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There were no traces, which in itself was strange.

The location was not mistaken.

Then why was the corpse gone?

Even if it had disappeared, there should at least have been some sign that a body had been there.

On this strange phenomenon, I could reach only two conclusions.

The first: genetically enhanced soldiers vanish completely after death—measures taken, perhaps, to prevent the leakage of technology.

The second: outside interference.

In other words, someone removed the corpse and concealed the fact that anything had ever been here.

It had to be one of the two, but there was no way the body could naturally disintegrate without a trace.

If the first were true, it would simply mean I had wasted my time.

But if the second were the case, I couldn’t predict what consequences might follow.

That said, would anyone who saw a human upper body and a headless giant spider truly conclude that they had once been one creature?

Unless they had seen it before with their own eyes, they would at most connect it as “a devoured human and a dead spider.”

The truth would never come close, but this raised another point of suspicion.

The soldiers at the cave.

Why was such a disciplined and highly motivated unit being deployed to such a remote location?

What if they had secured the body and erased all signs of it?

The more I thought about it, the more unsettling it became.

Technical leaks should have been impossible.

But I could not allow Spider-Man’s corpse to be exploited.

After all, I had nearly been killed once by his poison.

His acid and webs, too, had been effective against me—if those were replicated, or something similar created, the consequences would be dangerous.

(Should I lament how troublesome this is… or be glad I learned of it beforehand?)

The best case would be if the Empire’s splendid technology had already disposed of everything.

But “betray expectations at the crucial moment” was practically a national specialty of my homeland.

Having reached the conclusion that “I need to confirm this,” I let out a long sigh.

Suspicion pointed above all to the cave.

Its security could not be called airtight, but for such a remote place it was absurdly over-guarded, practically screaming “please doubt us.”

The question now was how to deal with them.

I was already an enemy of the Kingdom of Canaan, so that much was no longer the issue.

But if I raised my threat level too far and forced them to form alliances with other nations, that would be troublesome.

As it stood, this should not be a problem—but what if I killed a noble or an important figure among them?

If the elves were prompted to move in response, that would be disastrous.

Unlikely, yes—but not impossible.

More than anything, if the elves who had carried back reports about Spider-Man learned of this, what would happen?

“I can’t move too loudly…”

In a single phrase, this situation was “a real pain.”

If I left it alone, the risk was great.

If I interfered, I risked suspicion of being connected to Spider-Man.

And though I did have camouflage abilities, in a cave’s confined space my bulk made hiding almost impossible.

Resolving this peacefully without being discovered was a hopeless prospect.

So instead, I would resort to violent resolution without being discovered.

In short: I was ready to risk exposing my trump card, the “camouflage ability,” for this stealth mission.

It was a bitter choice, but when weighing best and worst outcomes, it was not a bad gamble.

As long as I avoided the worst, the balance would lean positive.

The best case: Spider-Man’s corpse was preserved, and I succeeded in stealing it without being discovered.

Then I could devour it and experience the third dream.

The worst case: the corpse wasn’t there, my camouflage was exposed, survivors carried the report back, and suspicions about me spread.

If elves added their testimony, my ties to the Empire would be exposed.

Then I would surely become the enemy of the entire world, and even my survival would be in doubt.

But in truth, if I did nothing, the time limit would come and the same thing would happen anyway—only sooner or later.

So I set my resolve.

I returned to the cave, activated my camouflage, and used tents for cover as I closed in, mapping out every soldier’s position and distance.

(Thirteen soldiers outside in total… fewer than expected, but knocking them out or killing them without anyone inside the cave noticing—that’s no easy feat, is it?)

Their positioning was particularly bad.

Not everyone was scattered: three were resting inside tents, three tents in all.

Two stood at the cave entrance.

The last two patrolled separately around the cave.

So I decided to start by silently taking down the patrols.

I crept up, struck their necks with hand chops to feign knocking them out, but actually killed them.

Then I approached the two at the entrance, threw a stone to distract them, and when they turned, punched one in the gut.

He flew backward, crashing into the other, and by bad luck struck his head on a sharp rock, dying instantly.

The other’s abdomen was wrecked—he died as well.

Before any alarm could spread, I rushed to the tents.

But they had heard the sound—“What’s going on!?” one shouted, stepping out.

I forced him back inside with brute strength, and when he fell, he struck his head hard and was knocked out.

I couldn’t let them see me, so I struck from behind the tent cloth, killing the remaining two.

One died of blunt trauma, another from a caved-in skull.

That cleared one tent.

I moved to the next.

They had been asleep, so they came out slowly, and I cut them down before they could even react.

Blood spread beneath the collapsed tent, but still no one emerged from the final one.

So I crushed it outright, with the same results.

For some reason, none of the corpses wore pants.

In the end, one survivor remained.

To remove any risk, I snapped his neck and posed him in a “combat death” position to cover my tracks.

I tried the same with the other corpses—placing weapons in their hands—but it was hardly convincing.

(Well, at least I’ve learned that with my increased strength, holding back has become even harder. That’s something.)

Consoling myself, I moved into the cave.

Inside, there were fewer people than expected.

I made it deep without much resistance—only three deaths inside the cave.

But even with camouflage, the torchlight made movement risky, since shadows gave me away.

So my options were only striking from behind, or ambush.

Still, I met little resistance and pressed on, until I saw the place where the back door had been.

The rubble had been cleared, but the massive hole I had made remained.

Inside the room, three men stood.

And on the table before them lay the preserved human half of Spider-Man.