It was a joyous day.
Their child had just turned three.
The air was filled with laughter and warmth.
Until—
They froze.
Their hearts nearly stopped.
An uninvited guest sat leisurely in their living room.
He reclined in their chair, sipping from a crystal goblet.
But it wasn't wine.
It was blood.
His black hair flowed down like a shadowy river.
And his golden eyes… glowed like dying suns, swirling with an ocean of bloodlust.
Without a word, they knew exactly who he was.
The Butcher.
The father began to sweat profusely.
He forced a trembling smile. "It's… a joyous moment… for the Butcher to visit us."
Daniel laughed.
A deep, manic laugh that echoed like a death knell, shaking the walls, chilling their souls.
He released his killing intent—thick, suffocating, monstrous.
It weighed down like a mountain of corpses.
He had killed hundreds of thousands.
His aura alone screamed of massacre.
"Don't you remember me?" Daniel said, removing his mask.
