Just as Shane shifted his body as if to launch himself at the temporary A-rank monstrosity, a weight latched onto his leg.

  “W-wait!” Dr. Spencer yelled from the mud, his hands locking around Shane’s ankle with the frantic desperation of a drowning man.

  Henry lunged from behind, his hands seizing Shane’s shoulders and hauling him back.

  Shit, he was strong.

  Perhaps it was because of his potential to become an S-rank, Henry seemed to be less affected by the White Wing’s aura.

  “You need to calm down!”

  “Do you have a death wish?!” Dr. Spencer added.

  He wasn’t a bodyguard, he was a lunatic!

  Celestial-class monsters had a bad reputation for a reason. The last time an angel—ranked up as an SS-rank archangel—appeared with a breach, it basically gave the whole world a collective case of PTSD. They weren't something you could just charge head-on.

  Shane didn’t struggle against their grip.

  These two were stronger than him, there was no point. It would only show that his strength stat is much lower than what they probably expected.

  Anyway, he wasn’t actually going to charge the White Wing head-on. He wasn’t that stupid.

  But just as the two were desperately holding Shane back—or, so they thought—the Angel lowered its hands. The pressure in the air shifted.

  Feeling like he could breathe again, Dr. Spencer got to his feet to talk some sense into Shane.

  But when the angel spoke in its alien language again, the fight seemed to drain out of Shane in an instant.

  With his shoulders slumped, he half-raised both his hands to show the two that he wasn’t going to act irrationally.

  Dr. Spencer narrowed his eyes. Shane did not seem like a man that would easily back down from a fight.

  What had the White Wing said?

  At that exact moment, the results of Dr. Spencer's [Minor Appraisal] skill finally pierced through all the warning signs.

  White text flooded his vision, overriding the red error message.

  [Entity Analysis Complete]

  [Name: White Wing]

  [Type: Projection(Avatar)]

  [Power Level: Equivalent to a Rank A (High)]

  [Note: Main body is not present on this plane.]

  A projection?

  Dr. Spencer sucked in a deep breath. So this wasn't the angel's real body. Not exactly a clone, since it’s probably still a part of the White Wing and connected to it mentally.

  Nontheless, it was a monstrosity with power roughly equal to a high-end A-rank boss. It was strong enough to easily kill them all, so all he could hope for was that Shane wouldn't do anything reckless again.

  Cautiously, since they sensed the tension leave Shane’s muscles, Dr. Spencer and Henry loosened their hold on him.

  But Shane’s next words, directed at the White Wing, were even more shocking.

  “...Fine,” Shane said, his voice low but clearly carrying across the silent swamp. “Provided these two are left unharmed.”

  Henry practically jumped out of his skin.

  “What are you saying!”

  Dr. Spencer was sharp enough to catch onto Shane and the angel’s conversation.

  ‘Provided these two are left unharmed’?

  Was Shane negotiating with that monster?

  Had he gone completely insane?

  They were facing a monster that even a top Ranker would struggle against!

  Was he taking the bodyguard job so seriously that he’d make a deal with an angel just to keep him and Henry Stone safe?

  And words with the Wings weren’t just flitting conversations. A promise always turned into a deal that was not easy to break.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Dr. Spencer stared up at him.

  Shane seemed to feel his gaze and glanced down, frowning.

  “I’m not going to toss you to the monster, so cut it with the look.”

  What? What kind of trash does he take me for?

  Did Shane seriously think, that in this moment, Dr. Spencer was afraid that he would abandon him?

  He never expected a bodyguard to try to die for him, for heaven’s sake!

  Henry, nearly grabbing Shane by the collar, demanded, “What did you say to it? What kind of deal did you make?”

  Shane, not even trying to swat Henry’s hand away, spoke in the same voice as before.

  “It said if I surrender, it’ll let you two go.”

  “Surrender? What do you—”

  Before Dr. Spencer could even process the horror of that statement, a new System window appeared before him.

  [A-rank Dungeon: Shriekswamp has been cleared!]

  A portal tore open again near the White Wing. Another message followed.

  [A textbook clear of the Labyrinth Dungeon! The party member with the highest contribution will receive a bonus reward.]

  Shane surely saw the same messages, but he seemed to pay them no mind.

  He simply gestured to the portal with his eyes.

  “You’re in the way,” Shane said, his voice flat. “Leave.”

  He added, after an uncharacteristic pause, as if his face was fighting his own tongue, “…It’s for the best.”

  Dr. Spencer felt a chill run down his spine. He couldn’t begin to imagine what the Angel had in store for Shane who was pretending to be him, the researcher that dared to unravel the truth behind dungeons.

  It was obvious by now that Shane’s blunt way of speaking was just a front. Probably a mask to keep people at a distance so he could do the hard things alone.

  Henry immediately refused, stepping between Shane and the White Wing.

  “We’re not leaving you behind.”

  Though Dr. Spencer only knew Shane for a short while, he knew the man wouldn’t listen.

  Had the monster been able to truly, physically manifest, it would have simply killed Dr. Spencer, ending the threat of his research permanently.

  But since it couldn't attack physically, it was probably going to target his mind.

  It was going to use an everlasting [Curse].

  A [Curse] that Shane was going to willingly take in Dr. Spencer’s place.

  Then, he heard Shane mutter something under his breath. It was barely a whisper, but in the silence of the clearing, he caught every word.

  "This is no place for the hope of humanity to die."

  Dr. Spencer’s eyes widened. The world seemed to stop.

  The hope of humanity?

  Shane was protecting him, sacrificing himself, because he believed Dr. Spencer’s research was the key to saving the world.

  The thought was so humbling it made him feel sick with shame.

  His research was never for the greater good.

  It was just a weapon he was forging for personal revenge against the monsters that took his family.

  He wasn’t the man Shane thought he was at all.

  Shane stared down at the doctor.

  Though his face was stone because of the [Behavior Lock], he was practically cackling on the inside.

  Dr. Spencer was the only one who could synthesize the drugs he needed to counter his damn Quirks. Of course he couldn’t let his precious supply line die.

  The doctor was his hope.

  [Behavior Lock] was to blame for twisting his words. It couldn't force him to lie, but it could stretch the truth to a ridiculous stretch, but it wasn’t entirely wrong.

  Shane was supposed to stop the apocalypse, so a drug for him was the hope of humanity.

  The White Wing’s voice cut through.

  “?The contract is made. But after that insolence, do not expect your end to be swift.?”

  He almost flinched at the word contract, but he had half-overcome that trauma the last time he made a deal with Ryan Rowland.

  Normally, the White Wing’s [Curse] needed physical contact to take hold. But a verbal approval from both parties coudl also serve as the bridge.

  With a crack, the ground beneath Shane fractured.

  Chains of ethereal blue light shot out from the mud like vipers, wrapped themselves tightly around Shane’s legs, his torso, and finally his neck.

  They tightened, sizzling as they melted through his clothes and burned into his skin, branding him with the [Curse].

  Enraged, Henry summoned a massive war hammer, preparing to charge.

  “Stop!” Dr. Spencer shouted, grabbing his arm with both hands. It would have been easy to toss away an E-rank Awakened, but Henry still had a sane part in his mind that didn’t want to hurt a civilian.

  “Let, go of me,” Henry snarled.

  “You’re just going to end up the same, you idiot! Think for a second! He took that curse to save us. Don’t you dare make that sacrifice go to waste.”

  Humiliation burned on Henry’s face as he looked from Dr. Spencer to Shane.

  Shane’s face was unusually paler.

  He convulsed as the chains on him tightened, and a hacking sound ripped from his throat. A mouthful of dark blood dropped onto the mud.

  The sight of Shane throwing up blood was enough to break Henry’s resolve.

  He dropped his hammer and it vanished into his inventory before hitting the ground.

  Fearing it was a side effect of the [Curse], the two rushed to Shane’s side, but the chains dissolved into his skin, leaving glowing blue runes before fading a second later.

  Shane would have collapsed, if Dr. Spencer hadn’t caught him.

  “Easy, easy,” Dr. Spencer murmured, hooking Shane’s arm over his shoulder.

  At least he seemed to have survived the wrath of an A-rank [Curse].

  Another cough ripped through Shane’s frame, fresh blood tracing paths through the red on his chin and dripping onto the collar of his shirt, joining the dark stains that were already soaking the fabric.

  As Shane tried to brace himself against Spencer's shoulder, he left a bloody handprint on the doctor’s expensive suit jacket.

  Every time he tried to find his footing, another ragged cough would steal his breath and his balance, leaving him sagging against the doctor.

  Yet, as Spencer looked at him, Shane’s gaze was sharp. His eyes were completely fixed on the White Wing, burning with unwavering fury.

  A few warm drops spattered across the doctor’s cheek. The doctor didn’t even blink, only leaning in closer to readjust his grip to take more of Shane’s weight.

  “And so thy righteous wrath doth curdle into fear.”

  This time, the White Wing’s words were in English for both of them to understand.

  Dr. Spencer flinched. But the Angel wasn’t looking at Shane.

  Its cold, pupil-lesseyes had settled on Henry.

  “I had thought thee possessed some fire,” the angel mused. But thou art as all mortals are. Cowards. Selfish.”

  It paused, letting the judgement hang in the air before its eyes flickered to Shane.

  “Thy companion, at least, understood that a price was to be paid. He hath paid it for thee.”

  A faint smirk appeared on the White Wing’s lips at the last words.

  Dr. Spencer felt cold rage ignite in his chest.

  He saw Henry’s hands clench into white-knuckled fists, his face burning red with shame.

  The verbal blow had landed exactly as the creature intended.

  The White Wing began to fade, its task complete.

  “Go ye forth, and be an example unto the other heathens,” it whispered, the wind carrying its voice away. “Let him be your walking monument of thy sins.”

  With that final threat, the White Wing dissolved into motes of light.