Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System

Chapter 189: To Hunt Alongside The Hunter

"It'd be better to tell Nikko about this. Leave this to the officers," Finn mumbled.

"That won't be possible," Crow interrupted his thought process.

"Why not?" Finn asked, looking at the hunter with a raised eyebrow.

Crow tapped his hand against the wall, clarifying what he said, "To be honest, I wasn't exactly planning on just sitting around here and waiting for you. The truth is, I can't actually leave. You can't either."

"What're you talking about?" Finn asked further.

Instead of explaining through words, visualization was much quicker and easier it seemed as Crow summoned his cleaver into his hand. With a swipe of the blade that could cut through even titanium, it cut through, though the wall bled a black sludge, quickly mending itself.

"The hell?" Finn mumbled.

"Every part of this building is like this. It seems the interior is completely indestructible," Crow claimed.

"Then the front door–it was open when I came here," Finn said, stepping towards the stairwell.

Crow stopped him immediately with more words, "It's closed. It was closed the entire time. My guess is that it only shows itself open for potential "prey."

"Prey?" Finn questioned.

Despite the situation, the pale-haired man had an enticed smile, "I believe this entire apartment has been turned into the feeding grounds for a rather interesting person. We were ensnared in their web the moment we walked in."

"If that's the case, then I'm shit out of luck. Of all the people to be stuck with," Finn remarked, glancing at the hunter. "Still, I'm curious why we haven't been attacked yet then."

"Doubting me?" Crow asked playfully.

"I should, but I can tell you're speaking the truth…creepily enough," Finn said.

"It's a great thing, being connected–I can see you're creeped out, but I can also see you're not frightened in the slightest considering the situation. I wonder, did your assimilation make you this way or was this always Finn Hawkthorne?" Crow questioned curiously, stepping closer, staring at him as if analyzing a piece of art.

Conversation wasn't something he sought even if he was forced to be with the hunter for the time being. Even if he could confirm whether Crow told the truth or not, it didn't mean he knew the entire situation.

'There's likely things he's neglecting to speak about. I doubt it's to bring me down, but more just because he finds it interesting–that's the kind of person he is,'

Finn thought.

As he surveyed the room, looking for signs of anything that pointed to the unseen killer hiding in the midst, he could feel Crow watching him the entire time.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help out?" Finn finally asked, glancing back.

"Oh? You want my help?" Crow questioned with a smile.

Seeing the clearly amused expression, Finn turned away, "Forget I asked."

"I can sniff them out, y'know," Crow claimed, tapping the tip of his nose. "Like a chef, I've developed a certain sense–I can smell a prize."

"Creepy, but fine–lead the way," Finn accepted, if nothing else, putting a meatshield between him and the unknown killer.

He watched as the snowy-haired hunter began his search, brushing his fingers against the walls, touching the splatter, all with an expression so calm you would've thought he was staring at a tranquil beach.

"This person isn't a mindless beast nor a butcher. No, what they've done here is intentional–a work of art that they want witnessed," Crow claimed, looking towards the strung bodies in the main room of the apartment.

"I'd disagree about them not being a butcher, but go on," Finn said, standing beside the hunter.

Crow glanced at him before turning around, "The sorts of killers that perform like this, starved for attention, craving recognition–that sort of person would be waiting for our reactions, watching it."

"Watching?--" Finn repeated, quickly turning to the side.

It was only when given that realization did he finally feel the gaze on him; it felt as though he was being watched from every angle by hundreds of eyes.

"Don't get too worked up. I didn't mean that our killer is closeby in person–only that they're watching," Crow laughed quietly, bringing his cleaver into his hand. "--They're watching us closely without getting close."

Finn watched as the pale man walked over to the back wall before plunging his cleaver into it, kicking his foot against it at the same time. A squirt of blackened liquid released from the action, spurring a smile from Crow as he brushed the substance from his cheek.

Upon closer inspection, he found that what Crow had cut was not simply the wall, but an eyeball that he hadn't seen previously.

"I really hate being watched from afar–it's an annoying feeling," Crow said as he withdrew his blade from the wall, looking over at the assassin.

"Are you sure it's a person we're dealing with? A trapped building, dead bodies, eyeballs in the walls…It seems more like some kind of nightmarish monster than a human," Finn remarked.

"You're asking me that? I'm sure you know that there's not much of a difference between man and monster when we really try," Crow answered with a smile.

Finn didn't feel like responding to the sly words, instead realizing to himself it was the case. Still, he didn't want to consider just what kind of person would be responsible for the unnatural situation he found himself in.

Finn decided to give a look around for himself, stepping towards the hallway that led back to the stairwell.

"I'd watch your step," Crow warned from behind.

"What're you?—" Finn began to ask as he glanced back.

A squishy sensation beneath his foot brought him to look down, finding that he had stepped on a disc of flesh.

'What's that?'

He questioned.

As it pulsated, he flipped back just as it erupted from the ground. A pillar of blackened flesh rose, quickly molding itself into a familiar, distinct shape. What intercepted the path was a humanoid of tar flesh, covered in eyeballs across its sickening body.

'Is that the killer? No, sleuth isn't even bringing up any information, so it's not a natural monster either–this thing must be a skill or part of the killer's system,'

Finn analyzed.

A quick glance back at how casual Crow was standing at the back of the room confirmed that he likely wouldn't be of any help. That slight smirk was saying "This one is all yours"—a frustrating expression for the assassin.

The black fleshed monstrosity cocked its arm back as it extended, sending it forward like a whip. Finn slid to the side, feeling the air be rent by the vicious limb as it slapped against the floorboards.

The air hissed as the wooden tiles were shattered by the collision. It possessed enough strength when whipping its limbs to cause serious harm.

Not only that, by the way its fleshed was layered and folded, it would be difficult making meaningful cuts with his dagger.

'I'll opt for this one, then

,' he thought.

[

Bloodstained Odachi

]

Replacing the dagger he held was the curved sword that possessed tenfold the reach. He could almost feel the blood of the hunter behind him pump when he called upon the special weapon, as though it drove his heart into a celebration.

The putrid being lunged at him, enlarging both of its arms to swing them as whips. As it approached, he brought the lengthy sword back—

["

Stay tuned to ???

Magnificent Blade

"] [Mana: -600] [3700/4500] [2:59]

In a swift slash before it could strike with its limbs, he brought the blade through its body with an arc of colorful fire and sparks. The elemental strife only chewed away at his enemy, bringing no harm to the room itself.

["

Mortal Mana

"]

[Mana Recovered: +300]

"—" Finn briefly exhaled as he sent the sword away, watching the grotesque creature dissemble into ash.

There was no experience nor ability assimilated, though [Mortal Mana] still presented a recovery of mana for killing it.

'I guess that thing was the minion of the killer. Some kind of system that allows them to create fiends and ensnare people in buildings? What could it be?'

He considered.

Finishing it off, he glanced over as Crow walked past him, kneeling down to brush his fingers over the putrid remains of the creature.

"It's been a long time since I've seen that blade he used to kill something. As beautiful as ever, isn't it?" Crow reminisced.

"I hate using it," Finn admitted with an absent look in his emerald irises. "I can feel all the blood on the hands of the person who wielded it."

"Oh? Then you must be feeling the lives of hundreds," Crow remarked, straightening himself out with a delighted expression. "I was always more picky and deliberate with who I hunted, but Raven…He had no such prejudice in who he hunted."

It was repulsive hearing the man speak about the act of taking lives as though it was nothing more than a game. He chose not to respond, instead taking his leave from the apartment as he entered the stairwell.