Novel & Cerita Predator Vision

Killing intent flooded the space—dense and suffocating, like a rising tide that surged into a violent tsunami crashing straight toward Evan. Nightingale, dressed in black, melted into the shadows. Only the cold flash of her dagger betrayed her presence. Butcher raised a sniper rifle nearly as tall as a man and unleashed a barrage at Evan. This time, he had even loaded internationally banned dumdum rounds, determined to kill in a single shot. Predator drove forward with a full-force punch—raw, destructive power paired with terrifying speed. Specter's visor flickered rapidly, analyzing and predicting Evan's next move as his body dissolved into shifting shadows.

Patience. Her eyes are scanning through the list with full fledged fear in them— Her body is stiff, like whatever move she makes would make me find her— Hunt her down. I can feel every predatory nerve in my body bristle just by the sight of her. It is hard to even imagine or comprehend there's a wolf inside her. She's such a mouse. Weak. Vulnerable. Mine.

- KILLIAN - Fear. Even from a mile away, I can sense the fear of my prey. It’s very satisfying for a predator to witness the defeat of a victim before it’s claimed as a conquest. And right now, I am that predator, enjoying the trivial acts of my prey. I thrive on it. Dine on it even. And just at the right time, when I have her cornered, I’ll strike and leave nothing untouched. Hunting has never felt so divine.

] [Major abuse will activate a Predator Overload causing temporary lost of control. [Extreme abuse will activate the Bloodlust Curse. The host will become a monster.] “Whoa! I didn’t know that skill abuse would come in different tiers,” she joked. [Predator Instincts is danger perception, it acts like the host’s sixth sense.] [You can detect killing intent.] “Understood. I’ve learned my lesson during the procession. I can’t be that careless especially now that Harakel is gone.” Nesca heaved a deep sigh as the image of her companion appeared in her mind.

No. "I'd say the blue of a freshly defrosted lake more than clouds." I blink. "Are you reading my mind?" He shrugs, "Sometimes peoples thought are easy to see. Mostly they aren't." I gap at him. "What does that even mean?" "Nothing really. It's not mind-reading, Andrea... call it a six sense, all supernatural beings have it." He stands from the sink, towering over me. "We are all predatory species Andrea, that's our nature." He cocks his head to the side, the movement distinctly animalistic, and I realise how true is, "even your dog boys are lethal predators first."

Logo’s Gondarian Eye, however, had become even more extraordinary after fusing with the Insightful Pupil—superhuman sight paired with astonishingly rapid calculation. As his pupil narrowed into focus, the entire world seemed to slow before him. Even the slightest movement of the Blackarmored Boar was captured with flawless precision. Within the Gondarian Eye, phantom afterimages of the beast appeared one after another. This was prediction. Wind pressure struck his face, carrying with it the stench of blood and beast, tossing his hair. Hooves loomed rapidly before his eyes, while those spear-like tusks split the air with a piercing shriek.

His dark hair was short, slightly tousled, and there was a tattoo of a snarling beast stretching across his neck. His arms were covered in ink, elaborate designs weaving between jagged scars, a tapestry of violence and pain. His hands—large, calloused, with knuckles split open as if he had been in a fight just hours ago—rested on the table, the fingers curled slightly as though they were used to breaking bones. But it was his eyes that sent a chill down Edwards’ spine. Dark. Cold. Lifeless. This was not a man. This was a predator. And Edwards had just walked into his den.

My vision flickered for a moment, and I felt a rush of energy surging through me as my instincts took over. It started with a tingling sensation in my eyes—my vision shifted colors, changing from brown to a piercing silver. I had never experienced the transformation before, and I’d fought for it for so long. Right now, with the prospect of violence looming over me and my life at stake, it unleashed.

A glimpse and my blood had frozen in my veins. My breaths caught in my lungs, my heart screamed at me to run. But my body was paralyzed under his scrutiny. Predatory scrutiny. His eyes glowed a murderous red. Fangs, sharp enough to shatter boulders. His wolf form, darker than the void itself, bore intricate crimson patterns that pulsed with a mystical glow. The red trident pattern at the center of his forehead glowed like a third eye, resembling an unholy trinity of eyes. I stared at Ezra’s transformed self. There was nothing I could feel in my complete existence except primal fear freezing the marrow of my bones.

I teased, giving his hand a squeeze to make sure that he knew I was joking. He rolled his eyes at me, and smirked. “Pronghorns are one of the fastest animals in the world. They can run for long periods of time – like curious, studious minds fixated on an idea. They’ve got excellent eyesight, meaning that they can see things other people may otherwise miss. They’re aren’t particularly well defended against predators, so they use creative methods to get out of danger.” “I think I like the Pronghorns the most,” I grinned.