Chapter 101: Life-Burning Mode
[Area Damage Assessment: Shallow Layers of Hell - Sector 5851 Damage Rate: >35% | Status: Structural Collapse Threshold]
[Title Module unlocking...]
[Unlock complete.]
[You have obtained the title: World Breaker]
[Consequences: Triggered Full-Type Spacetime Channel Anchoring]
[Major deviation in the future progression of this dimension; Destiny Interference confirmed]
[Destiny Value Gain: +150%]
[Destiny Value]: 271%
[Soul-type Creature Kill Confirmed: Soul-Sucking Demonbody damage 61%]
[Kill Value]: 354.3%
[Blood Hunt Value]: 296.9%
[Warning: You have been marked by the "Soul-Sucking Demon"!]
[Anti-Marking Protocol initiated—]
[Progress: 30%...64%...85%...100%]
[Anti-Marking complete.]
[Teleportation Anchor activated]
[Accessible Coordinates: Hawkins Town]
"Was that self-destruct bomb really that powerful?"
Green stared blankly at the prompts popping up one after another on the system interface.
Aside from the rewards gained for killing the Lust Clone, the rest all came from that Mutant's self-destruct contribution.
After a night of fierce fighting, he hadn't expected the greatest gain to stem from a whim of a decision.
"But what does'Spacetime Channel Anchoring' mean? Did the explosion blast through space?"
Green clicked his tongue inwardly; fortunately, he hadn't impulsively killed that guy then, otherwise, how would it have been any different from splitting a nuke right in front of his face?
"But then again, can just any Tom, Dick, or Harry mark me now?"
He frowned at the marking prompt, a hint of displeasure in his tone.
[Prompt: Your name has been carved onto one of the thrones in the deepest layer of Hell. The Soul-Sucking Demon was able to establish a marking connection with you by applying to the Source of Hell.]
[Once you officially promote to a Demon King-level existence, such secondary interference will be automatically shielded.]
"Tsk."
Green's eyes darkened slightly.
"I'll find some time to visit its hometown. Since it loves marking so much, let's settle this 'offline'."
"Sir, please extinguish your cigarette. We're ready to begin your decontamination."
A staff member in a hazmat suit reminded him respectfully; behind the face shield, those eyes hid an irrepressible admiration, perhaps even fanaticism.
This wasn't the headquarters. Green hadn't flown directly back to New York. Radiation decontamination required professional equipment, which only a few state branches were capable of manufacturing.
Of course, the group of scientists who developed this equipment were by no means good people.
In Drake's words, if the headquarters was the Holy See, then this place was the monastery, filled with believers obsessed to the point of madness with occult research.
They practically revered Green, an explorer who could constantly bring back samples, like a god.
As front-line researchers, no one knew better than they did what those unknown existences implied.
They had personally handled samples brought back from the scene, and behind those samples lay a deeper layer of fear.
It wasn't just known danger, but rather that beyond danger, there was the unknown.
Within the unknown, there were even deeper unknowns, nested layer upon layer without end.
Green dealt with these things and was still alive today.
It was no exaggeration to say that here, his word carried more weight than Drake's.
"Mm." Green casually stubbed out his cigarette, tilted his head back to drain the remaining wine in his glass, and handed the empty glass back before walking naked into a sealed chamber.
Next door was an identical chamber, where a person lay fixed by restraints and under anesthesia.
The routine isolation period was seven days.
Considering that mutated viruses might have longer incubation periods or uncontrollable infection risks, The Foundation had developed an artificial twin organ system based on research into dark species.
This chamber structure could forcibly transfer all magic-side biological viruses/radiation from one body to another through a physical flesh conduction mechanism.
The Foundation had purchased a large number of death row inmates in advance as consumables; the person next door was such a disposable tool—one activation cost one life.
It was just that the process wasn't very pleasant for either party.
"Sir, do you require restraints and anesthesia?" the staff member asked.
"No need." Green stepped into the chamber and took a seat on the chair—more accurately, it was an electric chair, with gripping pillars thoughtfully designed into the armrests.
"Yes." The staff member said no more, started the equipment, and quickly exited the isolation room.
This device was still in the experimental stage, with a certain probability of exploding during operation; he didn't want to be blown into a pile of mangled meat and then shoveled into the incinerator by his colleagues.
The incandescent light in the chamber gradually dimmed. Green currents surged from beneath the seat, climbing up his spine and embedding stabs of pain inch by inch into his nerve endings.
Physiological tremors were forcibly triggered, and withdrawal hormones screamed deep in his brain, but his paralyzed body couldn't even manage a shiver.
A scream came from next door, yet Green remained silent. This level of pain was not even a tenth of what he'd felt when the Drogon template was unlocked.
Sinking his consciousness into the system panel, he "looked" at the newly unlocked title.
[Title Unlocked: World Breaker]
[Base Effect: Charisma +3 toward Evil Faction | Charisma -30,000 toward Friendly/Order Factions]
[Host detected to be inconsistent with faction traits...]
[Title effect undergoing adaptive adjustment...]
[Adjustment complete.]
[New effect has overwritten default parameters—]
[Effect: While in the Aura Release state, applies a Charisma modifier of -30,000 to all targets indiscriminately.]
[Description: This effect is a forced deterrence-type aura, ignoring target faction and acting primarily on the perceptual level.]
[This title is mandatory and cannot be unequipped.]
"...Why is my alignment leaning more and more toward a Demon King? I don't actually want to be one."
Green felt a bit innocent. Although he had accidentally blown up nearly half a World, his underlying logic was to protect this World.
This crappy World didn't even give him a decent evaluation, and now it was forcing him to wear this? Permanently?
"...Whatever." He accepted it instantly.
How much worse could it get? Maybe once it hit rock bottom, it would bounce back, and people would actually start singing his praises.
He sank his consciousness into the system panel again, scanning the long list of gains, and his mind began to race.
"There's so much. Which one should I upgrade first?"
[Host intent detected; reviewing host's current combat power system...]
[Suggestion: Charge the new organ with Destiny Value to complete extended evolution and unlock the corresponding combat power system.]
"I haven't even warmed it up yet and you pop up. Doing it on purpose, aren't you?"
[Negative. System Service Agreement Priority One: Ensure host survival and guide the direction of evolution.]
"Fine, take it."
[Command confirmed.]
[Destiny Value being consumed...]
[220%...168%...114%...56%...2%]
[Consumption complete.]
[Nuclear Organ derivation process initiated...]
[Internal cycle docking completed with "True Sky Tyrant Template."]
[True Sky Tyrant Trait 1 fused.]
[Organ evolution complete: Nuclear Organ → Fel Organ]
[Fel Organ]
Trait 1: Can be charged by absorbing nuclear radiation and any negative energy within an 180-meter radius.
Absorbed energy can be applied to Dragons Breath, creating a thermal radiation field and causing dual mutation effects on targets within a 300-meter radius; physical mutation and soul mutation take effect simultaneously.
Trait 2: When the energy bar is full, it can gradually purify the host's Dragon Body, guiding it toward beneficial evolution over a certain period.
Such as: autonomous breathing in space, immunity/absorption of cosmic rays, extreme environment adaptation, etc.
Trait 3: Scarlet Mode (Active)
Can be activated when the energy bar is full. In this mode, the following ability modules can be loaded, forcing the Dragon Body into a full-power hunting state.
[Abyss Gazer]
A biological bio-armor type ability that can increase the host's current attributes by 6.52 to 15 times; the multiplier fluctuates dynamically with the combat power base, while consumption intensifies.
[Valstrax Wings]: Supersonic flight module, locked.
[Psychic Out of Control]: Psychokinesis, locked.
[Planetary Godzilla Nuclear Fission Ray]: Charged long-range strike, locked.
[Singularity Ghidorah Dimensional Shuttling]: Spacetime ability, locked.
[Warning: Scarlet Mode will simultaneously consume the host's blood; safety threshold is 1 minute.]
[Current Fel Bar Storage]: 15%
Was Green happy?
Happy, just a little bit dead.
The moment evolution started, his vision went black. He was knocked unconscious by the pain, then shocked awake by the electricity, only to feel the pain again.
Fine blood and sweat seeped from his pores, steaming into a mist from his body heat, filling the chamber and gradually obscuring his figure.
A low dragon roar ground out from deep in his throat, vibrating the high-strength glass of the chamber.
Not until it was all over did he release the two gripping pillars, which had been crushed into hollows, and leaned back against the chair, gasping for breath.
Good news: He didn't wet himself.
Bad news: He cried from the pain; his eyes were sore.
"Al-Alright, divide the Kill Value equally, and do what you want with the Blood Hunt Value."
Better to have a short, sharp pain than a long, lingering one; a certain stubborn fellow was really pushing himself.
[Command confirmed.]
[Kill Value being consumed...]
[Consumption complete.]
[Ability Enhancement Results—]
[Rider Kick]
Level: 7 → 18
Trait 1: Physical/Finisher/Jumping Skill. Deals physical damage to a single enemy ranging from a minimum of 350% attack power to the maximum physical endurance limit.
Trait 2: Can break through the physical limitations of Trait 1 through willpower, unleashing a kick that exceeds extreme values.
Trait 3: Lower limb bone toughness +10.
[Rider Punch]
Level: 7 → 18
Trait 1: Physical/Burst/Guard-Break Skill. Deals blunt damage equal to 340% attack power to a single target in front, ignoring 28% of the target's defense.
Trait 2: Super Armor. Actions cannot be interrupted when physical damage exceeds 80%.
Trait 3: Upper limb bone toughness +10
[???: Something Incredible Happened!] (Miracle-type, locked)
[Prompt: The above locked modules require Destiny Value to activate. Unit price: 100% / module]
[Host command detected—]
[Selected Item: Shorten Dragon Body growth cycle]
[Blood Hunt Value being consumed...]
[Progress loading...]
[Current Bloodline Template: Valyrian Dragon - Drogon]
[Growth Stage: Adolescent]
[Growth Level: 68%]
[Liberation Level: 0%]
"Wait, I have so much—"
Before he could finish, intense pain struck again. His vision went black, and he fainted yet again.
Chapter 102: Nightlife
After an unknown amount of time, the indicator light on the outer wall of the chamber turned green.
The staff member pushed the door open and entered; he instinctively glanced at the adjacent chamber, and his pupils immediately constricted.
That death row prisoner had completely mutated; a bloated ball of flesh almost filled the entire chamber.
What made his spine chill even more was that the surface of the tumor was not a disorganized growth, but was densely stacked with... the shapes of palms?
"Gulp!" He swallowed hard.
According to past experience, a death row prisoner acting as a transfer subject would show rejection reactions after four days at the earliest, followed by a gradual progression into aberration.
Yet this case before him seemed to be undergoing absorption and aberration simultaneously.
Even the two women following Mr. Green had far from reached this intensity of mutation.
He slowly turned his head, his gaze falling upon the quiet chamber on the other side.
Through the high-strength glass, the mist was so thick it looked like curdled milk churning in the limited space.
A figure was vaguely visible, sitting on a chair with his head hanging, silent, like a faded photograph.
The staff member unconsciously held his breath.
"What exactly did this man face?"
Curiosity and fear finally transformed into a silent awe.
He twisted the wheel and pulled open the hatch; the mist scrambled to pour out like countless hands that had been trapped for a long time.
"Sir, are you alright?" the staff member asked cautiously.
"Ah."
Green looked up, a fleeting blood-red glow flashing in his eyes, his forest-white teeth revealed within his parted lips; he looked pleased and satiated, like a Beast that had just enjoyed a feast.
"Never been better!"
[Green (Unique)]
[Essence: Human / Demon King Candidate]
[Titles]:
World Destroyer • Mad Hunter • Life Foundation Armed Operations Chief • Hydra Top Agent • S.H.I.E.L.D. Level 1 Agent (Hidden Ace) • Vought International Black Card User • High Table Number 0 Assassin • Hells Kitchen — Owl • Gold Medal War Correspondent
(Titles manifest their effects after being spread by the Voice of the World or recognized by many.)
[Destiny Value]: 2%
[Core Modules]
[True · tyrant of heaven] — Evolution Progress: 91.7%
Evolution Condition: Continuous ingestion of high-purity Cursed Energy
Trait 1: Unlimited Counter-Punching; adapts to any nature of enemy offensive during battle and retains 1% of the corresponding resistance after the battle ends.
Trait 2: Can add Positive Energy properties when holding any weapon, creating a special attack effect against existences with [Evil] traits.
Equipped Modules: Kamen Rider Series,
Current Modules: 3
[Slaughter Value]: 0%,
[Valyrian Dragon Remnant - Drogon] — Juvenile Stage: 68%
[Liberation Degree]: 0%
Growth Condition: Hunt marked high-value targets
Trait 1: A Dragonborn body forged by blood magic; all attributes grow automatically with feeding and the passage of time, and body size will evolve synchronously. Mind leans toward rationality, growth cycle is long.
Trait 2: Dragonization; fully unfold the Dragon Body form. Current Dragon Body is 26 meters.
Loaded Modules: Fel Organs; can derive multiple weapon modules and traits for combined tendencies and high-intensity combat forms.
Current Traits: 3, Unlocked Modules: 1
[Blood Hunt Value]: 0%
[Infinite Module]
[Desire of Fantasy]: Uses Destiny Value to bestow adaptive abilities upon any template the host has unlocked.
[Charge]: Can use the [Desire Value] of the template to strengthen bestowed abilities, provided the threshold is broken.
"Call my assistants here." Green pressed on the armrests and pushed himself up.
"All of them?" The staff member was stunned for a moment.
"Of course, all of them."
...
Having finished cleaning up, Wanda walked down the corridor. She held a document in her hand, and when she reached the elevator, she stopped.
Magik was there too, and she had changed into new clothes—a black punk jacket with its studded zipper half-open, revealing a tight base layer underneath.
On her lower half were high-stretch waist-cinching pants, and she was holding a fruit wine platter.
It had to be said, this girl had a high waist-to-hip ratio; the curve slid down from her waist and then rose slightly.
"What? Don't I look good?"
Magik noticed where her gaze was fixed. A hint of craftiness flashed in those blue eyes as she pointedly spun around.
"Hmph, were you ordered by that bastard to be a bar waitress?"
Wanda gave a cold laugh.
"I'm happy to do it."
Magik didn't get angry; instead, she feigned surprise and covered her mouth.
"Oh my, I forgot that a certain lady won't even bite when it's already in her mouth. Hehe, how very reserved."
"You!"
Wanda glared at her, her cheeks flushing slightly.
"How old are you even, to be so 'mature'."
"Experience isn't manifested through the length of time."
A hint of complexity flashed in Magik's eyes, her lips pursed, and then she tilted her head with a cool smile, carrying an indescribable meaning.
"A seven-year-old girl gets kidnapped and spends seven years outwitting an ugly, disgusting Hell Lord. I think I'm doing pretty well now."
Wanda's eyes softened, the previous confrontation fading away, replaced by something much gentler.
"What, you didn't go look for your parents?" she asked, her voice softening a bit.
"Although I don't know much, that guy wouldn't stop you, would he?"
"He didn't."
Magik shrugged.
"He gave me the authority, and the result was a very American-style reunion—they've each remarried.
Even though I tried to convince myself that the flow of time is different—seven years for me, twelve years here—they only looked for me for a few months before reporting me to child services and giving up on me.
And my damn big brother, the famous Colossus, even used my disappearance as an excuse to have threesomes in a college sorority."
"Anyway, a two-meter tall guy who's only twelve, just a little shrimp, crying and repenting while doing it. Truly disgusting."
She shrugged, acting very casual, but there was an imperceptible gloom in her eyes.
"There are always annoying brothers in the family."
Wanda spoke, feeling some empathy.
"Tell me about it."
Ding—
The elevator doors opened.
The metal doors slid to both sides, revealing the scene inside.
The two girls stood in the elevator; the friction from the corridor seemed to have faded, replaced by an indescribable intimacy—the subtle atmosphere that follows having just shared a secret.
But when they saw the open-air bath...
"Oh my God!"
Wanda's eyes widened instantly, and she quickly looked away, two red clouds blooming on her cheeks.
The bath was filled with steam, the lighting dim and suggestive. Figures rose and fell in the ripples, and voices drifted through the air—sounds of soft, lingering moans that made one's scalp tingle.
"You knew already, didn't you?"
She turned her head to look at Magik, her eyes filled with embarrassed annoyance.
"Mm-hmm?"
Magik arched an eyebrow.
"Where else did you think my information came from? It was this lady, Eve; she's one of the World's top hackers."
She tilted her chin toward the elevator door to introduce her.
A beautiful, naked woman stood before the elevator doors; she didn't have a stitch of clothing on, yet she showed no sign of shyness whatsoever.
Her skin was fair and her figure voluptuous—full where it should be full, tight where it should be tight. Her long hair was draped over her shoulders, the ends slightly curled.
Eve reached out to take the platter with an elegant motion, her fingers long and her nails painted a dark red.
"I am the deputy manager of this branch. You can consult me if you have any questions, Miss Wanda."
She smiled politely at Wanda, her voice carrying a lazy magnetic quality yet remaining clear and organized.
After speaking, she turned around, carrying the tray and swaying her hips as she walked step by step toward Green.
Her mature silhouette was strikingly clear under the colorful lights, the sway of her waist perfectly measured, her hip line swaying gently with her steps like ripples on water.
Steam swirled in the bath.
Green leaned against the edge of the pool, the water reaching his waist. He was seriously teaching Eve's sister, Evelyn, how to hold her breath, his hand pressing down on her bobbing head.
"Oh?"
Green also caught a glimpse of the elevator entrance.
There, Wanda stood awkwardly, her gaze darting away, not daring to look toward the bath.
Magik stood beside her with her arms crossed, looking like she was enjoying the show.
Green raised his hand and beckoned with his finger.
With his other hand, he caught the sliding Eve; she hummed a laugh, giving Green a suggestive look before diving down to help Evelyn.
"Green's assistants include the deputy manager? And doesn't she have a husband?"
Wanda's eyes were a bit chaotic. Should she leave, or should she stay?
"Mm-hmm, she volunteered herself."
Magik tilted her head, looking at her with a half-smile.
"Her husband is currently dissecting plant samples brought back from the canyon. He knows Eve is here, but he doesn't care; he even asked her to say hello to Green for him."
Magik explained, her eyes fixed on Wanda the whole time, as if admiring an interesting scene.
"You can't possibly not know how much of an attraction Green is to these researchers, right?"
"Who knows anything about this bastard!"
Wanda turned her steps, making up her mind to head for the elevator, only to have her wrist grabbed by Magik.
"Let go!"
"Don't you have something to give him?"
Magik's eyes signaled toward the document. The file was being gripped tightly by Wanda, the edges of the paper already wrinkled.
"You take it to him."
"Ah, ah!"
Magik playfully retracted her hands and held them high.
"That won't do. I wouldn't dare pry into secrets."
"No wonder you like him so much; your personality is just as wicked as his."
Wanda stared at her and gritted her teeth.
She hesitated for a few seconds, her gaze shifting back and forth between the bath and the elevator several times. Finally, she took a deep breath and stepped toward Green.
As she passed by Magik...
Slap!
Her pert butt was smacked once.
Wanda's whole body shuddered. Before she could react, her casual clothes transformed into a strapless bright red swimsuit.
"Hey!" She quickly covered her chest and glared at Magik.
"Hehe, now it's fair?" Magik had also transformed into a bikini—a tiny one that fully revealed her figure under the swimwear.
She then waved her hand, signaling her to go over.
Wanda stood in place, staring at that hand for two seconds as if doing final mental preparations. Then she took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Chapter 103: Superman? How Versatile? Show Me What You've Got.
The water vapor grew thicker, and the lighting became increasingly intimate.
Steam billowed through the lights like a thin veil, blurring everyone's silhouettes.
Wanda's soles pressed against the wet porcelain floor; covered in a thin film of water, she left behind shallow prints with every step.
She stood there, looking at that man, her heart skipping a beat.
This fellow, who was gradually occupying more and more space in her heart, was actually so... indulgent.
The shyness of exposing too much of herself in front of someone she cared about welled up from the depths of her soul, washing over her chest and throat like a tide before finally burning her cheeks; she could feel her face flushing with an incredible heat.
"If there's something, just say it."
To her surprise, Green used a businesslike tone—no intimacy, no teasing, nothing she had expected—effectively distancing her from this enchanting water garden.
Wanda pursed her lips, a sudden sense of disappointment filling her heart.
She lowered her eyes, her eyelashes trembling slightly to hide the complex emotions within.
In the end, she simply handed over the document in silence.
Green took it and flipped it open.
His eyes scanned the lines, his expression unchanging.
"After the outbreak of the Dark Species companion incident in Kansas State, where we are now, the Vatican branch took over. However, the secret suppression failed, and now they are requesting that we take charge."
Wanda spoke, glancing up at Green before looking down again.
A string of bubbles rose to the surface of the water.
Eve floated up, leaning against Green's side. Droplets of water ran down her shoulders, dripping and creating small ripples; her wet hair clung to her back, with a few strands hanging over her chest.
"Phew—this is the most terrifying dragon I've ever seen. Of course, I'm not referring to the target."
She brushed her hair back, revealing a smooth forehead and slightly reddened ears.
Her breath was slightly heavy, warm, and hurried, as if she had just finished a long run or some intense exercise; her chest heaved, and those two full mounds swayed along with it.
"It's the same as Superman's origin, but instead of a parody version, it's a blackened version. The codename has been set as 'Brightburn'."
"The target possesses all the abilities of Homelanderduring his youth and is only about twelve years old. Based on information tracing, we found that he crashed onto Earth and was later adopted by a couple in a local small town."
She picked up where Wanda left off, the lust in her eyes quickly receding. She reached out and naturally took the cigarette from Green's lips, took a puff, and slowly exhaled.
She continued.
"But the target's personality is uncontrollable and his IQ is extremely high. It's suspected that a Mental Seal was implanted in advance. We found a spacecraft in that couple's barn with an unknown language inside that is still being deciphered."
"However, the material composing the spacecraft is quite special; it seems to have a specific counter-attribute against Brightburn, much like Kryptonite."
Green turned a page of the document.
His gaze stopped at a certain spot.
"Then who is this witch?"
He curled his lips into a smile, showing a bit of interest. He tapped his fingertip on a photo in the file—a color print of a high school class photo. In the top left corner was a blonde girl.
She was smiling forcedly, the upward curve of her mouth very shallow; there was no joy in her eyes, only a sort of cautious probing.
The students beside her maintained a subtle distance, making her look isolated, like a brightly colored but rotting flower.
"A small town 'double-yolker,' huh? Talk about bad luck."
"Her mother is a heretic," Eve explained.
"Her father ran away from home and hasn't been heard from since. I found his body in an underground casino in a neighboring state; all his useful organs had been removed."
"As for her, she's been under the double pressure of her mother's distorted teachings and school bullying for a long time. Her mind is gradually warping. Coupled with this companion effect, we've monitored massive fluctuations in her supernatural magnetic field."
"To put it simply, she's about to go insane."
"But tonight is her prom."
"Maybe it will be a good psychological comfort."
Wanda spoke up. Looking at the photo and the girl with the forced smile, an indescribable feeling welled up in her heart.
"You're wrong, Miss Wanda."
Eve smiled meaningfully.
That smile held the knowingness of someone who had been there, along with a hint of profound mockery.
"In an extreme negative environment, any visible or touchable hope is, in fact, just a match."
"Don't have a good opinion of American teenagers; most of them are little bastards. Misfortune is always hidden behind a seemingly beautiful cake, and it happens in succession."
She smiled, reminiscing:
"Hmm~ I remember there was a bitch who wanted to burn my hair back then. I used the craft knife I carried with me to slice off half her lip. Those were the days."
"Heh, haha."
Wanda didn't know what to say. She had lost the chance for a normal education before even reaching that stage.
"So, Boss, what's the word?"
Eve turned her head to look at Green, reaching out to pull up Evelyn, who was lingering underwater.
The girl surfaced, gasping for air.
Water droplets ran down her face, which was flushed red—it was unclear if it was from holding her breath or something else. She was nearly suffocating.
But soon, another assistant snuggling nearby swam over, connecting with the strict Coach Green.
Wanda looked away, the tips of her ears tinged with a faint pink, her neck tensed slightly.
"It looks like a lot of trouble."
Green didn't look up, casually tossing the document onto the water's surface as he assisted the girl in front of him, fine-tuning her breaststroke posture.
"You seem plenty motivated to me..." Wanda muttered with a hint of sourness.
Magik had walked over at some point and crouched beside her.
With her hands around her knees and her chin resting on them, she watched Green's 'coaching' with great interest.
"But we can use this as a condition to apply for a deeper partnership with the Vatican."
Eve lifted her long legs and straddled the space in front of Green, where there was still plenty of room.
She sat down, causing the water to ripple.
"You'll have more ample logistical support, Boss."
"Sounds... excellent!"
"Ah—!!"
...
Kansas State, inside a small town farmhouse.
Morning light shone into the house through a broken wooden window frame, squeezing through the cracks in the splintered boards.
But those rays of light failed to reach the figures seated before the chairs.
The interior was dim, shadows coiling around the dining table and swallowing all details. A few people could be vaguely seen sitting at the table, their bodies silent and motionless in the darkness.
A crimson, bloody mouth opened in the dark.
A pink tongue shot out from the bloody maw, licking the head of one of the people; bits of flesh were scraped off, curled into the mouth, and swallowed into the stomach.
The sound of chewing was soft, yet exceptionally clear in this deathly silent space.
When it grew tired, it stepped out from the shadows into the light and stretched its body.
It was a black cat.
Its fur was smooth, gleaming like satin in the morning light; its nose was stained with blood, and its vertical pupils were heartless.
Click!
A flash of white light instantly illuminated the dining table.
The bodies sitting at the table had their muscles exposed; their skin had been peeled away, revealing the red texture and yellow fat beneath.
Strangely, however, the facial skin had been kept perfectly intact.
Familiar faces were plastered onto those bare skulls like masks, their expressions frozen in the final moments before death—a deliberate preservation born of a cruel sense of playfulness.
"Hehe!"
The camera in his hand ejected a finished photo. A blood-stained hand tore off the still-warm picture and held it up to his eyes.
The boy admired his work with delight.
He looked like an ordinary farm boy, twelve or thirteen years old, with some freckles on his face and a mess of blonde hair.
He wore a plaid shirt, jeans, and a pair of mud-caked boots on his feet.
But his expression was exceptionally cruel.
It was a cruelty that understood exactly what he had done, yet did it anyway for the sake of pleasure.
It wasn't the chaos of a madman or the instinct of a Beast; it was conscious, intentional, and enjoyed.
He was Brandon Breyer, a human name.
Or rather, an invasive hatchling sent to Earth from his home planet.
To adapt to the environment and complete his growth cycle, he was shaped into human form by the mimicry technology built into his spacecraft.
And human so-called 'love' happened to provide the most ideal nursery; the nourishment of emotion accelerated the formation of his cognitive structure.
Three days ago, the summons from the spacecraft awakened the true will hidden deep within his genes.
Simultaneously, the intervention of some unknown dark power forced his desire threshold to expand, and his behavioral inhibition mechanisms gradually collapsed.
He had successively executed a classmate's mother, followed by his aunt, his uncle, and several missionaries who could have harmed him.
Finally, his adoptive parents.
But he didn't think he had done anything wrong.
They wouldn't listen.
Disobedient pets should be disposed of.
He wasn't wrong.
"Meow~~"
The black cat let out a high-pitched cry and jumped down from the table, its tail curled high like a soft flagpole.
It rubbed against Brandon's leg, its fur brushing against his pant leg and leaving behind a few fine black hairs.
"Go eat the ones outside, don't touch mine," Brandon said, glancing down at it with a flat voice.
When he came back, his adoptive mother had called the police and the sheriff had arrived, but now he was smeared on the wall by the door, turned into'Sheriff Jam.'
And that black cat also came from his home planet; to be precise, it was his companion organism.
Its role was that of a pet, as well as his breeding partner.
Its intelligence level was lower than his, possessing only basic obedience and command response capabilities, with no independent will.
Due to the difference in their time flow, its landing was much later than expected.
The black cat nudged Brandon's pants as if in response, then turned and walked toward the door.
It pressed its head against the crack in the door, giving it a gentle push to open it slightly wider.
It squeezed out, disappearing into the morning light outside.
He pulled out the chair at the head of the table—his adoptive father's seat, a simple and honest farmer.
He sat down obediently, picked up the bowl, and began eating his freshly softened cereal.
After eating, he planned to go rape that female classmate who had killed his 'mother'—that bitch, how dare she reject his advances. A mere monkey being injected by him should consider it an honor.
The corpses on either side were silent; there was only the sound of Brandon slurping and his teeth clinking against the iron spoon.
The corpses' eyes were open—terrified, hollow, their expressions frozen in the last moment before death.
Their eyeballs seemed to shift slightly to look at him, then seemed not to; perhaps it was an illusion caused by the changing light.
At some point, the cat's cries outside stopped, as did even the cat's heartbeat under Brandon's super-hearing.
He stopped chewing, the cereal slowly dissolving in his mouth. He frowned, sensing something; his eyes narrowed slightly, his pupils contracting like a wary Beast's.
He turned his head to look at the door that was slightly ajar.
Strangely, no light was shining in.
The door was open, so there should have been light, but there was only a thick darkness, like an invisible wall blocking the entrance.
Someone was outside?!
Brandon put down the iron spoon and stood up, the chair legs scraping harshly against the floor. He walked slowly toward the door.
He grabbed the edge of the door and pulled it open, his eyes widening suddenly.
A scent of smoke mixed with blood seemed to rush out from another World, hitting him full in the face.
The smell was pungently strong, like burnt meat and clotted blood.
The source of the smell was precisely the figure outside the door blocking the dawn. The figure was very, very tall—so tall it almost filled the entire doorway.
Broad shoulders, a black overcoat, and a crooked red tie fastened at the chest.
A cigarette glowed with sparks at the corner of his mouth; a single point of red light was exceptionally piercing in the darkness, like an eye scrutinizing him.
On his slightly hunched frame, cold eyes hung with threads of black lines, carrying a faint sense of death; he looked like a corporate slave who had been forced to come to work.
And in his hanging left hand, he held a black cat with its neck snapped, dripping with blood.
"Phew—"
Smoke drifted from the corner of Green's mouth as he tilted his head, glanced inside the house, and then withdrew his gaze to look at Brandon.
"Are you the one who wants to invade Earth? You little animal."
Chapter 104: A Love Letter to the Milky Way Galaxy
"You killed my cat!"
Brandon's eyelids drooped, obscuring most of his pupils. His gaze was filled with a ruthlessness far beyond his years.
Green didn't respond. He took a drag of his cigarette, the tobacco hissing as it burned. The firelight flickered for a moment, casting shifting shadows across his face.
Slap!
A palm descended!
The wind from the strike howled, sweeping up dust from the floor and dispersing the smoke between the two.
A crisp crack echoed through the small space, making the walls tremble slightly.
It was too fast—so fast that Brandon couldn't see it at all. Only an afterimage remained in his vision before that side of his face stung with burning pain, a clear palm print seared onto his left cheek.
His pupils shook violently as he turned back in disbelief to look at Green.
The man still stood there in the same posture, his expression unchanged, still looking down at him.
"Answer my question."
Brandon's face gradually twisted, his teeth clenched tight.
Shame scorched his inner pride. He was a warrior, a conqueror sent from his home Planet, a higher life form!
"You! This! Lowly..."
Slap!
This time it was the other side, with even more force. As this palm struck, the entire room felt as if it had been hit by a gust of strong wind.
Blood flew from the corner of Brandon's mouth and hit the floor, splashing into a small pool of deep red. His body stumbled, veering several steps to the side before he barely managed to stand steady.
A long ringing hummed in his ears, making his brain ache and his vision darken—a sensation he had never felt before.
He tilted his head, a red light glowing in his eyes.
The surrounding ground began to vibrate.
Wood chips on the floor, utensils on the table, and other small bits of debris were lifted by an eerie biological field.
The Water in the cup on the table also left the rim, condensing into droplets floating in the air. The television turned on automatically, the screen flickering a few times before jumping to a channel.
But the next moment.
Slap!
The red light was extinguished by the slap, along with the anomalies it had triggered.
Blood was slapped out of Brandon's mouth, nose, and ears. Broken teeth flew from his mouth, and his neck bone cracked with a loud snap from the blow. His eyes rolled back, his vision gradually sinking toward the floor.
But in mid-air, he was grabbed by the collar by a large hand and hoisted up, suspended in the air.
He could do nothing. He even projected himself onto his most admired figure, Homelander, fantasizing about defeating the person in front of him.
But in reality, he was powerless to break free. Fear involuntarily welled up inside him. In the end, his brain even fantasized about what would happen if his foster parents were there—they would surely protect him! They surely would!!
"I'm just a child... how can you treat me like this..."
For no reason, Brandon felt a sense of grievance, his eyes moistening. He struggled to open his swollen eyes to look at Green.
"Wait... wait..."
However, what greeted him was a palm accompanied by the sound of a sonic boom.
Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!
The room shook continuously with the sound of the slaps. The cracks in the already dilapidated wooden exterior walls grew larger and larger.
The corpses by the table were shaken until they slumped over, perhaps due to resonance, or perhaps because the wind from the palms was too strong.
Their bodies slumped haphazardly, but their heads were all turned toward the figure who was dealing the blows.
Morning light leaked in through the cracks in the broken walls. The rays were thin and weak, swaying with Green's movements.
When he raised his hand, the light was blocked; when it fell, the light shone through again onto their eyeballs.
Those eyeballs, originally hollow, deathly still, and frozen in the moment before death, seemed to regain a bit of the luster of the living amidst the flickering light and shadow.
Flicker.
Flicker.
As if they were watching something.
Not until Brandon had only one breath left did Green stop.
He hung limp in Green's hand, his head tilted to one side, his neck bone broken, his limbs hanging powerless and twitching occasionally.
Most of the skin on his face had been slapped to a pulp, hanging loosely off his shattered facial bones. In some places, the deformed muscle beneath was visible, gums exposed, and the bloody foam he spat out proved he was still alive.
"I say, why couldn't you just let those religious fanatics screw you to death? You just had to wait for me to come to your door."
He shoved the protruding eyeball back into Brandon's socket.
"Now, answer the question I asked at the beginning."
"Are you planning to invade Earth?"
Green leaned down, bringing his face close to that mangled one.
"Yes or no?"
"Ugh... cough cough..." A gurgling sound came from Brandon's throat.
"Y... Yes."
"Very good." Green smiled.
"Very good."
He casually took off his earpiece.
"Sir! The value of a living specimen to our—" Eve's urgent voice came through the earpiece.
Inside the mobile command vehicle.
"Fuck!"
Eve threw down the headset, which was emitting static, and crossed her arms, leaning back against the chair in a huff.
"Is he always this willful?" Magik sat to the side, eating chocolate beans, glancing at Wanda, who was looking down at her phone.
"He has his own rhythm. I have no comment on that."
Wanda didn't even look up, her finger sliding across the screen.
"Oh~"
Magik nodded, pinched another chocolate bean, and tossed it into her mouth.
At the entrance of the residence.
"Save... save me..." Brandon was in agony. He was very sleepy, and his vision was as blurry as if looking through dozens of layers of plastic wrap. Green was nothing more than a dark, massive silhouette in his eyes.
"I only asked you to admit it; I didn't say I'd let you go."
He pulled the Inverted Spear of Heaven from the mouth of the ugly treasure. The blade tilted, pressing against Brandon's forehead. With a slight push, a bloody gash appeared.
"Tell me, do you like being skinned?"
...
After Green gave the notice to wrap things up, a group of clean-up personnel emerged from the shadows of the surrounding woods.
They appeared from all directions, moving quickly and quietly, like a cluster of mushrooms growing out of the ground.
Not a few of them were carrying heavy weaponry.
Further away, about a hundred meters centered on the house, the crimson barrier quietly began to fade, like melting ice, its edges blurring and color thinning until it vanished into the air.
Simultaneously, the magical gravity Cursed Technique in mid-air also slowly dissipated. The complex runes flickered a few times and then went out, as if they had never existed.
Wanda and Magik were the outer second line of defense. Of course, Brandon hadn't even made it out the door before he died.
"The value of a living specimen is much higher than a dead one. I know saying it is useless, but it bothers me if I don't."
Eve stood with her hands on her hips, looking helplessly at Green, who was leaning against the skinned corpse.
He leaned against that skinned corpse, holding a camera high in one hand and the completely removed human skin in the other, aiming at the lens.
Click.
The flash went off.
Amidst a burst of white noise, a photo slowly slid out from the bottom of the camera.
He tore off the still-warm photo and held it up to his eyes.
"To me, a dead prey is a good prey."
[destiny value]: 54%
[slaughter value]: 43%
[Blood Hunt Value]: 69%
"Then we can only collect as much data as possible before the cell activity completely dies out."
Eve sighed and waved her hand behind her. Several personnel in hazmat suits immediately stepped forward and began to process the corpse.
"What's wrong?"
Green turned his head and looked at Wanda.
She stood there with her arms crossed, her face filled with a bit of resentment, as if she were looking at something heinous.
"I worked so hard to pick out this outfit."
She reached out a finger and tapped Green's clothes, which were stained with quite a bit of blood splatter.
"Uh." Green was speechless. How was he supposed to answer that?
"Mmm~ He's even more charming now."
Magik leaned against the dining table, tilting her head with a smile.
Green nodded in agreement.
"Sycophant!"
Wanda glanced at Magik in annoyance.
Magik didn't say anything; she just chuckled, staring straight at Wanda with a gaze that was both seductive and pure, contradictory yet harmonious, as if it could steal one's soul.
Instead, it was Wanda who didn't dare to look at her.
"Send this photo out."
Green handed the photo to Eve.
"To which newspaper?"
Eve took the photo without asking why.
"To the Universe." Green lit another cigarette and said calmly.
"?!"
Eve looked up, surprise flashing across her face, but it was quickly suppressed.
She regained her elegance, her lips curling into a faint smile.
"Ho-oh?" Her voice trailed off, filled with a bit of playfulness.
"The Dark Forest Law is a rule that every scientist silently observes. I don't need to explain the dangers of it to you, do I?"
"But this ungrateful wolf still found his way here, ever since he was spat out by his mother."
Green jerked his chin behind him.
Over there, several personnel in hazmat suits were sealing and packing Brandon's corpse, along with the dead cat.
And he didn't want to explain anything.
For example, a certain Great Love Purple Sweet Potato, a stallion living planet, the Celestials who use Planets as incubators...
This Planet's coordinates were already fucking transparent.
What storm is a house with only a foundation left afraid of?
"Scared?" Green turned his eyes to look at her.
"How could I be? I couldn't ask for more." Eve revealed her side as a mad scientist.
"I crave more experimental specimens."
"Drake's spaceship should be ready soon, right?"
Green thought of something and spoke.
"Mm-hmm."
Eve nodded.
"It's already entered the second stage of testing."
"Take part of the corpse up there."
"The brain, the skin, or... the little junk."
"You really are wicked, Boss."
Eve glanced at him with a strange expression.
"For the entire Milky Way Galaxy, this is a threat letter."
"What threat letter?"
Green exhaled a puff of smoke, which dispersed in the air.
"It's a love letter."
"Huh?!"
Eve was stunned.
The two girls nearby were also stunned, all three of them showing indescribable expressions on their faces.
"A love letter means 'come here and get fucked,' but I'll pull out something even bigger to beat them with."
"...That's a very blunt explanation." Eve composed herself for a few seconds before slowly speaking.
"That's it. We're done."
Green threw the cigarette butt on the ground, crushed it with his foot, and turned to leave.
Wanda and Magik exchanged a glance and quickly followed. The two girls' steps were light, their skirts fluttering gently in the morning breeze like two butterflies chasing the light.
Eve stared fixedly at his back, raising an eyebrow in appreciation.
"Mmm~ Truly unscrupulous. But, it doesn't feel bad."
Chapter 105: Carrie
Time shifted to evening.
The afterglow of the setting sun slanted through the kitchen window, dragging a long shadow across the faded floor.
"You don't have many strengths to begin with, so don't think too highly of yourself. You're just a brat; the only thing you have to offer is your maturing body."
Margaret stood behind Carrie, her rough fingers gripping the drawstring at the back of the skirt's waist. She pulled hard, the force so heavy that Carrie's waist tightened abruptly, her breath hitching for a moment.
Her voice was calm, but it held a meanness—the kind of deep-seated spite that could only be cultivated through years of accumulated resentment, seeping out from her very bones.
"Remember what I said: don't accept any man's invitation to spend the night at his house. All they want is to take your virginity. Don't drink the alcohol they give you; there might be something in it."
Carrie kept her head down, her long blonde hair falling forward to mask her face.
"Mom, tonight is my prom."
Her voice was very low, like she was talking to herself, carrying a hint of cautious anticipation and a trace of nervous dread of being rejected.
In America, prom is considered the most important event of one's youth.
This was likely the only moment of joy in her otherwise suffocating and oppressive life.
Moreover, there was actually a boy willing to take her.
"I know. I had one too, and mine was better than yours,"
Margaret muttered to herself, completely disregarding the dim look in her daughter's eyes.
Carrie instinctively looked away; she didn't want to talk about it anymore, nor did she want to listen.
She turned her head, her gaze landing outside the window, and then she froze.
Through the glass, she saw three people standing under a street sign across the road—two women and one man. They had a peculiar aura, like black crows bathed under luminous branches.
Despite standing in the warm tones of the sunset, they carried a dark, out-of-place hue.
A tall man stood in the middle, holding up two strawberry cotton candies to tease a girl in a red jacket beside him.
Next to the man stood another girl, about her own age. Her smiling eyes, which had been watching the scene, seemed to sense Carrie's gaze and looked over. She then playfully raised a hand and waved at her.
"Hi~" A voice rang out directly in Carrie's ear, magnetic and charming, as soft as a feather yet as clear as a whisper.
Carrie's pupils contracted slightly, and she instinctively shrugged her shoulders.
"Don't move around, the middle button is hard to fasten," Margaret's voice came from behind, laced with impatience.
Carrie opened her mouth, wanting to say something, wanting to tell her, but the words reached her lips and were swallowed back down.
She knew how Margaret would respond, so she simply stayed silent.
Carrie pursed her lips and turned back. When she looked out the window again, the three people were gone.
Curiosity naturally bloomed in her heart, but a convertible driving down the street washed away her doubts. The well-dressed youth in the car drew her focus.
"I have to go!"
Carrie said with some urgency, the nervousness of being late setting in.
"OK."
Margaret glanced outside, her lips twitching slightly.
"Have fun." She tied the last knot and let go.
"I will!" Carrie hurried toward the door and stopped in front of it, taking a deep breath.
She raised her hands to smooth non-existent wrinkles on her skirt, tucked stray hairs behind her ears, straightened her back, and tilted her chin up slightly.
Then she turned the doorknob, stepped out, and went to meet him.
Before she could react, she was scooped up by a pair of arms. Amidst a startled cry, she was lifted over the car door and dropped into the back seat.
The car started, the cool breeze blowing through her blonde hair as laughter and cheers blended together, fading into the distance.
She looked back at the house once. Behind the window, a blurry shadow stood motionless. Eventually, she turned back, lowering her eyes with a faint smile to enjoy the moment.
"Your invisibility magic still isn't skilled enough; that little Witch spotted me."
Magik spoke. A crimson film of light floated over the three of them, nearly invisible in the sunset; only an occasional distortion of light and shadow proved its existence.
"I've been looking at that 'Encyclopedia of Magic' you gave me for less than an hour, and you sound really old."
Wanda gave Green a frustrated kick. He was standing between the two of them, a cotton candy in each hand, happily munching away on both sides.
"But she still saw me," Magik shrugged.
"It's not entirely my fault. She has great natural talent herself. I can see the fluctuations of latent magic in her are very strong."
"So it is your fault."
"Your magic is just trash."
"The tutorial you gave me is the problem."
"It's your brain that's the problem."
The two women bickered with each other, while a certain Muggle calmly pulled out his phone to play a racing game.
He had sensed the massive Cursed Energy within that girl.
The Cursed Energy carried by these individual witches possessed extremely high purity. Especially during periods of emotional collapse (blackened state), the release of Cursed Energy showed a non-linear surge, almost like a cheat code.
If converted to standard human units, the Cursed Energyreserves in a single body were equivalent to the sum of thousands of people.
Meanwhile, Green's [True Tyrant of Heaven and Earth] template had entered a high-threshold evolution stage. Conventional methods of Cursed Energy intake were no longer sufficient to fill the remaining evolution requirements.
This Witch, as a high-concentration source of Cursed Energy, was perfect for helping him push the template toward final completion.
However, the timing for intervention wasn't ripe yet. When the convertible came to pick her up, those Cursed Energyfluctuations dropped again. That wouldn't do; Green needed her to break. Tonight... there might be a chance.
At that moment, the three of them sensed something almost simultaneously. Their eyes turned in the same direction, piercing through the fading twilight to look into the distance.
There, two presences were approaching and entering the town.
"There are two significant magic fluctuations. It seems some sharp-eyed people have discovered the dark movements here," Magik said.
"I just don't know what their purpose is."
Wanda also stopped bickering with Magik.
Crimson light emerged from her palm, spreading along her fingers to cover the light film surrounding the three of them. The color of that film deepened slightly, changing from transparent to a faint crimson, like a thin veil of gauze.
To the outside world, their figures seemed to merge with the light and dust, as if they didn't exist at all.
"Tsk." A flash of admiration crossed Magik's eyes.
So fast!
This invisibility magic technique had taken her a whole day just to reach the entry level. Those complex runes, precise circuits, and details requiring repeated tuning had taken her an entire night to barely master.
But excluding the time spent traveling and shopping, the actual time Wanda had spent practicing was likely less than a few minutes.
Now, she could not only maintain the technique but also actively strengthen it.
This damn rate of progress...
Magik felt a surge of envy and even a bit of self-deprecation.
But in truth, she didn't really need to be so envious.
Because this invisibility magic technique would drive any other Witch or mage crazy if they saw it.
If they heard Magik's inner thoughts, they would probably just self-destruct.
This wasn't a basic spell that simply hid one's form; it was high-level magic that erased one's very presence.
An average genius caster would be called a master if they could master and refine it in four or five years, let alone a day or a few minutes.
What the hell?
Isn't high-level magic measured in years?
"Whatever their purpose is, the final result will most likely clash with us."
Green was unaware of the girl's inner turmoil and hadn't even sensed any magic fluctuations.
He had simply "scented" the aura of prey.
Cursed Energy. Intuition. And aura.
Both of those presences were tainted with the scent of Hell. It was very faint—so faint it was almost undetectable—but it couldn't escape his nose.
Having fought one of the big bosses of Hell less than twenty-four hours ago, he was extremely sensitive to it.
"Do we need to scout them out?"
Magik looked at Green, her tone carrying a hint of eagerness.
"No need. We'll just wait at the finish line."
Green withdrew his gaze and brushed the sugar crumbs off his hands.
"Let's go. Let's get a hot dinner first."
"I think we had enough 'heat' last night," Wanda made a dark joke—a very dark one.
"Then I just hope our burgers tonight don't come with a 'poached' egg."
"I never said we were having burgers tonight. You're eating that with two beautiful ladies accompanying you?"
"I want a sturgeon burger, but it's your treat, Boss. I haven't received my salary yet."
"No way. I'll give you your salary later, and then you can treat me to dinner."
"Hmph, fine."
"Excuse me! Are you two even listening to me!"
The three figures drifted further away in the sunset's afterglow, finally disappearing around the street corner.