MY DEVOURER SYSTEM

003. The Public Account

The Vanguard Academy deployment hangar was chaotic, filled with the hum of hovering medical transports and the murmurs of hundreds of returned cadets.

At the center of the briefing platform stood Dean Halvern.

He had already changed into a fresh, unspiled uniform. Surrounded by an audience of lower-year cadets and a stern-faced logistics instructor, Dean was gesturing wildly, painting himself as the tragic hero of the Iron Gate Rift.

"The Abyssal Stalker was a Tier-3 Variant," Dean announced, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hangar. "I did everything I could to secure the perimeter. But the structural integrity of the blast doors was failing. I had to make the executive command decision to seal the chamber to save the entire platoon. Cadet Kestrel’s sacrifice... will not be forgotten."

"A noble lie, Cadet Halvern," a cold, smooth voice cut through his performance.

The crowd parted. Isolde Revenhall walked into the light, her silver armor gleaming. Beside her, walking with a steady, unbothered stride that didn't look like a victim's, was Ren Kestrel.

Dean’s grand gesture froze in mid-air. His face drained of color, his jaw dropping slightly as his eyes locked onto Ren. He’s alive? How is he alive?

"Lady Isolde," the logistics instructor said, quickly bowing his head. "You recovered the body?"

"No, Instructor," Isolde said, her violet eyes cutting toward Dean like twin daggers. "Cadet Kestrel recovered himself. It seems Cadet Halvern’s 'executive decision' was entirely premature. Not only did Kestrel survive the cave-in, but the Stalker was already dead when my squad breached the doors."

A wave of shocked whispers rippled through the gathered cadets.

"Dead?" Dean stuttered, his panic turning into defensive arrogance as he tried to save face in front of his peers. "That’s impossible! A Zero couldn't survive ten seconds with a Stalker, let alone kill it. He must have hidden like a rat while the beast succumbed to the lightning wounds I inflicted on it!"

Ren stood silent, but beneath his skin, his biology was reacting.

[Passive Skill Active: Chitinous Perception (Tier 1)]

[Scanning target: Dean Halvern]

[Biometric reading: Heart rate 142 BPM. High adrenaline. Neural pathways firing in a predictable, high-voltage pattern. Storm Crest energy accumulating in the lower right forearm.]

To Ren's new senses, Dean wasn't an intimidating elite anymore. He was a transparent map of muscles, nerves, and elementary flaws. Ren could literally feel the crackle of Dean’s lightning before it even manifested.

"You're right, Cadet Halvern," Ren said aloud, his tone completely submissive, though his eyes remained fixed on Dean's right wrist. "I am just a Zero. I only survived because your 'mighty' lightning attacks completely missed the core and instead caused a localized cave-in that crushed the beast's skull. You just... forgot to check your work before you ran away."

"You little trash—!" Dean’s pride shattered.

Publicly accused of cowardice and incompetence in front of the instructor and the lower years, Dean lost his temper. His right hand instinctively whipped forward, a violent spark of blue Tier-4 lightning leaping from his fingertips toward Ren’s chest. It was a strike meant to hospitalize.

The crowd gasped. The instructor lunged to stop it, but he was too slow.

Ren didn't even blink. Thanks to Chitinous Perception, he had anticipated the strike two seconds before Dean even twitched his fingers.

With a movement so minimal it looked accidental, Ren shifted his weight precisely two inches to the left. The bolt of lightning missed his shoulder by a hair, striking the metallic deployment console behind him with a loud CRACK and sending a shower of sparks into the air.

Before Dean could pull his hand back, Ren stumbled forward—seemingly tripping over his own boots in fear—and slammed his shoulder hard into Dean’s extended right arm.

Snap.

Ren’s newly reinforced, parasite-woven muscles hit Dean's forearm with the density of solid iron. The impact fractured Dean's wrist instantly.

"Ahhhh!" Dean shrieked, collapsing to his knees on the platform, cradling his broken arm as his lightning fizzled out into nothing.

"Oh, my apologies, Cadet Officer Halvern!" Ren gasped, backing away with wide, innocent eyes, hands raised defensively. "I tripped! I didn't mean to get in the way of your stance!"

The hangar went dead silent. The cadets looked from Dean, writhing on the floor, back to Ren. Nobody had seen Ren strike. It looked like Dean had simply thrown a tantrum, missed a stationary target, and broken his own arm by awkwardly colliding with a clumsy Zero.

The public humiliation was absolute. The "face-slap" was complete.

"Enough!" the instructor roared, stepping between them. "Halvern, medical bay, now! Your conduct is disgraceful. Kestrel... go to the logistics desk to claim your survival credits."

As the crowd dispersed, whispering furiously about the incident, Ren turned to leave. But a slender, armored hand caught his uninjured shoulder.

Isolde stood close, the scent of ozone and expensive perfume washing over him. Her violet eyes were gleaming with an algorithmic intensity.

"Nice performance," she whispered, her voice too low for the instructor to hear. "You dodged a Tier-4 lightning strike by positioning yourself in his blind spot before he even cast it. And that 'clumsy' impact had the structural density of a modified combat cyborg."

Ren kept his expression flat. "I don't know what you mean, Lady Isolde."

"Save it, Ren," she murmured, a sharp, calculating smile gracing her lips. "My father, the Grand Duke of Revenhall, is currently looking for an asset that doesn't exist on any military registry. A shadow that can eliminate our political rivals within the rifts without leaving a trace of human energy behind. You are going to be that shadow."

She leaned in closer, her grip tightening just enough to remind him of her gravity power.

"Play your part well, and I will personally provide you with all the high-tier monster corpses your 'appetite' requires. Try to run, and I will have the High Council dissect you to see what’s living inside your chest. Do we have a deal, Zero?"