Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 138 - : THE UNKNOWN GUEST
Greg logged out of the game. He had been a bit aggressive—too aggressive, actually—while playing Apocalypse. He only ever logged out when forced by the system.
After freshening up, he headed straight to the living room to watch a movie or something to take his mind off things. He was still wanted by the world; Kyle had every world leader in the palm of his hand.
Greg wasn't scared, though. But he rarely left the hidden safehouse—not because of fear for himself, but because of the others: Dual Blade, Odin, Shadow, and Gold Goblin. He was nearly unkillable now, but they weren't. They wouldn't survive even the lightest of attacks.
"You finally logged out. I prepared a meal for everyone," Kate said to Greg, having been the last to log out of the game.
"Yeah, thanks for preparing the meal once more," Greg replied, expressing his gratitude.
With the group bundled together, cooking had become a shared responsibility—though only Greg and Kate were actually capable of doing it properly.
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Annabelle? Spoiled by her brother. Her cooking was painfully average. George Will? No comment. His cooking was as pitiful as Aaron's. The two were locked in a rivalry to see who could produce the most abominable dish.
That left Kate to pick up the slack. She had taken on the task of feeding everyone, while Greg, often busy sneaking out to restock supplies, helped whenever he could.
"Greg," Kate muttered under her breath, her voice hesitant, her eyes shifting nervously.
"Yes?" Greg asked, concerned. Kate had become a pillar of support for the team—not just in Apocalypse, but in reality as well. She had taught Annabelle valuable combat techniques, helped the girl feel at ease and at home, and had been a source of comfort for Greg during hard times. He wouldn't say he had fallen for her—but the feelings were there, unspoken and growing.
"I... I would love to..." Kate tried to speak, trying to will the words out of herself. But confessing her feelings was harder than any assassination she'd carried out. Her heart pounded. Her mind screamed. She didn't even fully understand why this felt so daunting.
Steeling herself, she pushed forward. "I have this—"
She stopped again.
But not out of shyness this time.
Her face contorted with discomfort. Something was wrong. The air itself had shifted, thickened, grown heavy. A pressure far beyond what she'd ever felt weighed down on her chest, making it mildly difficult to breathe.
She wasn't the only one who noticed.
Greg had the worst frown between the two of them. That aura, that pressure, that scent—it was unmistakable. He had lived in the demon realm long enough to recognize it instantly. This was the presence of a demon.
But not just any demon.
This one was different. More concentrated. More pure. More intense. Like an undiluted version of the beings he had faced before.
Greg moved swiftly toward the source of the aura, urgency fueling his every step. Kate trailed behind him, and it seemed the others had felt it too—footsteps echoed from the halls as they emerged from their rooms.
Greg descended the staircase quickly, skipping steps with practiced agility. His heart pounded harder the closer he got. Eventually, impatience overtook caution, and he leapt the rest of the way down, landing hard. The aura was so powerful, so raw, Greg feared the worst.
Could it be Kyle?
He wasn't afraid—not anymore. Thanks to Heaven Defier, his stats had reached a level where he believed he could face Kyle head-on.
But that wasn't the problem.
What terrified Greg was the possibility of collateral damage. His sister might survive. The others? Not a chance. They were still just humans, and to Kyle, ending their lives would be as effortless as crushing ants beneath his heel.
He couldn't lose them.
Aaron's jokes, backed up by George Will's chaotic energy—the once-richest man in the world had a bizarre sense of humor that was somehow endearing. The grumpy and stiff Dual Blade, always looking displeased at his own perceived weakness—though, to other players, he was a beast and a legend.
But most of all, Greg worried about Kate.
The assassin he had met in-game, once known only for her cold efficiency and reserved demeanor, had long since melted into someone far more. A charming, kind, and caring woman—one Greg had begun to enjoy having around. One he had started to love.
He moved as fast as he could without damaging the structure of the safehouse, finally arriving at the source of the pressure.
The living room.
And there she sat.
A woman—seated comfortably, confidently, like she owned the place.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Greg demanded, eyes narrowed.
She was breathtakingly beautiful. Even Greg had to admit that much. Her face was flawless. Her figure, immaculate. She wore a sleek, dark dress that clung to her curves, only amplifying her allure. The way she sat, legs crossed, posture regal—it gave off the presence of a CEO who didn't need to speak to command a room.
She didn't answer right away.
Instead, she looked at Greg silently, eyes gliding over him from head to toe—like a woman on a blind date carefully evaluating her match. It wasn't even subtle. She was clearly sizing him up.
Greg noticed but said nothing. His mind was racing. Who was she? How did she possess such pure demonic energy? What was she doing here? Was Kyle involved?
He had no answers. Only suspicions.
Soon, the others filed in—Annabelle, Aaron, George, Kate, and Dual Blade. They all froze the moment they laid eyes on the stranger. The tension in the room spiked. Everyone could feel it.
She was dangerous.
More dangerous than she let on.
The pressure that had filled the air suddenly vanished, as if it had never existed.
Greg grew even more cautious. That kind of control over one's aura was no joke. It told him everything he needed to know—this demon hadn't slipped in by accident.
She wanted to be noticed.
