Wonderful Insane World-Chapter 90: Feral Quiet

The tension rose a notch.

They repositioned themselves around the creature, each instinctively adjusting their angle. The circle was closing in, but the monster didn’t seem concerned. It turned slowly, its clawed paws pressing the earth without a sound, its bladed tail swaying behind it like a constant threat.

Maggie stepped forward.

She raised her axe but didn’t strike. She feinted, pivoted, pretended to launch a side attack. The feline leapt aside, anticipating... and walked right into the trap.

Dylan emerged from the opposite flank.

He was already mid-sprint. His machete carved a low arc, aiming to take out the hind legs. But this time, the creature didn’t just dodge — it jumped straight up, a sudden burst of agility surprising for its size. Dylan slashed at empty air, missing by a hair.

"Shit!" he cursed, rolling aside just in time to avoid the tail that snapped toward him like a whip.

But Élisa had already anticipated the move.

She leapt from an elevated slab, and just as the beast landed, she drove both daggers into its flank, held on for a second, then slid down its side to land behind it.

The creature growled, turning to strike her — but Maggie was already there.

This time, she wasn’t striking to wound. She was striking to break.

Her axe slammed into the back of the front left leg with all the force her body could produce. A sharp crack followed — the bone gave partially under the blow, and the beast staggered to the side.

This was it.

Dylan rose, legs aching, but his instincts razor-sharp.

He charged in without thinking.

The blade in his hands vibrated with a will not entirely his own. His vision narrowed on the open wound — on the weakness.

And this time, he struck to kill.

Dylan brought the blade down with all the rage and tension burning in his arms.

The chipped machete plunged into already torn flesh, deepening the wound, biting deeper than he’d expected. He felt the resistance — tough hide, sinew coiled like dried leather — but his blow didn’t falter. It followed through.

A gush of black blood burst forth, thick, viscous, accompanied by a strangled rasp.

The beast let out a hoarse, guttural cry that stirred the fog around them.

Dylan didn’t stop. He yanked the blade free and struck again, just beside the first cut, extending the gash all the way to the hip. The creature staggered, its body shuddering from the impact, the broken limb barely able to hold it up.

It tried to rise, but its movements were erratic. Survival instinct clashed with blood loss, pain, and the relentless precision of the attacks. Every step was a fall waiting to happen.

Maggie seized the moment. She lunged from the side and jammed the shaft of her axe into the creature’s open jaws, stopping it from biting down on Dylan. Then, spinning on her heel, she kicked the beast hard, shoving it toward Élisa.

"Now!" she shouted.

Élisa didn’t hesitate. She dove forward, sliding under the creature’s belly, and in one fluid motion, drove a dagger deep between its ribs, right under the heart.

The body tensed.

A massive breath escaped its lungs — a final, wrenching exhale from somewhere deep inside. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Then it collapsed. Hard. Fast.

Dylan stepped back, panting, his arms trembling. The beast’s blood dripped from his blade, his jacket, his hands.

He stopped, arms hanging at his sides, breath shallow, eyes locked on the carcass sprawled before him. And despite the exhaustion, despite the tension still coiling through his muscles... a rictus crept slowly across his lips.

Not a smile. A twitch — almost involuntary. Dark. Terrifying. Pure satisfaction.

He had enjoyed it. He knew it. He wouldn’t say it out loud — but he knew.

Unlike him, Maggie showed no emotion. She approached the corpse like someone inspecting a finished task. Her brown eyes stayed cold, detached, as if this were just another routine.

"I think that’s enough for today," she said simply. "Dylan, this anima gem is yours."

He blinked, slightly stunned. As pleased as he was to hear it, he hadn’t expected her to hand it over so easily.

"But... commander, I already got one this morning," he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

Maggie smiled. A real smile — not mocking, but almost amused.

She clenched her fist, knelt down, and struck the monster’s skull with a sharp slap.

A hollow thud rang out — like a dented gourd.

"You have no idea how much the essence of an awakened beast changed me," she said calmly, almost distractedly, her eyes fixed on the gaping wound in the creature’s neck.

Dylan stayed quiet.

He hadn’t given it much thought. He vaguely remembered that it was Maggie who had absorbed the gem from that second-rank awakened beast... but he hadn’t realized how much it had affected her. Or strengthened her.

Now that she’d said it, he couldn’t help but look at her differently.

She didn’t sound like someone who had gained power.

She sounded like someone who had been sharpened.

And that was far more unnerving.

"I don’t know what to think right now," Dylan thought, arms still limp at his sides. "Uh... should I congratulate her? On being better at killing me? Yeah... I’ll pass."

He just shook his head in silence, meeting Maggie’s weighty — almost satisfied — gaze with nothing at all.

That should have been enough.

But Dylan, blessed with the survival instinct of a kicked dog, opened his mouth anyway.

"Well... since we’re all warmed up, why not hunt another awakened beast?" he said, half-joking, half-desperate. "Maybe even a higher rank one. We’re clearly in top form."

He was hoping for a scoff. A sarcastic remark. A "shut up, Dylan." Anything to signal the joke had landed.

But Maggie nodded. Seriously.

"That’s not a bad idea," she said, rising and wiping the blood off her axe with one sleeve. "Not right away. But soon. We’ll have to face them eventually."

Dylan stared at her.

His stomach turned over.

He’d always known his jokes could backfire.

Just... not this fast.