Isla couldn't understand—just what was he talking about?
Wasn't he already monstrous enough, being so strong and dangerous despite having evolved less than three hours ago?
"Well, since I'm a little short on time, let's just end this game quickly,"
Kevin (????) said, the same wide grin stretched across his face.
This time, Isla did not attempt to negotiate, threaten, or plead for survival. She simply closed her eyes in response, having accepted her fate.
"To die by the hands of my own creation—how fitting an end for a scientist of my status," she mocked herself.
"I will make it painless for you."
Kevin raised his hand, preparing to strike a single, fatal blow.
But before his hand could reach its target, he suddenly tilted his body backward—away from Isla.
A bullet passed through the space where Kevin's head had been just moments ago.
But this was not the end.
One after another, bullets tore through the storm, each aimed precisely at the spot where his skull should have been.
Kevin moved like a phantom, every motion a calculated evasion—his body twisting, bending, shifting with inhuman precision. The rain illuminated his dance of survival, droplets catching brief flashes of blood-red eyes beneath the darkened sky.
Yet even perfection had limits.
A bullet clipped the edge of his ear. The wound vanished in an instant, but the act itself—the mere fact that someone had grazed him—was enough to make Kevin pause.
Unknowingly, he had moved eight steps away from Isla.
Slowly, deliberately, Kevin raised his gaze through the sheets of rain, his grin fading into something more thoughtful. The storm raged, violent and merciless, but even its fury could not obscure the figure walking toward him.
The man's silver hair shimmered like molten steel, catching brief flashes of lightning. His shirt clung to his frame, each muscle beneath it carved with sharp precision, tattoos telling stories of victories written in flesh. He held his weapon with the certainty of a warrior who did not miss—who had never missed.
But it was his blood-red eyes—cold, unreadable—that forced even Kevin to reconsider.
They weren't merely looking.
They were judging.
Kevin let out a soft chuckle, as if amused.
"Interesting," he murmured, his voice subdued.
Then, after considering something, he spoke in a detached tone.
"You're late, so you cannot participate in my game."
He moved toward Isla once again, but after only two steps, he stopped—because the man before him had stepped in front of Isla. His speed was far greater than Kevin's.
"Don't you know? Heroes always arrive at the end," the white-haired man said, flashing a toothy grin.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze settling on Isla.
"I know you've created a very useful weapon for us, but that doesn't justify resting in the middle of the desert," he said, his tone a strange blend of amusement and reprimand.
"Your Highness!" Isla's eyes welled with tears as she whispered the words internally.
She had finally done it—she had survived this disaster.
Her master was here.
She was safe now.
Her breath trembled as she spoke. "My apologies, Your Highness, for failing to show proper respect before your esteemed self," she said, a soft smile on her face, letting her tears fall ceaselessly, mixing with the rain.
"WOW! So heart-touching."
Kevin's voice was laced with mockery, but his eyes gleamed with something darker.
"But you see, I'm not going to let new players enter this game."
"I don't have much time to waste, you see," Kevin (????) said, the amusement in his voice fading into something far more serious.
Solren Ragnar exhaled slowly, a knowing smile playing at his lips.
"Well, it looks like I have a lot of work to do to make my new tool obedient," he mused, his words carrying the weight of an undeniable authority.
Kevin moved straight toward Solren, his movements sharp, unrelenting, determined to crush the obstacle before him.
He threw a punch directly at his face, fast enough to tear through solid steel.
Solren simply raised his hand.
Bang!
The sound of impact reverberated through the air, forcing even raindrops to scatter from the sheer pressure generated between them.
Kevin's eyes widened ever so slightly. His fist—trapped in Solren's grip, unmoving.
"Is this all you've got?" Solren's voice tore through the sound of collision.
His hand caught Kevin's fist in an unyielding grip, his calm expression betraying the slightest hint of amusement.
His words did little to disguise the fact that his legs had been pushed two steps back.
Kevin did not answer.
Instead, he attacked.
His fist shot toward Solren's jaw, the punch carrying enough force to split boulders.
Solren didn't dodge.
He caught Kevin's wrist mid-strike—his grip vice-like, crushing flesh against bone.
A sickening snap echoed. Kevin snarled; his grin did not falter. His forearm hung limp for less than a heartbeat before his flesh convulsed, bones realigning instantly.
Regeneration.
Solren's gaze flickered, assessing. He wasn't surprised.
Kevin wrenched his arm free and pivoted, his leg snapping upward in a brutal kick aimed at Solren's temple.
Solren leaned back just enough to let the strike graze past his cheek, the sheer air pressure sharp enough to slice his skin.
For a fraction of a second, Kevin smirked—until Solren retaliated.
A devastating palm strike thundered into Kevin's chest. The impact sent shockwaves through the drenched sand, forcing water outward in violent spirals.
Kevin's body launched backward, crashing into a sand dune behind him.
The force shattered the dune, sending a tidal wave of sand cascading down like an avalanche.
Yet Kevin emerged, laughing. His bones had snapped, his ribs crushed—but they keep recovering.
"You hit hard," he admitted, dragging himself free from the collapsing dune, wiping the blood from his lips—though the wound was already gone.
"But let's see how long you can keep me entertained."
He vanished.
Solren's pupils narrowed.
A heartbeat later, Kevin materialized behind him, his claws slicing downward like jagged blades.
Solren sidestepped, catching Kevin's wrist and twisting it behind his back. In one fluid motion, he drove Kevin down—forcing his skull into the soaked sand with enough force to send shockwaves rippling beneath the surface.
Kevin's body convulsed—twisting unnaturally.
His limbs bent, his spine snapping in defiance as he forced his body to contort upward despite Solren's hold.
A grin tore across Kevin's face as he lashed out—his fingers driving toward Solren's throat.
But Solren anticipated it.
His knee shot forward, driving deep into Kevin's gut. The force folded Kevin in half before launching him skyward.
Solren didn't stop there.
With a single motion, he jumped into the air, catching Kevin mid-flight. His arms locked around Kevin's torso.
Boom!
A violent descent—Kevin's body slammed into the soaked desert floor, the impact sending tremors across the battlefield. Sand erupted in plumes, swallowing everything beneath its suffocating embrace.
This time, Kevin didn't rise immediately. He couldn't.
Solren stood over him, gaze unreadable, storm-lit eyes piercing through the chaos.
"You're fast. You regenerate. But eventually, you still break like anything else."
Kevin coughed, blood spilling across his lips—but already, his bones realigned, his strength returning.
Solren exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "You aren't going anywhere, My Weapon Slave."
Kevin's grin returned, sharper than ever.
"We'll see about that."
Kevin moved like a shadow, his dark green eyes gleaming with relentless thunder. He had tried brute force, speed, and regeneration—none had been enough to bypass Solren.
The silver-haired warrior stood unyielding, a storm within the storm, his presence suffocating the battlefield itself.
But Kevin(????). He was cunning.
Solren's stance remained composed, unwavering—but he sensed the shift in Kevin's approach.
Something had changed.
Kevin's lips curled into a grin—not of amusement, but of cold calculation. His muscles tensed, and his fingers flexed. He rushed forward, fists swinging, aiming for Solren's head.
Solren blocked.
A deafening crack split the air. The force sent waves through the soaked sand, blasting apart dunes with each strike.
Kevin twisted, dropping low, sweeping his leg toward Solren's ankles.
Solren leapt, flipping mid-air, landing with effortless grace.
Kevin's hand shot out, claws gleaming—only for Solren to parry, twisting Kevin's wrist at an unnatural angle before throwing him backward.
Kevin barely skidded to a stop before lunging again. Attack after attack. And yet—none landed.
Solren was always ahead.
But Kevin wasn't aiming for Solren anymore.
It happened in an instant.
A flicker. A feint. A deception.
Kevin swung high—forcing Solren to engage—then abruptly twisted his entire body, contorting mid-motion.
He wasn't attacking Solren.
He moved past him.
Straight toward Isla, who was trying to slip away from their range by struggling on a single leg.
Solren's eyes widened—just a fraction. A delay. One fraction of a second too late.
Kevin's clawed hand was already slicing forward—aimed directly at Isla's throat.
She had no time to react. No time to scream.
Solren moved.
His body blurred, his hand snapping out—but he knew—he knew he wouldn't reach her in time.
Kevin's fingers grazed Isla's skin—
A heartbeat. A breath. Then—
BOOM!
A shockwave exploded from beneath Solren's legs through the battlefield.
Suddenly, his speed increased exponentially.
Solren's hand caught Kevin's wrist at the very last second—the sheer force of their collision shaking the very ground beneath them.
But Kevin had anticipated it.
His other claw speared forward—aimed straight at Isla's chest.