Villain: Supreme Parasite System in Another World-Chapter 33: Tactical Predator 2

That creed had never failed him. After all, failure meant death in his previous line of work.

’What’s that sound?’

He began sensing vibrations from the surface. They were not random. They followed a rhythm.

Carefully, he began ascending and climbed out of a manhole, emerging into a narrow alley between two old apartment buildings.

Several cars were parked in loose rows. Some had their hoods open, while others gleamed under the streetlights. The air smelled of gasoline, smoke, and alcohol.

Right away, he noticed a group of people nearby, and he quickly slipped under a parked automobile to hide.

Francis stayed still, watching through a narrow gap.

Some leaned against their vehicles while smoking cigarettes. Others sat on the hoods, laughing and drinking from bottles. Loud music played from one of the van, echoing through the alley.

Modified engines .Lowered suspensions. Fresh paint jobs.

Most of the vehicles looked customized.

’A car meet, huh?’

’So even in a world filled with monsters, hobbies like this still exist.’

Well, it was not that surprising. Humans, especially men, had a strong love for anything they could ride.

’There’s about forty of them.’

But Francis did not move.

He hesitated.

Based on his estimate, this area was close to a Defense Force branch. That was likely why these people felt safe enough to gather here.

In addition, the space was too open, meaning any attack now would only cause commotion and offer little gain.

Just as he was about to go back into the sewer, the sound of an emergency alarm echoed through the area. But instead of panicking, everyone started laughing, already used to this kind of occurrence.

Some even clinked their bottles together.

Francis, on the other hand, shook his head. ’These people have no sense of danger. Might as well teach them.’

He scrapped his first plan, knowing it would be harder to find a cluster of people with the alarm going off. So he would make a splash here instead.

Four men stood near a convertible red car, leaning against it. One of them laughed loudly, holding a bottle loosely in his hand.

"Last night was insane," he said, wiping his mouth. "That girl from the club was wild."

Another snorted. "You didn’t even remember her name, did you?"

"Why would I? It was just a one-night thing." he replied bluntly. "Are you still mad she didn’t go with you? Sorry, man. I just can’t help it. Chicks dig me."

They began laughing, careless and loud, voices bouncing off the narrow walls of the alley. None of them looked worried. The emergency alarm still echoed faintly in the distance, but to them, it was just background noise.

Francis listened from beneath the parked car. Their conversation meant nothing to him. His focus was already elsewhere—figuring out the fastest way to kill all four of them.

The space beneath the car darkened as his body expanded, bones and flesh shifting.

The first man noticed the shadow.

He tilted his head down slightly and knelt to check under his car, even leaning in closer—

Thud.

His body dropped to the ground.

"Hey, bro, stop joking around." One of his friends laughed as he kicked the body lightly.

There was no response.

A nervous laugh slipped out as one of them grabbed the legs anyway, pulling harder.

"Alright, come on, stop messing—" He paused.

The body didn’t move the way it should have.

Something felt wrong.

He leaned in, squinting into the dark under the car.

Then he saw it.

His friend had no head, and blood was pooling where it should have been.

"He’s de..."

Before the words could fully land, something struck him.

His head snapped upward so violently that his neck twisted and slit at an unnatural angle, as if it had its own mouth.

"MONSTER!"

Finally, the others realized the danger they were in—but it was already too late. Francis stepped out of his hiding spot and began the massacre, quickly killing anyone close to him and knocking down those further away.

’One minute.’

While moving through the corpses, he destroyed their abdomens, retrieving what he needed before turning away and retreating.

It was enough of a distraction.

His second target was a laundromat. When the alarm went off, the people inside chose not to evacuate, making it far easier for him to eliminate them.

He destroyed the CCTV cameras in the store first, then moved through corpses and left without delay

From there, he moved to another establishment. His actions were now high-profile enough that he could hear helicopters in the distance, but he did not care. He focused on indoor targets, where detection was lower and response time was slower.

And it worked like a charm. Soon, the area of his attacks expanded to five locations in total. For his sixth target, he chose a nightclub.

It was perfect—dark, crowded with intoxicated people, and most of all, it was underground.

When he entered through the vents, he noticed the music was still playing, and the alarm was barely noticeable inside.

From his position, he saw bouncers at the entrance preventing anyone from leaving, insisting that there was an emergency outside.

Instead of going for the kill, he checked the exits first. He noticed that, aside from the main entrance, the only other exit was small and narrow.

That detail gave him plenty of ideas.

He stayed in the vents, watching.

Below, the nightclub still moved like nothing was wrong. Music thumped through the floor.

Lights pulsed. People laughed too loudly, drank too fast, and danced like there was no tomorrow—ironically, it might really be the case.

Then something changed.

A man near the bar turned toward the exit.

At first, it looked normal. Just someone deciding to leave early.

But when he pushed through the crowd, a bouncer stepped in his way.

"No one leaves yet," the guard said, hand raised.

"What do you mean, no one leaves? There’s an alarm outside. What if the monster comes here?"

"It’s under control. Stay inside."

The man tried again. The bouncer didn’t move.

Voices started to rise.

Another person nearby stopped dancing.

Then another.

A glass slipped from someone’s hand and shattered on the floor.

The first sign of real fear wasn’t the alarm—it was hesitation.

People stopped syncing with the music.

Some looked toward the entrance. Others toward the ceiling. A few reached for their phones but didn’t press anything yet.

Francis watched all of it without blinking.

The room was no longer stable.

It was waiting to collapse.

And when enough people finally decided to move at once—

That was when he dropped.

BANG!

The bouncer’s head came apart— one instant a face, the next a red mist and the wet percussion of bone fragments clattering against the door behind him.

Those nearest him felt it before they understood it — a warm spray across cheekbones, the tiny sting of bone shard against skin — and for one second, nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Then the screaming began.

"RUN!!"

"Move! MOVE!"

"Get away from the door!"

"Don’t push me—don’t push—!"

People collided instantly, drinks spilling as hands grabbed anything nearby for balance. Chairs scraped hard against the floor. Someone fell and got stepped over.

"I can’t breathe—!"

"Get off me!"

"I’m dying! Stop stepping on me!"