Chapter 14: A Werewolf? Who Isn’t

Boom!

The wall of the cabin shattered.

The impact from the shotgun blasted the werewolf, its life or death uncertain, out of the cabin.

As a devastating weapon in close combat, a shotgun's destructive power is no joke.

Forget wood, at such close range, even metal sheets wouldn't stand a chance.

Rhode's eyes were cold, radiating a murderous aura.

He reloaded the shotgun and walked out through the hole in the wall.

At this distance, having been hit four times by a shotgun, there was no way even a werewolf could survive.

Though the chances were high that the werewolf was already dead, Rhode was a cautious man.

If he was going to kill, he would ensure there was no chance of survival.

He wouldn't be at ease until he had sacrificed even the corpse.

Until he was 100% certain the werewolf was dead, it was considered alive in his book.

Outside the cabin.

The werewolf, covered in blood, lay motionless on the ground.

Rhode slowly approached the werewolf, and his eyes suddenly narrowed.

Werewolves, while powerful, were still flesh and bone at their core.

Aside from enhanced physical strength and regeneration, they weren't that different from humans.

They could still be injured by bullets, and severe enough wounds would kill them.

He had already killed two werewolves before.

When those werewolves were hit by the shotgun, their bodies had been blown apart.

But this werewolf before him didn't show the same kind of devastating wounds.

Countless steel pellets were buried deep in its flesh, but they had only severely injured it.

It wasn't a fatal injury.

Swish!

The werewolf, which had appeared unconscious with its eyes closed, suddenly opened them wide.

In the next moment, the creature began transforming further into its beastly form.

As the transformation progressed, the blood-soaked body started healing rapidly.

One by one, the steel pellets fell out of its flesh, clattering to the ground.

In a matter of moments, new fur had grown on the werewolf's body.

Its human limbs began morphing into those of a wild beast.

Hiss!

Rhode couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath.

Don't mess with me—this is supposed to be a werewolf?

He'd never heard of a werewolf with skin this thick.

It could withstand shotgun blasts? Just how terrifying was this thing's muscle structure?

"Are you trying to become invincible or what?"

Without hesitation, Rhode raised the shotgun again, aiming it at the werewolf's head, and fired two more rounds.

Like villains dying from talking too much, Rhode never understood why in movies, the protagonist wouldn't just finish off the villain when they had the upper hand.

Why did they always engage in unnecessary banter, only to have the villain power up and kill half the team, before the hero, in a fit of rage, finally defeated the enemy?

It was like they had too many teammates and wanted to sacrifice some to make the villain happy.

Learning from that lesson: strike when the enemy is down, and finish them off.

A dead enemy is a good enemy.

After firing two more shots, Rhode didn't even bother reloading the shotgun.

He pulled out his revolver and unloaded all six rounds into the werewolf's eye sockets.

At that moment, the werewolf, howling in pain, completed its final transformation.

The previous werewolf form was gone, replaced by a massive, over three-meter-tall gray wolf.

This giant wolf's right eye was a bloody mess, half of its face blown apart by the shotgun.

The remaining left eye glared at Rhode with a savage, brutal intensity.

The good news? The beast was crippled.

The bad news? Being crippled didn't seem to hinder its combat abilities much.

In fact, the giant wolf seemed to grow even more frenzied.

"Tough one," Rhode sighed.

Even after a point-blank shotgun blast to the face, this creature was still alive—he couldn't be blamed for not hitting hard enough.

Too bad he didn't have grenades.

Otherwise, he could have shoved a couple of high-explosives down its throat, and not even an iron stomach could survive that.

Next time, he would definitely make sure to get his hands on a few crates of grenades.

As his thoughts concluded, the enraged giant wolf charged at him, its sharp teeth and claws cutting through the air with a fierce wind.

Rhode quickly dodged.

Behind him, a massive tree, wide enough for two people to wrap their arms around, was torn to pieces by the wolf's claw.

Strength, speed, power, defense, regeneration—this thing's stats were maxed out across the board.

Watching the giant wolf's wounds slowly heal, Rhode couldn't help but feel a headache coming on.

Fighting werewolves was like this: either you killed them in one hit, leaving no chance for recovery, or you'd be worn down to death.

If he were just a normal human, all he could do now would be to wait for death.

But unfortunately for the wolf...

"You're a werewolf, but you think I'm not?"

Rhode's eyes gleamed viciously as he clenched his teeth.

In his mind, he imagined a full moon rising.

In an instant, a wild, bloodthirsty beast-like instinct surged from his blood straight to his brain.

Howl!

A low, suppressed growl echoed like a king's decree, reverberating far and wide.

The entire forest fell into complete silence. Even the sounds of birds and insects disappeared.

Boom!

The giant wolf charging at him was suddenly thrown back by an immense force, crashing through several large trees in its path.

Thud!

Amidst the swirling dust, a nearly three-meter-tall figure slowly emerged.

Covered in gray fur, the werewolf's body was muscular and imposing, like it had been forged from iron.

The creature's fur gleamed, tough as steel, while its narrow beast-like eyes glowed red with bloodlust.

Sharp fangs, deadly claws.

Though most of its body retained its human shape, it radiated an aura of raw animalistic power.

Rhode took out the silver cross necklace from his personal space, wrapping it around his right hand.

Since he was fighting a werewolf, it made sense to use the weapon most effective against them.

Sizzle!

Where the cross touched his hand, it made a hissing sound, like water on hot iron.

Rhode flexed his body, utterly indifferent to the burning pain in his hand.

His werewolf bloodline was special, vastly different from that of ordinary werewolves.

Normal silver items didn't affect him at all.

Even this holy silver, blessed with divine power, only caused him mild discomfort.

But that was it.

No matter how powerful the holy silver was, it couldn't cause him any real harm.

But for an ordinary werewolf? It was a whole different story.

Even regular silver could be deadly, let alone holy silver blessed with divine power.

His gaze turned to the fully transformed, mindless werewolf in front of him.

A blood-red aura began to rise around Rhode's body.

Rage!

His gray fur was tinged with a layer of blood-red.

Already at the peak of his strength, he grew even more powerful.

Rhode grinned, revealing sharp, bloodthirsty fangs.

"Take a guess—how many minutes do you think it'll take me to kill you?"