People are scared in America, my uncle is Dante

Suren reacted instantly, raising her right hand horizontally with her palm loosely clenched.

Ashes drifted from the rusty steel and wires around him, gathering in his palm.

A heavy, brutal, giant weapon slowly took shape in his hands.

The blade is broad and heavy, covered with rust, and the edge gleams with a cold, sharp light.

The entire blade is straight and upright, and even the handle is made of a single iron plate, without any unnecessary embellishments.

Suren gripped the hilt, feeling its reassuring weight.

He casually swung the blade twice, the heavy blade cleaving through the mist with a whooshing sound.

"It feels good."

Suren smiled and said, "Today I'll cosplay Third Brother too."

"Now I hope you can withstand more cuts, because..."

Suren charged out, dragging his giant blade, the tip of which sparked a series of flashes as it cut through the steel floor.

As he approached Maria, he suddenly sprang to his feet:

"I've made it to stage two too!"

There were no fancy sword techniques whatsoever.

Only the simplest, most violent strike—

A downward slash from mid-air!

The heavy blade, with the force to split mountains and shatter rocks, slammed down from above onto Maria's raised forelimbs, which she was using for defense.

"clang!!"

The sound of metal cracking echoed all around!

Under the overwhelming power of the giant blade, Maria's metal forelimbs were sent flying.

Suren did not stop what he was doing; the giant blade moved with ease in his hands, as if it had no weight at all.

Sweep, upward slash, triple slash...

With a suitable weapon, the top-notch swordsmanship talent inherent in the Spartan bloodline, as well as the muscle memory developed from years of being tortured by Dante, were fully revealed.

In just a few breaths, the iron spider was completely dismembered.

The battle ended faster than expected.

Maria, who had lost her limbs, and the frame lay silently on the ground, her body disintegrating from the legs down into black ashes.

"James..."

Her eyes were vacant as she stared at the gray sky, unconsciously muttering those few words.

A shadow fell over her.

Suren walked up to her with his giant blade, his expression calm, without saying a word.

No matter how tragic the other person's situation is now, a monster is a monster.

He raised the massive blade with both hands, like an executioner knight, ready to plunge it in and give her a quick death.

Suddenly, my hand felt light.

The giant blade made of ash crumbled and scattered into countless ashes.

At the same time, the surrounding steel-paved inner world began to recede as the giant blade disappeared, revealing the clear lake water and wooden boats.

"Alessa?"

Suren called out in his heart, only to feel that the dark energy still existed, but it seemed to have fallen silent and become much weaker.

Perhaps the energy was exhausted after forcibly bringing the Otherworld to the surface and manifesting weapons?

After a moment's thought, and confirming that Aresa was not in any danger, Suren stopped worrying about it.

Let's finish them off first.

In this world, only monsters that are completely dead are good monsters.

……

Lakeside Hotel.

This building, situated on the shores of Lake Toluca, represents warmth and joy in James's memory.

He and Mary once strolled along the lakeside path in the evening breeze, and they also shared passionate kisses in secluded places...

At this moment, James dragged his heavy steps down the dilapidated corridor, his green jacket stained with blood and grime from the battle.

After fighting the monsters in the hotel, he obtained a videotape and the key to room 312.

This is the room where he once lived with his wife, Mary.

At that moment, James stood in front of the door, looking at the familiar wooden door, gripping the brass key tightly in his hand, and hesitated.

He felt a mix of fear and trepidation about the door, a fear of being reminded of past happy memories and experiencing pain again, and a subconscious resistance to the truth.

After a moment, his eyes hardened.

Insert the key into the lock cylinder and turn it.

"Click".

The long-sealed door was slowly pushed open.

On the left is the bed, on the right is the bathroom, and directly opposite the door is a television and a sofa chair with its back to the door.

Looking at the familiar layout of the room, he seemed dazed, his thoughts drifting back to a few years ago.

The originally dark and musty air was dispelled by a ray of warm sunlight, and a faint fragrance filled the air.

His beautiful and charming wife, Mary, was in the room, excitedly looking around, her eyes sparkling, her smile clearer than the sky outside the window.

But it was only for a moment.

My illusions shattered; before me lay the same desolate, lifeless guest room, large patches of wallpaper peeling off the walls, now speckled with age.

James suppressed the bitterness in his heart, walked to the TV cabinet, and tremblingly inserted the videotape into the old-fashioned VCR.

He sat on the sofa chair.

"Sizzle—"

The television was not yet lit, and the screen was like a mirror, reflecting James's pale, tired face.

A moment later, snowflakes flashed by and covered his face.

The screen lit up, and the figure that James had been longing for appeared.

In the video, Mary has her hair tied in a low ponytail and is wearing her favorite pink knit sweater. At that time, she was not yet suffering from illness and had a rosy complexion.

Seeing this, James, who was sitting in the chair, instantly had tears in his eyes.

Mary in the video noticed the camera.

She looked at the photographer with a gentle expression, shyly reaching out her hand to cover her mouth and giggle, "You're taking pictures again? Okay, okay..."

Mary walked lightly to the sofa chair by the balcony and sat down. Looking at the shimmering Lake Toluca outside the window, she sighed deeply, her eyes filled with longing.

"I don't know why, but I just like it here."

"How peaceful."

At this point, Mary looked off the camera, seemingly at James from back then, or perhaps across time and space, looking at him now, and smiled:

"Did you know? I heard this place used to be a sacred site."

"I think I understand why now."

After saying that, she sighed again and looked once more at the lake and mountain scenery outside the balcony.

The once clear television screen began to flicker horizontally, and Mary's image was repeatedly cut off.

Mary stood up from her chair and said helplessly to the camera, "It's a shame we have to leave."

She looked at James, a pleading look in her eyes: "Promise me you'll bring me next time, okay?"

"Cough, cough..."

The television went dark, accompanied by a cough.

When the television screen lit up again, the style changed abruptly.

The sunny hotel rooms have disappeared, replaced by a dark and oppressive room.

The footage was extremely blurry and full of noise, as if it were taken secretly in a dark corner with a fixed camera.

The camera is vaguely visible pointing at a headboard.

A person lay on the bed, a woman with a withered face and hair like dry straw.

The background noise was no longer Mary's gentle words, but rather suffocating and heavy breathing.

The screen flashed.

A pair of hands appeared strangely in the frame, clutching a pillow.

The clothes on those arms were dark green, and they looked very similar to what James is wearing now.

Upon seeing this, James was stunned, as if struck by lightning.

He seemed to know what was about to happen; he covered his head with his hands, ran his fingers through his hair, and dared not watch TV anymore.

"No...no!!"

But this did not stop the video from continuing to play.

Those hands holding the pillow,

Slowly approach the head of the bed,

Get close to women,

Just as the pillow was about to cover the woman's face,

The man paused for a moment.

The next second, the pillow slammed down!

"Ugh—"

The woman, whose face was covered by a pillow, began to struggle violently, her withered hands helplessly patting and scratching at her clothes.

But it didn't work.

Those arms remained motionless, pressing firmly against the pillow.

Until the struggles on the hospital bed weakened and finally gave way to deathly silence.

The TV screen started flickering wildly.

The image of the brutal murder flashed back and forth with Mary's gentle smile in front of the camera earlier.

Beautiful promises overlapped with cold corpses.

"Sizzle—"

The image disappeared, and the television once again became a black mirror.

James's pupils trembled in the mirror, his eyes were heavily rimmed, his chin was covered with fine stubble, and he looked devastated.