Unholy Player
Chapter 123: The Cannibal’s True Face

Chapter 123: The Cannibal’s True Face

"Now, now, relax. We were talking just fine. Why are you getting angry all of a sudden?" Adyr leaned back in his chair, calm and composed, his eyes resting on the Cannibal, who was beginning to unravel.

"You came into my home, killed my men, let my food stock escape, and now you’re sitting in front of me with that smug face. I won’t talk to you. I’ll eat you."

The Cannibal shot to his feet, rage distorting his features.

"Well, you could’ve stopped me before I did all that. But you didn’t. Aren’t you just an idiot?" Adyr said with a low chuckle, never shifting from his seat.

That was the final crack.

All the effort the Cannibal had poured into this carefully crafted performance—the ambiance, the wine, the setting—shattered. And now, instead of being addressed as a genius or a mastermind, he was being called a fool.

"I will eat you alive. For days. For months. Piece by piece. I won’t let you die easily."

With a single swing of his arm, he hurled the heavy dining table aside. It smashed against the wall, splintering with a crash that sent dust and fragments scattering across the polished floor. Then he began to advance.

Adyr didn’t even flinch.

Leg still crossed over the other, he remained seated, staring directly into the Cannibal’s eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. And with what power do you plan to do that? The one you got from that Spark?"

The Cannibal stopped in his tracks. His expression twitched.

"Spark?"

"You don’t know the name?" Adyr raised an eyebrow. "It’s what we call the thing that gave you your strength. The metallic skin. The sudden muscle growth. And I’d bet you also need to feed constantly, right? On flesh?"

He paused for a moment, then added with quiet certainty.

"Also explains how you sensed me. I’d guess your Spark reacts to certain kinds of meat. Maybe scent-based. Warned you the moment I stepped inside."

His tone was casual, but each word was precise. A diagnosis, not a guess.

By now, the Spark’s structure was clear to him. Likely parasitic in nature, similar to Null Maggot. It granted the host enhanced strength and that metallic hide, but it came at a cost. The host would need to feed regularly, probably on raw meat. Either the Spark consumed flesh directly from within, or it fed off what the host ingested.

"How do you know that?" Cannibal asked, his voice cracking. Shock bled into fear. His eyes narrowed, uncertain.

"Are you one of them?" He stepped back slightly.

This time, it was Adyr who paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. But he masked it quickly and spoke evenly.

"One of them? Depends on who you mean."

"The Overlords... the real ones. But I don’t know you. I’ve never seen your face. Why would an Overlord come here? What do you want from me?"

The fear in his voice was real now, naked and trembling.

So there were others, entities powerful enough to instill fear in even this mutant. And from the way he spoke, they were connected to Sparks in some way.

"Interesting." Adyr rested his chin on one hand, eyes narrowing in thought.

"Do these Overlords also have Sparks?" He asked, his curiosity genuine.

The Cannibal, now aware of what he’d bonded with, nodded slowly, still shaken, still trying to grasp what this stranger in front of him really was.

But he also realized something.

"So you’re not one of the Overlords," the Cannibal said, his fear beginning to fade as a hint of his old confidence returned. "You must be just a city boy who got lucky and found a Spark. Like me."

He believed his own guess. That sense of superiority slowly crept back into his voice.

Adyr didn’t answer directly. He simply raised a finger.

A faint vibration began to gather at the tip, forming a narrow beam of pulsing light. "Yeah. In a way, you’re right."

The Cannibal’s eyes locked on the glow. A chill crawled through him. "Is that your Spark’s ability?"

"It is," Adyr said calmly, still charging the Sonic Burst.

"It won’t work on me. Don’t waste your effort. Not even an RPG can get through my skin anymore," Cannibal said with smug certainty, assuming it was just another direct attack.

Adyr chuckled. "Then don’t dodge."

Cannibal’s brow furrowed, his eyes fixed on the gathering particles, now vibrating with a growing intensity. He kept his posture firm. He was sure of himself. Whatever this man was charging couldn’t possibly pierce his body.

But the moment Adyr unleashed the fully charged 2-energy burst, a deafening crack echoed through the room.

Instinct kicked in. Cannibal leapt aside.

Not fast enough.

The wave clipped his shoulder, carving through flesh and metal with ease before crashing into the wall behind him. Dust and shattered wood exploded outward, leaving a wide, splintered hole where part of the wall had been.

"You shit," Cannibal growled, stumbling upright as he looked at his arm.

The metal-coated skin was torn and warped, twisted at the edges where the blast had grazed him. If that hit had landed clean, it might not have killed him, but the damage would’ve been brutal.

But Adyr wasn’t done yet. He burned 0.1 energy.

His legs tensed, muscles locking, and in a sudden, explosive motion, he launched himself from the chair. The wooden frame shattered beneath him, splinters flying as it was kicked backward.

He shot forward like a bullet, closing the distance in an instant.

He drove his right fist straight into the Cannibal’s unguarded abdomen.

DONG.

The impact rang out like a stone slamming into steel. The Cannibal’s body folded, then crashed through the far wall and vanished into the night beyond.

"Damn. He was right—his skin really is tough," Adyr muttered, flexing his bruised knuckles.

The skin across his fingers had split open. Bone showed in places, raw and bloodied. It felt like he’d punched a solid steel plate.

He approached the jagged hole in the wall, eyes locking onto the spot where the Cannibal had landed.

Far ahead, the mutant was already stirring, slowly pushing himself off the ground. Clearly, he hadn’t taken much real damage. Just as Adyr expected.

He realized his options for dealing with real harm were limited.

He shrugged off his coat, leaving both his shield and swords behind, then unfurled his wings to their full span. With a single powerful flap, he lifted off the ground and surged forward into the night, closing in fast on his target.

—

Meanwhile, before Adyr had begun his fight with the Cannibal, a military Hummer rumbled through the dead of night. Its reinforced tires crunched over gravel and shattered concrete, the suspension creaking with every uneven dip in the road. Twin beams of harsh white light cut through the darkness ahead, scattering long shadows across the broken terrain.

"Two minutes to target," Derek said from the driver’s seat, his eyes flicking to the blinking red signal pulsing on the GPS monitor.

It was a distress beacon—Adyr’s. Triggered by the transmitter embedded in his uniform.

"Kill the lights. Don’t take it all the way in. We approach on foot, quiet. You know the protocol," Kara said from the passenger seat, her voice calm but focused. She reached down, checking the chamber of her fully automatic rifle before sliding the bolt forward with a soft metallic click.

No one spoke about what the signal might mean. They didn’t need to. If Adyr had sent it, then something had gone wrong. But charging in blind wasn’t the plan. Not with him. First, they’d assess. Then extract, if possible.

Just as Derek reached for the switch, his foot eased off the accelerator.

"Captain. Something up ahead," he said, narrowing his eyes at the faint silhouettes emerging in the high beams.

"Enemies?" one of the team asked, squinting at the figures. As they got closer, it became clear they were human.

Kara noticed them too and gave a quick command. "Stop the vehicle. Prepare to pull back."

The decision wasn’t made out of fear—it was calculated. They knew whatever they were dealing with had already taken out two full STF units. Charging in blind wasn’t an option, and it wasn’t their mission either. They were ready to fall back.

But then something caught their attention.

"Wait," Derek muttered. "They’re... not enemies. I see a kid. Front-right." He eased the Hummer to a stop as the figures came into clearer view. "There’s even a child among them."

Now close enough to see them properly, Kara stared. And for a brief moment, she hesitated.

These weren’t enemies.

And a thought formed in her mind—one she didn’t quite believe yet.

"Are they the kidnapped captives?" Her eyes locked on one figure in particular.

Near the center of the group, limping with crude crutches, was a man missing his right arm and most of his left leg. Dirty, blood-soaked bandages covered the stumps. His face was gaunt, lips cracked from dehydration.

For some reason, he looked so familiar to her.

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