Chapter Twenty-One: The Butcher’s Blade

The strange and sudden seizure of control left its rigid mind momentarily paralyzed; unable to process what was happening, it had no choice but to wait for thirty minutes. Finally, after gauging the distance of the group of espers, it flattened itself against the ground, swiftly sliding between the ebb and flow of footsteps toward its target.

No matter what unexpected turns might arise, it was essential for it to make contact with the target in person—this was the very reason for its journey.

The mass of green, algae-like flesh slithered forward, yet the busy crowd paid it no heed at first. That is, until a balding, middle-aged man, his steps unsteady, accidentally trod upon the specter. The slippery sensation beneath his foot sent him sprawling, and the stack of documents he was carrying scattered across the ground. Infuriated and humiliated, he shouted, “Who left their trash all over the floor?!”

Instinctively, the specter turned to look. Its crimson eyes startled the man so badly he shuddered, scrambled to his feet, and fled in terror.

“A monster—a monster, aaah!”

In an instant, the crowd erupted into chaos. More and more people noticed the flesh-and-blood specter, shrieking as they abandoned the plaza and left it fully exposed under the lights.

What a ghastly creature it was—its entire body devoid of skin, semi-transparent, bluish-green muscles glistening like slug slime, yet stretched taut over a glasslike, four-legged skeleton, crawling limply along the ground.

Atop this g