Chapter 260: Dead Beat Hero!

Kaisen chuckled to himself as he casually told the cats to scram, waving them off like they were flies buzzing around his grand performance.

"Run along, kittens. Leave the big bad dogs to me."

The cats, wide-eyed and clearly relieved, bolted out of there faster than you could say "furry massacre."

Now, it was time for the real fun. Kaisen had the dogs running scared, and honestly, it was hilarious.

They scattered like headless chickens, panicked and desperate, thinking they might outrun the one-man apocalypse they'd just witnessed.

But Kaisen wasn't about to let them off that easy. Oh no, he was herding them—like a twisted farmer guiding his prized cattle straight into the slaughterhouse.

He took his time too, zigzagging through the village, popping up here and there just to give the mutts a good scare. He didn't even need to get close. Just a flash of his smile or a little tap on the shoulder, and they were practically wetting themselves, running in circles like idiots.

Finally, he nudged them toward the shattered monument, where the entrance to the underground bunker yawned open like the maw of some dark, hellish beast.

The dogs, in their infinite wisdom, thought they'd stumbled upon a hidden treasure.

Except... they couldn't see a damn thing inside. They all just stood there, huddled together, peering into the pitch-black abyss like they were contemplating whether it was worth the leap.

At the back of the pack, the dogs could hear Kaisen's manic giggles echoing across the battlefield like the soundtrack to their worst nightmare.

The dude was a straight-up lunatic, dancing around, grinning like he'd just won the lottery while the world burned around him.

It was enough to make any grown man—or in this case, grown dog—question their life choices.

"Jump! He's getting closer!" one of the dogs barked, wide-eyed and twitchy.

"Are you out of your damn mind? I don't even know what's down there!" another growled, peering over the edge of the abyss like it was about to swallow his soul.

"I swear I can hear him! His crazy ass is right behind us! JUMP, you dumbasses!"

Kaisen, of course, was loving every second of it.

He took his sweet time, deliberately stomping his boots louder just to mess with them, watching as these hulking beasts shoved and jostled each other like panicked toddlers trying to squeeze through the world's tiniest doorway.

And then, from the darkness below, came a yelp. A small, terrified yelp.

A kid's voice, unmistakably feline. A little cat kid had spotted the towering dogs looming over the entrance like they were ready to devour anything that moved.

The magic that shrouded the bunker made the drop look like an endless pit—a black hole to nowhere—but the folks inside? They had a front-row seat to this disaster.

They could see the dogs, and the dogs could hear the kid, and for a brief, beautiful moment, it was chaos in stereo.

A large dog had fallen straight through the rock, smashing the ceiling of the bunker with all the grace of a drunk bouncer crashing through a glass table earlier.

The dogs, now fully landed and grinning like they just found the dessert table at an all-you-can-eat buffet, took in the scene of pure terror with a sinister delight.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Looks like dinner's served early, boys! Whether it's death or freedom, we're feasting today!"

Snarled one of the bigger dogs, stepping forward like he owned the joint.

His gaze locked onto a small, trembling kid, and without a second thought, he raised his massive clawed hand.

His nails, sharp enough to make a butcher jealous, glinted in the dim light as he reached for the kid, licking his lips in anticipation.

But just as his claws were about to close in, BAM!—out of nowhere, like some last-minute, over-the-top hero entrance, someone dropped from the sky and landed between the dog and the kid with the grace of a goddamn action star.

The dog's hand froze mid-air, and he blinked in confusion, taken aback by this sudden plot twist.

The newcomer stood tall, backlit like the climax of a cheap movie, and you could almost hear the imaginary soundtrack blaring in the background.

The dogs and cats alike stared, slack-jawed, as if they couldn't decide whether they should cheer or just try to survive another minute.

"Stop this nonsense, you fucking idiots!"

Avoice boomed from the entrance, cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter.

"Oh no..."

Muttered one of the dogs, while every single cat in the bunker turned towards the entrance with faces that lit up like someone just told them rent was canceled for the month.

"It's... it's Roland!"

Gasped one of the old men, practically shaking with excitement.

Yeah, it was that Roland—the deadbeat dad and husband who could barely manage to keep his house in order but somehow always showed up at just the right moment when shit was really hitting the fan.

At home? Useless. But out here? For the people of this village, Roland was the real deal—the guy who'd stroll into danger like he was going out for groceries.

Sure, he had all the charisma of a wet mop when it came to his family, but on the battlefield? Dude was legendary.

Do the dogs know about this guy? Oh, they knew him, alright.

Roland didn't even flinch. He was up against twenty-five fully grown, pissed-off dog warriors. A fight like this?

Absolute suicide. But the thing is, Roland wasn't famous because of brute strength—nope, not at all. His real power was something else.

He was a genius at setting traps and turning the battlefield into a living nightmare for anyone who crossed him. The dude had more tricks up his sleeve than a sketchy magician at a cheap casino.

With a casual neck crack, he squared up. No speeches, no bravado. He just raised his hand and did the most insulting thing he could possibly do—he beckoned the dogs. Like, come at me, daring them to bring it.