcus spat.
"I gave you a throne. You're just scared to sit on it."
Fang appeared beside him again, flipping a coin between his fingers. "You wanna starve yourself on principle? Go ahead. But next time that red dot shows up on someone who won't smile at you over coffee, don't cry when your limbs stop responding mid-fight."
"Why me?" Marcus said softly. "Why not anyone else?"
Fang tilted his head. "Because you're already dead, Marcus. The moment you were created by the Divine Father and made you someone like now, your path headed in this way already. Anomaly just guiding you to what true purpose you were made for."
He laughed.
Marcus didn't.
Inside, the red dot kept pulsing. Faint. Persistent.
The first of many.