Nightmare Paradise : Starting as a Doctor

Lynn's close proximity afforded him a gruesome view of the carnage that ensued. As the silver-infused buckshot found its mark, the werewolf's disproportionately large head was ruthlessly torn apart by the explosive blast. The sheer force of the impact shattered the skull into fragments, sending splinters and shards in all directions.

As the echo of the gunshot faded, an eerie silence settled over the area. The creature's body, once filled with frenzied struggle against the entangling threads, now hung lifelessly, leaving behind only a limp and motionless form.

The threads, having served their purpose, retracted back into Lynn's body, releasing the corpse to crumple bluntly to the ground.

Wanting to observe the werewolf’s body more closely, Lynn approached the corpse, but he was surprised by the headless werewolf beginning to metamorphosis. The once-massive creature began to undergo a remarkable transformation.

Lynn's sharp eyes observed as the werewolf's form began to shift. The coarse fur that once cloaked the creature's form started to recede, revealing pink human flesh underneath. The werewolf's misshapen limbs, which had been formidable and menacing, gradually began to shrink and reshape. The elongated and powerful paws transformed into more familiar human limbs, claws retracting into regular fingers.

Within moments, the hulking werewolf transformed into the naked body of a middle-aged man. The only indication of the link between the human and its previous form was the missing head and the gruesome stump where it had once been.

As the transformation unfolded before Lynn's eyes, a mix of realization and somber reflection settled upon him. "They are humans," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as he stared at the motionless, headless body before him.

His expression remained impassive, but within him, a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions churned. Deep down, he recognized that he had probably just killed someone and that he should experience some semblance of guilt or inner conflict upon taking another's life. However, as he delved into the depths of his psyche, he encountered... nothingness. There was no trace of hesitation or remorse to be found.

For a moment, he simply stood over the body, lost in contemplation. This kill had changed something within him - he could feel it. But what that change meant for his future, he could not yet say.

He recalled the pack of wolves from the confrontation earlier, their eyes gleaming with unnatural intelligence. There had been something anomalous about them from the start.

Now it all made sense - they were not true wolves at all, but humans who were somehow transformed into these feral beasts. "But why did the werewolf return to its previous state, and the wolves did not?", muttered Lynn. Many questions swirled through Lynn's mind but with no answers.

Finally, Lynn let out a long, slow breath and shook his head. This was neither the time nor place for philosophical musings.

His gaze shifted downwards, settling upon the shotgun firmly gripped within his hand. Its impeccable craftsmanship and formidable capabilities held an undeniable allure. Lynn couldn't help but be captivated by its power, such an item would be invaluable for his continued survival in the dangerous dungeons and trials ahead.

A surge of desire coursed through him as he contemplated the possibilities. Lynn's fingers tightened around the shotgun, his mind tracing the contours of its design. He weighed the benefits of retaining such a potent tool against the risks and sacrifices that might accompany it.

However, the fact that such a powerful weapon ended up in the hands of a young and seemingly inexperienced agent greatly dampened Lynn's enthusiasm and made him think more clearly.

Lynn's fingers traced the intricate etchings along the barrel of the shotgun, his mind deep in thought. He couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that the presence of such a powerful weapon in the hands of a seemingly inexperienced agent was anything but coincidental. It defied logical explanations of resource allocation within an organization.

"No organization would take such a risk," Lynn mused aloud, his voice filled with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. "Even if they had the means to recover the weapons, it would still be a reckless approach. There must be something else at play here."

His mind delved into the realm of possibilities, exploring various scenarios that could explain the mystery before him.

"Unless," Lynn continued, his voice tinged with curiosity, "he possesses a formidable and influential background that could enable him to acquire extraordinary weaponry surpassing his current abilities. “

In any case, it would be risky to take this weapon. The wisest choice would be to leave it behind. Otherwise, he would likely be pursued by the people behind this young agent for stealing such a valuable and extraordinary weapon.

"Interesting..." Lynn muttered, his curiosity continued to intensify as he contemplated the situation. His gaze shifted back to the young agent, who lay motionless amidst the debris.

A cunning thought crossed his mind, he wondered if he could extract valuable information from this guy. With a mix of caution and intrigue, Lynn took a moment to assess the situation before cautiously approaching the agent's still form.

Crouching down, Lynn inspected the agent more closely. His suit jacket and shirt were ripped open where the werewolf's claws had raked across his chest, leaving behind deep gashes oozing blood. Although the wounds looked severe, upon closer inspection, Lynn realized that they were not as dire as they seemed.

Lynn's words cut through the silence like a blade. "You can stop pretending to be unconscious now," he declared, his voice filled with authority and a hint of impatience.

His statement hung in the air, met with an eerie silence. The man lying on the ground remained motionless, his breathing shallow

Lynn's eyes narrowed, aiming the shotgun directly at the agent's body. "I won't ask again," Lynn stated, his voice cold.

Immediately, the young man's eyes snapped open. "Wait, don't shoot!" he exclaimed, raising his arms defensively.