Chapter 31: The Mega Golem’s Maiden Battle — Part 1

The bald man, Hasea, was seething with irritation.

It had already been more than three minutes since he’d sent out his two subordinates. By all rights, they should have been back by now.

“Oi! What the hell are they doing out there?!” he barked, voice rough with anger. “All they had to do was snatch some helpless brat—so why the hell is it taking this long?”

“Y-yeah, you’re right, boss… maybe it’s takin’ longer ‘cause it’s dark inside? Maybe they’re havin’ trouble findin’ the kid…” one of his men offered weakly.

“Che—this ain’t no rat hunt!” Hasea spat on the ground. “The place is tiny! Even a halfwit could find a single person in ten damn seconds!”

They were gangsters—men who operated in the heart of the city’s underworld.

Among them, Hasea, despite being only in his thirties, had clawed his way into the upper ranks. The younger members both admired and feared him; his name alone carried weight in the alleys and dens where law meant nothing.

But just days ago, Hasea had committed what could only be called the biggest blunder of his career—one that had earned him his boss’s furious disapproval. Now, his position teetered on the edge of demotion.

(The Boss had been after that woman for a long time. I went through all that trouble to set everything up just right, and then that damned merchant ruined it all…)

Hasea’s lips twisted into a grimace.

To have been humiliated by that Popit merchant—a tiny, strange-looking creature from another race—was an insult his pride would never forgive.

(That bastard’s not walking away alive. I’ll make him regret crossing me, make him beg for death before I send him there myself…!)

It was for that reason he’d targeted this house tonight—to kidnap the boy who was said to be close to that merchant.

He didn’t know, of course, that the boy himself was the very cause of the fiasco that had nearly cost him everything.

“B-boss! They’re back!” one of the men stammered suddenly.

Hasea’s attention snapped back to the present. Indeed, footsteps were echoing hurriedly from the front entrance.

The door swung open, and the two subordinates stumbled inside, panting and pale-faced.

“S-sorry, boss!”

“We— we failed!”

“What?”

Hasea’s eyes narrowed sharply. His brow furrowed into a scowl of disbelief.

“What the hell do you mean you failed? You two can’t even handle one damn kid?”

“Th-that’s the thing, boss! There was this—this creature—looked like a cat—!”

“A cat?”

“N-not just any cat! It was fast—too fast! And its claws, its teeth—like knives! It—”

Before the man could finish, Hasea’s blade flashed.

A single, fluid motion—so fast it was nearly invisible. The tip of the blade passed right in front of their noses, close enough for them to feel the whisper of air it split.

“I’ll hear your excuses later,” he growled. “You three—go. Bring the brat back. Now.”

“Y-yes, sir!!”

Five more men rushed into the house at once.

Moments later, the silence shattered with screams, the sound of clashing metal, and shouts of confusion.

Hasea’s head turned sharply. The sounds weren’t coming from inside the house—they were coming from the garden.

“…What the hell’s going on out there?”

Even Hasea could tell something was wrong.

No matter how clever the kid was, five seasoned gangsters shouldn’t be having this much trouble with him.

“I’m going,” he snarled. “You lot, follow me.”

Drawing his sword again, Hasea led the remaining men around the side of the house.

It was a modest, ordinary home—just the kind of place a family of commoners might live.

He didn’t enter through the door but moved along the wall toward the source of the commotion.

The sounds of battle grew louder until they emerged into a yard nearly half the size of the house itself.

“Hey! What the hell are you idiots doing?! How long does it take to catch one damn kid?!”

Hasea stepped into the garden, his shout cutting through the din.

And then—something leapt at him.

His instincts flared; before his mind even caught up, his sword was already moving.

ZAN!

The thing split cleanly in two and crumbled to the ground.

Not flesh—earth.

It was a mass of compacted soil.

“…A golem? What the—why’s there a golem here?”

There wasn’t just one.

More of them lurked in the shadows, massive earthen figures locked in combat with his subordinates.

And beyond them, standing at the far end of the garden, was a boy—the very target of the night’s mission.

“Pathetic. Getting held up by these lumps of dirt…” Hasea muttered.

He lunged forward and, with one brutal swing, shattered another golem to pieces.

But when he cleaved the third one apart, he froze.

Right before his eyes, another golem began forming from the soil, rising from the ground like a living thing.

“Boss! These things—no matter how many we smash—they keep coming back!” one of his men shouted, panic edging his voice.

“Tch! Quit whining and keep fighting!”

Hasea slashed through another, and another. His swordsmanship was a blur of violence—so fast that, for a time, he outpaced the rate at which new golems appeared.

Gradually, their numbers began to dwindle.

Through the chaos, his gaze locked on the boy standing at the back of the garden.

“Hey, brat,” Hasea growled. “This your doing? You’ve sure got some nerve makin’ me work this hard.”

He cut down the last golem standing between them and strode forward through the torn-up garden.

The boy turned—and ran.

For an instant, Hasea thought it was pointless; there was nowhere left to go. But then he noticed—

The garden stretched further than it should have, unnaturally wide, as though someone had torn down the neighboring house and added its land to this one.

“…Tch! I told you not to make this harder than it needs to be!”

He gave chase.

But just as he was closing the distance—the world went dark.

For a moment, he thought a cloud had drifted over the moon.

Then—impact. Something solid slammed into him, hard enough to make him stumble.

“Wh—what the hell—?”

It was like running straight into a pillar. He staggered back, shaking his head, and looked up—

And froze.

“…Huh?”

The sound escaped him, small and strangled.

Because towering before him, half-shrouded in shadow, stood a giant—at least five meters tall.

And it wasn’t alone.

He stumbled backward, only for his back to crash into another solid mass. He spun around—

Another giant.

He turned to his right—

Another.

Left—

Another.

They were everywhere.

“H-heh… You’re kidding… right…?”

The laugh that slipped from his throat was dry, empty, desperate.

Then, as the towering silhouettes loomed closer, Hasea’s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground, sitting there amidst the moonless dark— surrounded by monsters born of earth and nightmare.