Monster Gacha System: Becoming The Final Boss

In the inner garden of the exquisite mansion, a crimson-haired girl stood over the lifeless corpse of the cloaked mercenary. The entire group of mercenaries was eliminated in approximately three minutes after their first contact with the intruder. It was a massacre of untold proportions.

The breeze gently shifted the strands of her rose-dyed hair. Her pale complexion reflected the silver moonlight that illuminated the entire night sky. Her irises resembled an untouched ruby, gleaming with intrinsic ferocity and grace.

Scarlet-tint of bloodstains smeared across her limbs, dripping from each of her pale and soft fingers. They weren't the branches of a beautiful tree, but thorns protruding and piercing those that dared to confront it.

'The scent of blood...' Hecate had been containing her thirst for blood, shackling it to the depths of her heart. She felt like a starving woman refraining from eating at a buffet. It was terrible for her psyche.

Clenching her bloodied fist, she turned her velvet eyes towards the cavity in the mansion left behind by her strike against the cloaked mercenary. Her gaze narrowed as she remarked with cold grace. "Another one."

"You must be the Patriarch of the Winston Family." Hecate's words resounded throughout the desolate garden as she glanced at the hooded figure beside the old geezer. "And you should be the infamous mercenary."

"Should I be honored for this tag team?" The edges of her carmine lips rose, unveiling a glint of her fangs. She wasn't afraid of her identity as a vampire within humanity's territory. After all, her senior was an Aberrant.

She already moved on from these feelings and accepted herself for what she was. A vampire with an ancient progenitor sealed within her body.

"A vampire, huh?" The Patriarch remarked as his drooping eyes squinted even further. "It seems that SIGIL has gone mad within half a decade. To think that an Aberrant and a blood-sucking monster even dared to join them."

"Will you challenge the one who employed us, old rat?" Hecate walked towards them and questioned. Before the Patriarch could even mount a response, the crimson-haired girl had already continued. "Oh, I forgot."

"You already did... Because of that, everything you built will be annihilated from existence. Your wealth, power, and authority will be purged from the New World. And for what exactly?" She tilted her head with a mocking smile.

The Patriarch gritted his teeth, his fist clenched until blood dripped from his palm. Wrath seethes into his bones, his limbs trembling with pure and adulterated anger. "You have angered me, leech!"

His body transformed, becoming stronger and bigger. The seemingly senile old rat transmuted into a giant and muscular man. Each of his muscles radiated strength, capable of crushing concrete and bending steel with ease.

The Patriarch bore a resemblance to a particular green man or monster from the comics. At any rate, he stood over 5 meters tall. His hand appeared capable of squashing a human into meat paste.

"Impressive. You look like an ugly bull." Hecate nodded at the old geezer who was huffing at her. She could feel the anger emanating from his piercing gaze, but the crimson-haired girl didn't care for the slightest.

Instead, her attention was pointed towards the hooded figure beside him. The infamous mercenary whose identity and capability were unknown. The only information about this adversary was their completion rate. It was a hundred percent.

No wonder they were infamous within the mercenary industries. With such capabilities, the hooded bastard has probably hunted over a thousand targets. The identity of their targets probably didn't matter to them.

'I have to be careful. Otherwise, it would be troublesome if I got ambushed by this mercenary.' Hecate thought while shifting her posture. She turned her attention towards the Patriarch and narrowed her gaze.

An augmented berserker... That was what she considered the old geezer to be. Taking care of them wouldn't be a problem. After all, they were merely a better brute. The problem was that handling him would require her complete focus.

Something that she'd rather avoid with the hooded mercenary standing beside it. With this in mind, Hecate decided to change her strategy. Instead of waiting to be ambushed, it was better to strike the attacker.

Without any hesitation or delay, she shifted her stance and vanished from her spot. The Patriarch widened his eyes while the hooded mercenary adjusted their body. The infamous bastard barely dodged her axe kick, which shattered the paved path of the garden.

"Quite fast- No, it seems that you already expected my attack and moved beforehand." Hecate didn't hesitate and threw a right hook towards the infamous mercenary, utilizing her powerful and bloodstained leg.

Realizing that dodging was a foolish endeavour, the hooded mercenary changed their stance and prepared for the incoming attack. Unfortunately, they underestimated the power behind the crimson-haired girl's legs.

The bastard was blasted towards the greenhouse while Patriarch tried to catch the vampire, intending to squash her beneath his fingers. Sadly for him, she leaped from the grasp of his giant fingers and kicked his head to create distance between them.

By now, fighters would usually focus on their nearby opponent when throwing another one out of the fight. But Hecate wasn't interested in the old geezer. So, she didn't even give a second and bolted towards the broken greenhouse.

Although the Patriarch was fast, he wasn't as quick as the crimson-haired girl who vanished into a blur. His anger amplified as his body grew stronger and better than ever before. Being ignored felt humiliating to the old bastard.

Inside the greenhouse, Hecate glanced at the broken pots of plants and saw that the hooded mercenary had already disappeared. However, she didn't consider the possibility of the infamous bastard escaping. After all, the two of them hadn't even fought seriously.

As a metahuman, the hooded mercenary should be capable of utilizing a Brand. Whatever this was. It should be the cause of his one-hundred percent completion rate.

In mere moments, a sharp object whistled through the air and flung towards her. She adjusted her head, dodging it with ease. But as the piercing object passed through her, it pivoted and tried stabbing her neck.

Hecate held the object and felt resistance from it. It was a weighted dagger, capable of hovering in the air. She wasn't even carrying it with her palm; it felt as though it had no semblance of weight.

The resistance she felt was the dagger seemingly withdrawing itself from her. It reminded her of telekinesis, though it appears that the hooded mercenary's Brand could only control a limited number of objects.

As if confirming her thoughts, several weighted daggers hurtled towards her, each moving much faster than a bullet. Even if she dodged them, they would pivot and strike her from behind. For the first time, the crimson-haired vampire felt a sense of pressure.

'The Brands of humanity truly are troublesome. Some are barely useful while others are problematic.' She thought while dodging the barrage of daggers that seemed to never end.

As though mocking her, the Patriarch charged through the greenhouse, breaking everything along the way. He threw a punch at her, which she barely dodged and hopped away from. Whatever it impacted was pulverized into dust, making her frown.

The greenhouse wasn't the best battlefield for her. It was brimming with blind spots, which she didn't appreciate. Clenching her fist, she punched the old bastard back to the garden and bolted after him.

It wasn't worth it to stay in the greenhouse where the hooded mercenary hid himself. An open area better suited to the crimson-haired girl's capabilities, as she could watch everything without being troubled by blind spots.

The Patriarch felt his chest aching in pain, her body barely resisting the powerful punch of the vampire. He wondered if she augmented her body in some way. Was it her Blood Technique?

Before he could ponder further, his left arm was cleaved from his body as Hecate struck him with a side kick afterward. His head was pummeled to the ground, creating craters with his bulging head. But he immediately countered, wanting to grapple with her.

On the other hand, the weighted daggers followed the garden and launched towards the crimson-haired girl. She dodged once again, flipping through the air and landing over the shoulders of the Patriarch.

"How strong is your head, old rat?" Hecate asked with a manic grin as she pulled his jaw apart with her bloodstained hand. The Patriarch felt dread as he utilized his remaining arm to grab her. Unfortunately, she pulled his jaw apart, splitting his head into two pieces.

Blood spluttered outward, raining over the garden while the hulking body of the old geezer collapsed to the ground with a thud.

She couldn't even relish in her victory as another barrage of weighted daggers thrusted towards her. She dodged them with the same technique as before, but noticed one of them sliced through her cheeks.

Blood dripped from her pale skin and plummeted to the shattered pavement. For the first time, Hecate was injured. Her body froze while the weighted daggers pivoted and attacked her once again.

The crimson-haired girl touched her cheeks and felt them healing at an accelerated pace. She traced her dripping blood and tasted it with her warm tongue. "It has been a long while since I savored my blood."

"But I'm grateful. I almost forgot my Blood Technique. Years had elapsed since the last time I needed it." Her velvet irises gleamed with a scarlet hue. Strands of her crimson hair danced as though it was underwater.

"Blood Technique: Severance."