There Must Be Something Wrong With This Game!

Deep beneath the metropolis, an incubation pod opened. The nutrient fluid within was drained, and the humanoid figure inside was released.

It was a slender, blonde woman. Her tall frame was covered in surgical scars from her modifications. The absence of her lungs and other organs made it nearly impossible for her to adapt to the outside environment. The moment she left the incubation pod, she began gasping for air.

Soon, a full Werewolf combat suit was delivered by mechanical arms, which then forcibly dressed her.

Based on her appearance alone, the woman could be considered quite beautiful. However, a lack of emotion made her seem as cold as a doll, and her eyes held an inhuman quality.

The mechanical arms had no concept of being gentle with a woman. Their rough movements caused the connection point between her chest and the combat suit to start bleeding, but she remained silent.

"Number 450, your death has caused unnecessary losses to the Sinful Corporation. The cost of this body replacement will be added to your debt."

Hearing the broadcast, Number 450 gave a slight nod to show she understood.

She had no emotions. To her, the mounting debt was just a number.

The Sin President of the Sinful Corporation was a timid, cautious man who trusted no one.

He always suspected that those around him would betray him out of some sense of morality, and this suspicion and distrust only intensified as his status grew.

Finally, when he became the Sin President, he was shocked to find that, looking all around, there wasn’t a single person he could trust.

But soon, he realized he had a large number of criminals at his disposal.

’If I don’t have anyone to trust, then I’ll just create a group I can.’

He promised the criminals reduced sentences and had them "volunteer" to take on the debt for their modifications. He personally performed prefrontal lobotomies on them and altered their genetic expression to ensure their new bodies were created without a prefrontal cortex, guaranteeing they would be as obedient as puppets.

The modification surgeries brought him unprecedented pleasure. The organic integration of human bodies and machines became his new hobby. The criminals, who couldn’t truly die, became his toys. The final result was the Werewolf mercenary Legion—emotionless and incapable of betrayal.

With them shackled by debt, the Sin President could finally entrust his security to the Werewolves. He could then curl up safely in his room and continue pursuing his favorite endeavors.

Fully re-equipped, Number 450 readied her Equipment and rushed out of the basement, heading decisively toward the location of her previous death.

Although they lacked a prefrontal cortex, the brain’s compensatory effect had given the Werewolves another ability: an exceptional capacity for learning.

Number 450 was the best among them. Each death further enhanced her combat experience, teaching her how to avoid the next one.

This method of learning without fear of death turned every Werewolf into a battle-hardened veteran. Combined with the weaponry provided by the Sinful Corporation, it made the Werewolves the corporation’s most formidable mercenary Legion.

Carrying fifty kilograms of gear, Number 450 sprinted while analyzing the cause of her recent death and considering how to avoid it.

By the time she reached her destination, she found her opponent had already left.

However, his scent lingered in the air. She had committed it to memory, something that even death could not erase.

A Werewolf never forgets its prey.

Especially prey that has killed it before.

Because Duan Fei’s drone was destroyed, its electromagnetic shielding had failed, allowing Number 450 to summon her own drone.

She called her drone and, riding it like a surfboard, shot forward, following Duan Fei’s scent. Finally, she spotted him running between the buildings.

She decisively chambered a round in her pistol and fired rapidly at Duan Fei. The bullets grazed past him, leaving a trail of holes in the wall, which alerted him to the Werewolf in the air.

Clinging to the wall, Duan Fei beckoned to her with his finger and shouted, "Come and get me!"

And she did.

Without a shred of hesitation, Number 450 leaped directly from her drone, dagger in hand, and thrust it toward Duan Fei’s chest. In the next instant, she would slice him in two.

POP~

The instant she got close to Duan Fei, a POP POP POP sound echoed as zombie-like arms emerged from within the wall, appearing like phantoms.

Two arms seized Number 450 in mid-air. A face wearing a tattered white sunhat popped out from behind the wall. Its pitch-black eyes seemed to lead straight to the underworld, and the smile on its face was filled with unfathomable evil and eeriness.

POP POP POP~

Following a series of unintelligible sounds, Number 450 was torn in half in mid-air by a terrifying, monstrous force.

As she was thrown from the air by Lord Hasshaku, the last thing Number 450 saw was Lord Hasshaku pulling Duan Fei into an embrace and flashing a triumphant smile at her.

Number 450 woke up again.

"Number 450, your death has caused unnecessary losses to the Sinful Corporation. The cost of this body replacement will be added to your debt."

Looking at the loudspeaker nearby, Number 450 shot it to pieces, giving herself a bit of peace and quiet.

Instead of rushing out immediately, she carefully recalled her previous actions, trying to summarize the experience. But the more she analyzed it, the less sense it made.

Her combat experience was richer, and her abilities were stronger.

’The first death could be considered a mutual kill. So what happened the second time?’

Her machine-like brain processed at high speed, but no matter how she ran the data, she couldn’t understand how that woman in white had phased through the building.

’And didn’t her arms get longer?’

’Wasn’t her strength... off?’

The sheer strangeness of it all left her completely baffled. It wasn’t until a second broadcast began that she slowly prepared her Equipment and set out to kill Duan Fei.

Unsurprisingly, she was killed for a third time.

The resurrected Number 450 blankly allowed the mechanical tentacles to equip her, truly unable to comprehend what was happening.

This time, she hadn’t died at the hands of Lord Hasshaku, because she had decided to avoid close combat.

What she never expected, however, was that Duan Fei had simply swung a Crowbar, and that Crowbar had somehow crossed the distance between them and blown her head off.

The bizarre situation was beyond Number 450’s comprehension, leaving her dumbstruck and unsure of what to do.

These last few deaths were so far outside her understanding that she had no idea where to even begin her analysis.

Just then, another Werewolf team member died and was resurrected.

Grabbing the newly revived teammate, Number 450 ordered him in her capacity as captain, "Go to the post office building. Find an enemy, engage in combat, and then report your analysis to me."

"Yes, ma’am."

A few minutes later, that teammate also returned, resurrected, with a bewildered expression on his face.

Not long after, a third team member went to attack Duan Fei under Number 450’s orders, but he too soon returned, bewildered.

Before long, nearly half of the Werewolf squad had returned, all staring at each other in confusion, completely unable to figure out how they had died.

Finally, one of the Werewolves spoke up. "This is not a problem we can comprehend."

"Agreed."

"It must be some kind of mysterious weapon."

"Agreed."

"Perhaps... we should try growing brains and then think about how to deal with him."

"Agreed."

Because of Duan Fei’s bizarre methods, the Werewolves were caught in a strange loop.

They couldn’t analyze the problem through death, so their only option was to try to grow brains in order to figure out how to counter their opponent.

A situation like this had never occurred before. Not even the Sin President had imagined that this group of Werewolves would actually try to grow brains to find a solution.

But then, a team member asked a question: "How do we grow brains?"

"Hmm..."

Lacking prefrontal cortexes and parts of their brains, the Werewolves once again fell into a state of confusion.

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