Unfortunately, what he saw was completely different from what he had imagined. In the vast, uncultivated farmland, the once all-powerful monster now looked utterly miserable. Its eight massive limbs had been forcibly torn off by Henry Clark, leaving only one trembling leg barely supporting its body, but it was useless against such a huge frame...

Lying on the cold, muddy ground, Lydia Bennett gasped violently. Meanwhile, Henry Clark stood easily before her, holding his sword in one hand, not a speck of dust on him—the outcome was already clear.

“All right, your case is closed. Remember, in your next life, don’t be a monster again. Being one of your local comfort women isn’t bad—though it’s a bit tough, there’s no real danger, you won’t have to worry about food or drink, and you can work lying down...” With both hands lightly pinching the end of the sword hilt, Henry Clark suspended the peachwood sword above Lydia Bennett’s forehead.

“Hahahahahaha!!!!!!” Suddenly, the dying monster burst into wild laughter, the sound so hideous and terrifying.

“Stop wailing like a ghost. It’s late, if you’re not sleeping, others still need to sleep.” Henry Clark showed not a shred of mercy toward the monster beneath him.

“Kill me, but don’t think that killing me means it’s all over... The ‘Night Parade of a Hundred Demons’ has only just begun. As long as you keep being a demon hunter, just wait for your death!!!!”

Lydia Bennett’s words made Henry Clark’s face darken. The calm expression he had was gone, leaving only a deathly pale face. His cold pupils fixed on Lydia Bennett’s unrestrained laughter—this was the first time in their fight that Lydia Bennett truly felt deep fear toward Henry Clark.

“You’ll never understand—sometimes, living is more painful than dying...”

He gently released the two fingers pinching the sword hilt. The black peachwood sword fell straight down, piercing the poor monster’s head as easily as stabbing into tofu.

Is this the end, or a new beginning?

Chapter 12: The Punishment of Kindness

The wind swept across the tranquil earth, the grass swaying and rustling softly, the air filled with the scent of wildflowers, untouched by any artificial trace, refreshing and pure.

Henry Clark stood upon this land, facing the dead monster, without any complex or unnecessary emotions. For Henry Clark, it was just another job done. But unlike previous jobs, his instincts told him this matter was not as simple as it seemed.

He casually pulled the ancient peachwood sword from Lydia Bennett’s head. As the black-red blood spurted out, a strange change occurred.

The dead giant spider suddenly emitted a gentle white light, disappearing with the wind like fireflies. Even the blood clinging to Henry Clark’s sword glowed white and faded away. Occasionally, blue orbs of light would fly out from the glowing corpse—some continued to drift away on the wind, destination unknown, while others sank into the earth like falling leaves, returning to the roots...

Watching this scene, Grace Miller unconsciously stepped out of the factory, strolling to Henry Clark’s side. She said nothing, simply watching the glowing dots dance around them, as if it were a fireworks show meant for just the two of them.

When she saw those blue orbs, Grace Miller felt a strange sense of familiarity.

“What are those?” Though she didn’t want to break the moment’s peace, Grace Miller was truly curious.

“The people it ate...” Henry Clark’s answer was clear, needing no repetition.

“People?” Grace Miller grew a little frightened again.

“People or souls eaten by monsters can’t reincarnate—they’re trapped inside the monster’s body. The souls’ longing, desires, and obsessions become the monster’s power. The more high-quality souls a monster gathers, the higher its level, and the harder it is to deal with...” Watching the souls drift past, a trace of hidden sorrow flashed in Henry Clark’s eyes. “But only by killing the monster can the trapped souls do what they want and gain freedom.”

“Did you join the Paranormal Division to save these poor people?” Grace Miller was imagining the birth of a hero.

“Their lives and deaths have nothing to do with me. I’m not as noble as you think...” Henry Clark didn’t care for meaningless fame. “Two reasons. First, when I was locked up in the mental hospital, Boss Bennett said if I joined, he could get me out. The other reason...”

Just then, the sound of sirens grew from distant to near, shattering the peace of the wilderness.

“You called the ‘cops’?!” Annoyed, Henry Clark glanced at his partner, using slang for “public servant.”

“Because... because I was worried about your safety, so...” Avoiding Henry Clark’s questioning gaze, Grace Miller reacted like a schoolchild who hadn’t done her homework and was facing the teacher.

“Come on, have some common sense, will you? Why call them? We’re police ourselves, aren’t we... Besides, even if I was in danger, could they help? What, are they all going to spit at the monster together or something...” Henry Clark’s voice trembled a bit as he turned helplessly back toward the factory.

Watching Henry Clark’s back, Grace Miller felt guilty for the first time, and obediently hurried after him.