Primordial Awakening: They Targeted My Daughter, I Became The Butcher!

"You mean, the Butcher has been spotted at another C-rank dungeon?"

Joy’s voice rose several degrees.

The person on the other side of the call sounded equally stunned.

"Yes."

Joy froze.

"What?"

"It was one of the complicated dungeons that the government has been having trouble dealing with. Witnesses confirmed that the Butcher and the Monarch of Death have just entered the dungeon."

Silence.

Joy’s expression gradually stiffened.

The surrounding hunters overheard part of the conversation, and their expressions immediately changed.

They were already at another dungeon?

How was that possible?

The man from the Human Alliance, who had just entered the car, suddenly paused, and a faint frown appeared on his face.

His enhanced hearing had naturally picked up the conversation.

The phone continued.

"The dungeon hasn’t been cleared yet, but witnesses confirmed that the Butcher and the Monarch of Death entered approximately five minutes ago."

Joy frowned.

Five minutes ago?

That was impossible.

The dungeon behind her had only just collapsed.

Unless...

Her expression suddenly changed.

"Are you sure?"

"Completely."

The caller sounded equally confused.

"There were dozens of witnesses."

Silence fell.

Joy slowly turned toward the destroyed dungeon gate.

Then toward the road where the Butcher should have emerged.

Except he never had.

He had simply disappeared.

"Send me the location."

The caller immediately sent it.

A moment later, Joy stared at the address on her phone.

The corner of her eye twitched.

It wasn’t nearby.

It wasn’t even remotely nearby.

The location was on the opposite side of Cold Moon District.

Even if someone drove at maximum speed, it would take a considerable amount of time to get there.

Yet according to eyewitness reports, the Butcher had appeared there only minutes ago.

How?

The Human Alliance hunter finally stepped out of the vehicle again.

His expression had become noticeably more serious.

"What happened?"

Joy hesitated briefly before handing him her phone.

The man read the report.

Then read it again.

His brows gradually furrowed.

A long silence followed.

The surrounding hunters watched nervously.

Finally, he spoke.

"Interesting."

Joy looked toward him.

"You figured something out?"

The man remained silent for several moments.

Then he shook his head.

"No."

"But I know one thing."

His gaze shifted toward the collapsed dungeon.

"The Butcher is hiding far more than we initially believed."

...

Meanwhile.

Several dozen kilometers away.

Amon and Moon stepped into another dungeon.

The surroundings immediately changed.

The air became damp.

Ancient trees towered toward the sky.

Their enormous roots spread across the earth like giant serpents.

The entire forest radiated a strange pressure.

Amon calmly observed everything.

This was already the sixth dungeon they had entered today.

His leveling speed had exceeded his expectations.

More importantly, Moon had successfully broken into C-rank.

That alone made today’s efforts worthwhile.

Without wasting time, Amon activated Danger Sense.

The familiar sensation spread through his mind.

Moments later, a rough layout of the dungeon appeared within his perception.

Monster concentrations.

Danger zones.

Mana fluctuations.

And the dungeon boss.

A faint smile appeared beneath the Butcher’s Mask.

Convenient.

"Go."

Moon immediately vanished.

Amon remained where he stood.

Boom!

A distant explosion echoed through the forest.

Then another.

And another.

The sounds continued spreading throughout the dungeon.

Amon slowly walked forward.

Completely unhurried.

This dungeon wasn’t particularly threatening.

In fact, after facing a B-rank Dungeon Lord, ordinary C-rank dungeons felt almost trivial.

The monsters they encountered along the way were quickly eliminated.

Moon moved like a machine.

No hesitation.

No fear.

No exhaustion.

Only execution.

Hours passed.

The dungeon was eventually cleared.

A dungeon core appeared.

The familiar notifications rang out.

Amon casually collected the rewards before placing a hand on Moon’s shoulder.

Space folded.

The two disappeared.

Moments later, the dungeon collapsed.

...

Back in Cold Moon District.

The situation was gradually becoming strange.

Very strange.

Reports continued arriving.

One after another.

Every report contained the same name.

The Butcher.

At first, nobody paid much attention.

Then the frequency increased.

One dungeon.

Two dungeons.

Three dungeons.

Four dungeons.

Five dungeons.

Six dungeons.

The number continued rising.

Inside district headquarters, several officials stared at the growing pile of reports.

The atmosphere was becoming increasingly complicated.

"This doesn’t make sense."

One officer finally broke the silence.

Nobody disagreed.

Because it truly didn’t make sense.

A dungeon would collapse.

Then a sighting would emerge elsewhere.

Then another dungeon would collapse.

Then another sighting.

The timing was becoming increasingly absurd.

One elderly official slowly rubbed his forehead.

"Are we certain it’s the same individual?"

The room fell silent.

That question had already come up multiple times.

A few people even suspected there were several Butchers.

Others believed a hidden organization existed behind him.

After all, teleporting across an entire district repeatedly sounded ridiculous.

Yet every witness description matched perfectly.

The mask.

The leather jacket.

The Monarch of Death.

The same pair.

Every single time.

The Human Alliance hunter quietly read through the reports.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Unlike the others, he wasn’t focused on the number of dungeons.

He was focused on something else.

Time.

The timestamps.

The more he looked at them, the more uncomfortable he became.

Because one conclusion kept appearing.

The Butcher wasn’t traveling normally.

No vehicle could achieve this.

No movement ability he knew of could achieve this.

Unless...

A faint glimmer appeared in his eyes.

A spatial ability.

A genuine spatial ability.

His breathing unconsciously slowed.

If that was true...

The implications were enormous.

Far beyond anything the district officials currently understood.

...

The sun gradually descended.

The golden sky slowly darkened.

Evening arrived.

Yet Amon had no intention of stopping.

Another dungeon.

Then another.

Then another.

The process repeated endlessly.

Enter.

Clear.

Leave.

Collapse.

Again and again.

His levels continued rising.

Moon’s levels continued rising.

Dungeon cores accumulated within the system.

The resources under his control grew larger with every passing hour.

Eventually, Amon emerged from another collapsed dungeon.

A cool evening breeze brushed against his face.

The sky above had already darkened.

Moon stood silently beside him.

Amon opened the system.

His gaze swept across the updated information.

A faint smile appeared beneath the Butcher’s Mask.

Today’s harvest had exceeded all expectations.

Far exceeded them.

The district’s accumulated dungeons had essentially become his personal hunting ground.

And the best part?

Nobody could stop him.

Nobody could even keep up with him.

Amon closed the system.

His gaze shifted toward the distant city lights.

A cold glint flashed through his eyes.

The day was far from over.

In fact.

The truly important part was only beginning.