Novel & Cerita Noble Beast Machines

she tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t quite cooperate. Dante grinned—a little, tough, Romano grin. “Messy’s our specialty. Impossible just means we’re not done yet.” They reached a massive, round door—like a vault, glowing orange-hot. It hurt to look at. Hiss! Steam blasted out from the edges. Three machines dropped from the ceiling—not the shiny soldiers from before, but giant spiders, all copper and glass. In each spider’s belly, a burning coal glowed like a tiny, furious sun.

Of course Christopher Henry Jameson—also known as Beast- wasn't the average man. He stood 6'5" and weighed three hundred and two pounds. He didn't like the extra three pounds. He rather liked being in the two hundred weight range even if it was by just one or two pounds. Regardless, there wasn't an ounce of fat on his perfect body. Beast was muscles on top of muscles, yet not hulking like some of the others that worked in the Marine Corps division assigned to The Department of Home Land Security, or better known as DHS. Too big made you slow. He'd seen guys bigger than him hospitalized during the CRUCIBLE training.

Maybe it's because mommy is fond of her, too. After they harassed me, we decided to go home in a helicopter owned by Keion and he was also its pilot. The underground is on a private island where the race takes place. Above it is a normal beach house mansion. You wouldn't think there was a race track underneath. We split up with friends in buying that island. As well as our construction of the mansion and everything in it. We have equal rights. The five of us own this organization. We can also call ourselves drug lord hunters.

Jack said. They scrambled down the ventilation shaft, moving toward the parallel service tunnel where Grog had stashed his "vehicle." It wasn't a mining cart. It was a monstrosity. A rusted iron box welded onto a high-speed maglev chassis Grog had stolen years ago. It had a V8 engine bolted to the back for extra thrust. "She is named 'The Beast'," Grog said proudly, patting the rusted hull. They piled in. It was a tight squeeze. Jack sat in the front, Marcus at the controls (which consisted of a steering wheel from a 1990 Ford and a big red lever).

She stood at the center of the hunters’ encampment, surrounded by shadowy figures, her heart pounding as her transformation inched closer to completion. The hunters had prepared well for this moment. Silver chains bound her wrists, sapping her strength, while intricate runes glowed faintly around the perimeter, designed to weaken werewolves and disrupt their abilities. The red moon overhead amplified their magic, casting long shadows that seemed alive. Jake stood nearby, his hybrid form fully revealed under the moon’s light. His monstrous figure looked even more grotesque now—his wolf-like features stretched unnaturally, his claws glinting like daggers in the crimson glow.

Zavier asked. Niccolo hesitated. Zavier noticed. (Translation: Where did the money go?) "Respóndeme rápidamente." Zavier warned him. Niccolo straightened. (Translation: Answer me quickly.) "Casinos. Mesas clandestinas. Juegos de alto riesgo. Lo perdió todo. Incluso lo que no era suyo." Niccolo completed. Zavier leaned forward now, elbows resting on the table. His face remained calm, but the air changed-thickened, tightened.

But the employee bought it, thinking Garland was sulking because his bluff had been called. "I'm just an employee," he consoled. "The boss's identity is a secret, but you've got a good eye. Our machines are the best, shipped straight from Orkgate. Top quality and all legitimate." Debra's mind raced. If the machines were from Orkgate, then Drake had to be involved. They stood in front of a door. The employee pushed it open to reveal a smoky room filled with the clanking of slot machines. "Come on in," the employee gestured.

His behavior made it hard to tell if he was human or beast. Dark beasts had innate talents, especially those with noble bloodlines, which allowed them to grow stronger over time. For example, a saber-toothed demonic tiger started as a level-one dark beast but could grow into a level-nine dark beast just by eating and sleeping, an ability humans could only envy. Humans lacked inherited memory, so even if dark immortals obtained dark beast limbs, they couldn’t gain the beast's legacy and remained inferior to real dark beasts.