47 Human Murderer

As soon as Victor ventured into the heart of the city, his senses were bombarded with a stark contrast in architectural design, a breathtaking departure from the picturesque landscapes of Kluma. Kluma's structures, with their wooden construction, auspicious colors, symmetrical layouts, and a consistent aesthetic that graced every piece of land, seemed like a distant dream. Earth, however, unfolded a different narrative.

The city's skyline was a testament to modernity's embrace, a reflection of an ever-evolving world. Buildings defied convention with their asymmetrical layouts, haphazard allocation of spaces, and a curious amalgamation of materials that bore an uncanny resemblance to discarded relics. Yet, beneath the haphazard facades lay a unique, unconventional beauty. Each building had its own story, a testament to the diversity and creativity that thrived in this urban landscape.

Victor's gaze was drawn to the houses, characterized by their hipped roofs, a nod to rectangular symmetry. But it was the other structures, predominantly establishments and businesses that catered to the bustling crowd, that truly captured his attention. Their rectangular bodies stood as monolithic testaments to progress, their roofs varying from sloped to flat, forming a jagged skyline against the heavens.

The city streets, paved smoothly with asphalt, unfurled like ribbons of dark obsidian beneath Victor's feet. Neon signs adorned buildings, painting the cityscape with vibrant strokes of color, turning the night into a neon-lit spectacle. The symphony of urban sounds enveloped him—the distant rumble of traffic, the melodic hum of chatter, and the occasional blaring of horns—all contributing to the harmonious chaos of the metropolis.

As Victor inhaled the city air, a symphony of scents filled his senses. The tantalizing aroma of street food mingled with the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers in nearby planters. Even amidst the concrete and steel, pockets of nature thrived, adding an unexpected touch of greenery and freshness to the city's sensory tapestry.

"So this is a city on Earth," Victor mused to himself. "Their roads are asphalted, and most buildings are two-story. People are wearing more intricately woven clothing than most of the villagers I saw before. They must have woven these manually."

Victor smiled briefly and continued to follow Luis to his house. On the way, he recalled something from a few days ago.

***

A few days earlier, when Victor had killed the road bandits, he had stumbled upon something peculiar. It was an anomaly that almost shattered his understanding of the [System]. The [Title] that had appeared in the skills section seemed to have significant utility.

In Kluma, killing intent held great importance. Nearly all people, even ordinary humans, possessed high sensitivity to killing intent. The more menacing a person's killing intent, the more threatening they appeared to others. However, on Earth, it seemed entirely ineffective. People couldn't generate real pressure from killing intent, resulting in their senses being dulled, unless they possessed specific skills for it. Victor concluded that the pressure individuals felt was primarily generated by mana, the universal source of power on Earth.

The [System] presented a message: "[Estimated people are 56, of which 21 have lingering faint killing intent. Would you like to use 'Human Murderer'?]"

This raised questions in Victor's mind. What was the true purpose of a [Title]?

"I already know it has some effects," Victor thought, "but for it to appear in the skills section, does that mean I can control its usage at will, just like other skills? For [Human Murderer] to appear in the skills section, it should have been introduced as a skill when I first acquired it. Am I overthinking this?"

Victor sighed and activated [Human Murderer]. As he confronted the road bandits, he found it remarkably easy to eliminate them. There was a key reason behind this: his enemies were weakened. Even though Earth's people couldn't generate a noticeable killing intent, the [System] still recognized it, allowing [Human Murderer] to target those with killing intent as enemies. Victor could inspire fear, effectively weakening the confidence of those who harbored killing intent toward him.

"Now, thinking about it," Victor mused, "I had to manually activate it through my will. But would this contradict the purpose of a [Title]? I still regard [Human Murderer] as a [Title], based on its name. Now, if Earth's people recognize me through [Human Murderer], I could appear menacing to any potential enemies at all times."

[Human Murderer]

[A title that can weaken any enemies for five minutes after activation. Skill's cooldown: 12 hours.]

Victor contemplated the nature of [Human Murderer]. Its short duration and lengthy cooldown made sense considering its usefulness. But, like [Feral Demon], he wondered if he could exploit it indefinitely.

***

As Victor finished reminiscing about [Human Murderer], they arrived at the imposing gates of the Boulder family's estate, which was Luis's residence. Victor gazed blankly at the intricately wrought gates, their once-grand design now obscured by layers of rust and neglect. The ornate patterns, which had once symbolized nobility and affluence, were now mere echoes of their former glory, barely visible beneath the ravages of time.

Turning his attention to the mansion within, Victor's initial excitement swiftly gave way to profound disappointment. Luis's mansion, despite its heritage of Western traditional architecture, stood as a somber testament to years of neglect and decay. It retained the majestic proportions of its aristocratic origins, yet its once-pristine facade had weathered the unforgiving passage of time.

The aged bricks that formed the mansion's walls bore the scars of countless seasons, their once-vibrant color faded to a muted gray. Vines, like silent intruders, had woven their tendrils into the brickwork, clinging tightly as if trying to reclaim their place in the structure's history. The windows, once adorned with intricate wooden frames, now stood as empty sockets, bereft of glass and stripped of their former elegance.

The surrounding landscape mirrored the mansion's forlorn state. Tall grasses, lush with neglect, reached heights that would challenge even the tallest of men, their wild growth obscuring the land's original contours. Only a narrow path, trampled by countless footsteps, offered a semblance of order amidst the unruly wilderness, leading like a lifeline to the grand entrance.

"You're supposed to be a noble, an aristocrat at that. Why is your mansion in such disrepair?"

"Please forgive me, my Lord. I understand this is disappointing. This is the very reason why I fell into despair."

"No, it's better than having no house at all," Victor replied. "But given your aristocratic background, I assume this street is under your governance, despite being within the city?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Victor nodded and surveyed the street but found it lacking.

"It's no wonder you're in such dire straits," he thought. "This street lacks any businesses or establishments for you to earn from. Assuming your family also has no source of income, they must be in debt to cover their daily needs."

"Do you live alone?" Victor inquired.

"Yes, my Lord."

"So no maids as well," Victor noted.

As they entered the estate and approached the dilapidated twin doors of the mansion, the sound of creaking grew louder, echoing through the empty chambers of the once-grand residence. Luis retrieved the keys, his hands trembling slightly with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. As the doors swung open with a reluctant groan, they revealed the desolate interior of the living room.

Inside, a suffocating sense of abandonment hung in the air, like the ghosts of opulent gatherings long past. The living room, though spacious and adorned with remnants of its former splendor, now lay in a state of desolation. The absence of furniture, save for a lone, worn-out couch, accentuated the emptiness of the space.

The couch, once an inviting centerpiece for guests, now bore the scars of years gone by. Its once-plush cushions had lost their resilience, sagging beneath the weight of countless stories and memories. The fabric, faded and frayed, whispered tales of bygone elegance.

Dim light filtered through the dusty windows, casting long, eerie shadows that danced across the barren walls. Cobwebs clung to forgotten corners, and the scent of age permeated the room, a blend of mustiness and solitude.

Without making a fuss, Victor crossed the threshold and gingerly lowered himself onto the timeworn couch. The old springs groaned in protest, as if waking from a deep slumber, as he settled into its embrace. He closed his eyes briefly, allowing the atmosphere of the room to envelop him, the weight of the past pressing down upon his shoulders.

"Luis, there's no need to be so embarrassed," he reassured his companion. "I have no complaints about your house. It's better than having none. However, that doesn't mean we won't improve it. First, let's pay off your debt and rescue this house from its sorry state. A stable base is crucial for any organization."

'This is where I'll start building networks through Luis,' Victor thought.