Unholy Player - Chapter 507

Chapter 507: Hidden Intentions, Quiet Madness
Henry already knew Adyr had advanced to Rank 4 from the report he’d received earlier. From that alone, he could infer which Spark Adyr had used for his evolution.

Even so, there was nothing to celebrate. The rank-up should have been good news, but Adyr’s new appearance came with problems Henry had no choice but to face.

Adyr only laughed at Henry’s panic and theatrics. “You’re afraid Zephan will see me like this?” he asked, walking over and dropping into the empty chair like the situation didn’t concern him.

“How can I not, after the story you told me?” Henry shot back. Adyr’s calm only made the pressure in his chest worsen, like he didn’t understand the danger at all.

“What story?” Rhys asked, lifting an eyebrow as he studied Adyr’s new appearance. “Why do you smell like you bathed in blood?” He sniffed the air, catching the sweat stink coming off him, mixed with the alcohol scent clinging to his own breath and clothes.

Rhys didn’t know what kind of evolution Adyr had gone through. For that reason, he didn’t realize this new look would cause trouble if the Lunari—still in the city at the training area—saw Adyr and understood what it meant.

And Henry clearly hadn’t told him. He hadn’t told anyone what happened in the Lunari kingdom or how Adyr deceived them. It was too heavy a secret to share—Adyr had killed their ancestors and taken their blood to use for his evolution to Rank 4.

“Well,” Adyr said, still not looking worried, as if his mind had already moved on to something else.

Rhys’s lack of reaction to the scent struck him as strange. He didn’t comment on it, though. He just watched him for a beat, then laid out the full story the same way he’d told Henry, leaving nothing out.

By the time he finished, Rhys burst out laughing. The sound was sharp and unbothered. “As expected of our young master—full of scams, with the perfect face for our human race.”

He didn’t look offended on the Lunari’s behalf. If anything, he looked amused, as if it were just another trick worth admiring.

“Rhys, have you lost your mind too?” Henry snapped, his nerves tightening at the unrestrained laugh. “Do you even understand what kind of trouble we’re in?”

“Yeah. I understand.” Rhys’s laughter faded as he pulled a small bottle from his uniform pocket and cracked it open. A heavy alcoholic smell—matching the one on his breath—spilled out and filled the room.

He took a sip, then looked at Henry. “We’re already standing on countless Umbraen ashes. What difference does it make if we add a few Lunari on top of that?” His gaze slid toward Adyr. “Besides, he seems to know what he’s doing.”

Adyr smiled, like the matter was settled. “Yeah. Leave them to me. There won’t be any problems with them.” His voice stayed steady, almost casual. “You focus on their training. Make sure they build their strength through the VR rooms.”

Then he moved on without a second thought regarding the current matter. “Also, I found some slaves I want trained. Teach them basic farming and give them discipline in one week.” He said it like he was assigning routine work.

“Slaves?” Henry echoed. He was still reeling from the previous topic, so his thoughts lagged for a beat—and when the word finally landed, it hit hard.

Seeing Henry finally register the word, his expression hardening, Adyr continued before he could object. “Just a few people I found worthy and left alive in the radiation zones on Earth. I want you to take them and give them some education in fieldwork.” The explanation was practical, delivered straight to the point.

It wasn’t the first time Adyr had brought up the idea of slaves. But he’d never used the word so openly. This time, the implication carried more weight, like there was no space left to pretend otherwise.

Henry’s expression tightened further, and Adyr noticed it right away, cutting in before he had time to form an argument.

“Don’t get righteous now,” Adyr said. “Haven’t you used criminals for brutal labor in prisons before? It’s the same concept.” His gaze stayed on Henry, steady and unyielding. “Everyone I found is a criminal from terrorist organizations. If it helps, call it convict labor instead of slaves—like you used to.”

Henry wanted to express that convict labor was not the same as slavery. The argument stuck in his throat. In the end, he accepted it without further resistance. “Tell me the coordinates. I’ll send a unit to bring them to Shelter City 9.” He sounded more worn down than convinced.

After getting the coordinates, he keyed them into his wristwatch along with a few short instructions and sent everything off to the appropriate people.

The device flashed briefly to confirm the message; the whole matter was settled in seconds without Henry ever needing to leave his seat.

Rhys took another sip from his small flask. “And just like that, all the problems we had on Earth for decades ended, huh?”

Before they discovered the Beyond, their biggest problem had been the first-generation mutants living outside the 12 Shelter Cities. They were scattered across the wastelands, difficult to track and harder to erase.

There were organizations that threatened anyone who went out. There were criminals who blocked trade routes and looted vehicles. And occasionally there were people who attacked the Shelter Cities directly and caused massive damage. No matter how many patrols were sent, they were never fully wiped out.

Now only a handful of those problematic people remained after Adyr’s massacre. Those survivors were being brought back to Shelter City 9 to become prisoners. Or rather, slaves. That was how a long-running problem finally ended—slammed shut in the ugliest way possible.

The result was bloody, unethical, and questionable. Still, they had to accept it. Someone had to play the bad guy to finish it, and Adyr took that role willingly, without a hint of shame.

“I also found a few Sparks—mostly Rank 1 and a few Rank 3,” Adyr added. “Make sure you send people who actually have the capacity to transport them.”

Lately, Sparks had been emerging on Earth more and more. It was happening especially in the radiation zones, where survival twisted people into monsters.

People more dangerous than Cannibal had started to appear. Unfortunately, none of them were as dangerous as Adyr. He ended them in his hands before their futures could take shape, snuffing them out before they could grow into something worse.

Henry frowned at the new information, momentarily forgetting the previous issue altogether. “Did you find the reason those Sparks are emerging on Earth?” It was still a question their researchers couldn’t answer, no matter how many reports they compiled.

Adyr nodded. “Some of them were kind enough to confess that a man gave them their Sparks.”

Henry and Rhys didn’t need to ask anything else. A name formed in both their minds, the same one that had recently hovered around their biggest problems.

Mad Scientist. He was the man who led them to discover the Beyond in the first place. And now he was bringing Sparks from Beyond to Earth. That meant there was a reason behind it, and it didn’t feel random.

“I’ll discuss this matter with the 12 city managers and tell you the results,” Henry said. He knew this wasn’t something to be handled through a casual chat, especially not with an alcoholic and a lunatic.

Adyr nodded again. He could guess, more or less, what Mad Scientist was trying to accomplish. Still, he couldn’t pin down the details—how or why. Another perspective would help him reach his own conclusion faster and with fewer blind spots.

The conversation slipped into a brief pause as Adyr’s attention drifted to Rhys’s flask, which he kept sipping from out of habit, never seeming to feel the burn.

“That booze seems a little strong,” Adyr said with a laugh, his voice lighter than it had been.

The smell of alcohol in the room mixed almost evenly with the iron tang coming from his body, and the strange balance between the two only made him more curious about what that drink actually was.

Rhys grinned and held out the flask. “Yeah, it’s quite good. Want a sip?” he offered, like he was sharing something harmless.

Adyr didn’t refuse. He took the metal flask, sniffed it first, then took a small sip, tasting it carefully instead of gulping it down.

He rolled the drink across his tongue, one eyebrow lifting at the aftertaste. “Potato-based fermented spirit,” he said, “but there’s something in it I can’t place.” He handed the flask back, still weighing the flavor.

Rhys took it with a satisfied look. “You know your drinks.” He took another sip, then added, “I mixed it with the mutation serum the researchers gave me.”

Henry stared at him. “You did what?” Disbelief tightened his face. He looked at Rhys like he’d lost it.

Adyr’s expression shifted slightly as well. Rhys’s casual mixing of a Synergy Crystal–based mutation serum with alcohol and drinking it was a kind of madness even for him, reckless and difficult to comprehend.