The surrounding zoomed past, almost a blur. Well, the train was actually running underground, so there was not much surrounding to speak off.

Tired, he was too much to even put into words. But there was no way he could fall asleep. Every single brain cell of his was screaming at him. How he was held up until now, he did not know.

What was he thinking, what the fuck had he done? He… he just killed three living, breathing human beings. And to top it all off, he even torched the place in fire for everyone to see. What was he thinking, or rather, he was not at all; he just did what his ancestor told him to do.

And no, he did not ask why—by now he had this much trust. Once he’d cleared the area, which wasn’t difficult since the construction site was nearly deserted at night, he immediately sought to clean himself up—both physically and metaphorically. He succeeded with the former, but when it came to cleansing his conscience, well, that was another story.

He was also in new clothing, which he bought after getting out of the area with his clothes wet. He abandoned his shirt on the way and showed up to a local roadside vendor for a cheap shirt. And as for where he was going now, it was easy to guess.

As in this day and age, the train was hardly used. It connected some important points in the city for the poor. but the population of poor was not exactly little, even in this metropolis. Alexander still remembered his father took the train the first two years after buying this apartment of theirs. He was 4 or 5 then, but he still remembered that detail.

As usual, the train was packed. Though his soaked pants and fresh shirt made him stand out, it didn’t matter much. The passengers came in all types, but the most important thing was that they were too busy, too drained, or too tired to even notice him.

Luckily Alexander found a seat, most were left standing. Many would still have a long distance to travel once they got off the train. such was the life if your salary was not over a certain thrash hole.

Fortunately for him, he didn’t have far to walk. His destination was one of the main stops on the rail line: the border wall

Yes, he was heading to the border wall, and just like before, he planned to hire an agent to help him find a group for the journey outside. This time, though, the trip would be a long one—or maybe his final destination, he thought with a chuckle.

Though the train was for the poor, it did not mean it was slow. Well, not that much. After some time, Alexander reached the station, and he had to admit he was surprised. The station was kind of filled, and all with scavengers.

Some were bloodied and battered, dragging their exhausted body’s home. Others, eager for a new hunt, eyed potential loot and money.

That reminded Alexander he needed to buy some equipment. It took him just 5 minutes of normal walking to emerge from the train station to the bazaar that was selling things.

For fear of being caught by the authorities, Alexander did not wait much and quickly finished his shopping. As for what he bought: three things. A durable axe, like last time but this time far more expensive, a tent, a light, another spare half-sword, and his last and final purchase: one cell vial.

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Then, just like last time, he managed a broker to find him a team that would sneak him through the wall. Fortunately for Alexander, this time the team had a connection with the guards, and that meant Alexander did not have to get into a box this time.

The group this time seemed a bit more professional—or perhaps "larger" was the better word—or maybe it just felt that way because he didn’t know anyone. All he knew was that no one bothered to strike up a conversation, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to. Not in his current state. It took everything he had not to collapse under the weight on his shoulders—or give in to the urge for an unrestrained, brutal slaughter to stop the voices in his mind.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the last station—at least, as far as these kinds of tracks went into the wilderness. They got off, one by one. Whether they spoke or not, he couldn’t remember—or maybe he just didn’t care. All his attention was on his swinging axe, crashing down on the komodo dragon-like creature, as its blood splattered around and on him.

As the warm blood splattered across his face and a surge of killing energy filled his body, Alexander felt a fleeting sense of relief. It distracted him from the war raging in his mind.

But that relief was short-lived; the sensation vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by the dread and weight of what he had done. He whipped his head around, desperate to find something—anything—to end. He just didn’t want to feel this way; he didn’t want to think at all..

Suddenly, he spotted something. It moved quickly—he didn’t know what it was, nor did he care. it moved, It was alive, and he could kill it. that was enough for him. He lunged forward, ignoring anything in his path as he desperately sought the euphoric release of swinging his axe.

The branches in his way were utterly destroyed, either crashing into him or falling victim to the arc of his massive axe as it came down.

The axe slammed down, kicking up dust, but Alexander knew it hadn’t connected. Just as the blade was about to strike, the creature sped away.

Alexander whipped his head around, senses heightened. Not that he needed much help in that department; his instincts had been on high alert for hours now, and his expression was one of complete madness.

Rustle.

Alexander ducked at the sound of rustling behind him, just in time to see a seven-foot shadow leap over him.

It landed not far away, its four paws scraping against the dry leaves below, producing a cacophony of noise .

Just like the night surrounding it, a creature resembling a panther crouched on all fours, its body adorned with darker patterns reminiscent of a jaguar. It neither growled nor attacked; it simply fixed its gaze on Alexander—only Alexander.

Alexander stared back, not with fear but with annoyance at having missed his first blow. What did it matter if it was a panther or a cat? All that mattered was that it was a living creature he could kill. He could fight it and distract himself from his thoughts. That was enough.

Disregarding all sense of normality, Alexander initiated the attack as he charged forward. The panther appeared momentarily taken aback, stepping back to evade his first wide swing. But before it could leap onto him, Alexander harnessed the momentum of his axe and executed a 360-degree spin, which, of course, it did not connect.

Alexander came to a staggering halt a moment later, breathless and disoriented. Just as he tried to comprehend what was happening, a massive paw crashed into his chest, the force of the blow sending him hurtling backward. He slammed into three trees in rapid succession, the impact reverberating through his body and splintering parts of the first two trunks as he broke through them.

The moment he came to a stop, blood erupted from his mouth, nose, and ears. Alexander felt as if his torso was either missing or vibrating incessantly, the air knocked out of him. He struggled to breathe while simultaneously vomiting blood.

It was a visceral feeling of dread, yet Alexander welcomed it, as it drowned out the chaos swirling in his mind. This was precisely the kind of fight he had been searching for.

The creature’s muscles coiled tightly, its body tensing in preparation for another attack. Alexander felt the shift in the air around him and instinctively ducked, rolling to the side just as the panther closed the distance with explosive speed. It swiped its massive paw toward the tree trunk behind him with a ferocious intent.

In that split second, the weight of guilt faded away, replaced by a surge of adrenaline that sharpened his focus. His weary mind snapped back to the present as he spotted a fleeting opening in the panther’s defenses. With a determined grunt, he swung his axe upward, aiming for its vulnerable side.

The blade connected with surprising ease, slicing through the creature's skin like butter and leaving a vivid red streak against its sleek black coat. The entire sequence unfolded in the blink of an eye, a chaotic dance of violence and instinct. As the creature’s powerful strike shattered the tree trunk behind him, splinters flew in all directions, and Alexander felt the tremors of impact reverberate through the ground.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it; his axe landed with a satisfying thud, and the panther reacted instinctively, its body tensing as it leaped back several meters, graceful yet powerful, like a cat evading a threat.

If nothing else, this creature was a marvel of explosive agility and raw power. And as Alexander steadied himself, he was certain of one thing: no matter how swift or fierce its attacks, its defenses were surprisingly weak.