*SPURT—! *
A fountain of sickly green, viscous blood erupted from the pile of rubble.
Bug God heaved, crushing the massive boulder that pinned his body, and dragged himself from the ruins. He was a disaster. The carapace he had so prided himself on was virtually shattered across his entire form, exposing the dark green organic tissue beneath. He looked like a defeated general dragged through the mud.
Yet his aura did not diminish. If anything, it grew more feral, more dangerous. New muscles and carapace fragments were already knitting themselves rapidly across his wounds.
"Cough… cough… You're good. Very good." He wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, his voice thick with renewed vigor. His broken body seemed to burn—fueled by mounting rage and unquenchable fighting spirit. "But it ends here."
"Oh? Finally going to show me your real capabilities?"
Jack's fists ignited with searing flame—the same source as his Scorching Heat Bullet—instantly vaporizing the green blood staining his knuckles. He stood unhurried, making no move to pursue or interrupt. Instead, he crossed his arms, watching with undisguised interest.
"You're about to activate your second form, aren't you? Go ahead, senior. Begin your performance."
Bug God: …
For reasons he couldn't articulate, a jolt of unease—sharp as an electric current—shot through his nervous system. As if something truly terrifying was about to unfold. But his absolute confidence in his own power drowned the premonition instantly.
His legs slammed apart, planting into a rooted stance. The muscles of his arms corded and bulged, veins writhing like coiled dragons beneath the surface, as if he were about to undergo some grotesque parody of a Super Saiyan transformation.
"You guessed it, then…" Bug God's grin widened into something demonic, a howl tearing from his throat. "Then let me show you my complete form, kid!"
*BOOM—! *
A massive burst of air pressure erupted outward. The shattered green carapace actively disintegrated, crumbling and peeling away like a cicada shedding its skin.
Bug God's already imposing body swelled further, expanding within a cocoon of green light. Muscle fibers writhed and proliferated wildly. Bones popped and crackled under the strain of forced growth, his frame surging past Jack's height in seconds.
Multiple pairs of thin, cicada-like wings burst from his back, vibrating at impossible speed, filling the air with a droning hum.
Spikes—gleaming with metallic cold light—punched through the newly formed carapace across his entire body. His massive form transformed further, becoming a living war machine, ferocious and deadly.
Four additional arms, coated in grotesque new carapace, ripped through the skin beneath his original arms and from his rear shoulders. They trailed foul-smelling, viscous strings of organic fluid that quickly hardened on contact with air, completing the nightmare.
Second Stage Transformation — Molting Release.
[Monster: Bug God]
[Disaster Level: Demon-level (Peak)
]**
"Excellent. Excellent!"
The crushing aura of a peak Demon-level Monster saturated every corner of the nest—pressure sufficient to kill Wolf-level Monsters outright. And cutting through it came the sound of slow, deliberate clapping, followed by Jack's indifferent commentary.
"As expected of a senior. You've effortlessly unleashed an aura infinitely close to Dragon-level."
Bug God: …
He flexed, savoring the explosive power flooding his transformed body. All five of his eyes—made even more grotesque by the molt—locked onto Jack with lethal focus. He issued his final ultimatum.
"Kid. I'll admit—you're a rare genius among our Insect Monster kind."
His six fists clenched simultaneously, producing a dense crackling like frying beans. He attempted to crush the opponent with aura alone.
"But in this state… I am invincible! This body—from head to toe, every inch—is a killing machine, born for slaughter! In the coming battle, I cannot guarantee I'll leave you a complete corpse. Kneel now, beg for mercy… and there may still be time!"
"Wait."
Jack's expression shifted to something unreadable as he regarded Bug God's swollen form. His tone was strange.
"Did you just say… 'I am invincible'?"
As everyone knows—in the transmigrator's original world, at least—invincible was a loaded term. A derogatory one, even.
Bug God's fierce aura faltered. He tilted his head, confusion flickering across his monstrous features.
"…What do you mean?"
"Nothing."
Making a meme reference that the locals couldn't appreciate—the eternal curse of the transmigrator. Jack laced his fingers together and stretched his arms upward, a cascade of pops echoing from his joints.
The strange new power slumbering within his body stirred. Awoke. And from the depths of his being, a low, terrible roar of life answered.
Countless microscopic selves surged in agitation at every cellular level.
Craving division.
Craving release.
"Although… you probably won't get to see my complete form."
As Jack spoke, the pitch-black Spike Armor covering his body rippled like water—as if the substance beneath was undergoing a violent metamorphosis.
"But it's rude not to return a courtesy. Out of respect for your courage, senior… I'll just have to get rid of you seriously."
"WHAT DID YOU SAY—!?"
Bug God bit off each word separately. All six arms bulged with engorged veins. His body expanded another full circle as muscles swelled beyond previous limits. A terrifying aura—enough to make the rubble at his feet tremble—rose and surged like an erupting volcano.
But before his rage could fully brew, his five eyes witnessed a scene that would sear itself into his memory forever.
Jack's body twisted. A grinding creak echoed through the nest. And then—
It split.
Right before Bug God's eyes, as if cellular control had been utterly abandoned, the Insect Monster junior divided into two identical pitch-black figures.
This was not the end. It was merely the beginning.
Two became four. Four became eight. Eight became sixteen.
Thirty-two. Sixty-four. One hundred twenty-eight—
Every divided individual carried a form identical to the original. And every single one radiated a genuine, undiluted Demon-level aura.
The speed of division overloaded Bug God's cognitive processing. Every corner of his vision filled, and kept filling, with proliferating pitch-black grotesque figures.
One man. An army.
By the time the nest was packed—crammed to bursting with over a hundred identical Jacks—Bug God finally snapped from his stupor. A single image flashed through his mind: a crude, simple-looking character, comical in design. His voice cracked as he cried out.
"W-What the hell!? Isn't that Executive Black Sperm's signature ability?! How could you—?!"
Over a hundred Jacks moved as one. Necks cracked. Spiked knuckles popped. A unified, uniform sound—enough to curdle blood—filled the space.
Their combined Demon-level aura converged into a suffocating pressure, a tangible tsunami that instantly crushed and submerged Bug God's defiance.
"Huh. I'm splitting. This is… exciting?" One clone examined his new hands with interest.
"Stop messing around. Business first." Another clone frowned, scolding.
"Tch. What a hassle. Why not just swarm him and finish it? You just had to drag me out here for a show, you exhibitionist."
"What do you know? We built up the atmosphere. If we don't deliver now, this old bastard will think we've got no moves. Right, fellas? No problem!"
"Shut up! Screw you all! I'm going first—nobody steal my kill!"
"Everyone quiet! Listen to my command! Prepare for action! First—full-range, no-dead-angle, saturated volley of Scorching Heat Bullet!"
"Who died and made you boss? I'm the perfect embodiment of self-will!"
"…"
Jack Prime: …
Indeed. Every individual had its own self. When the numbers got high, internal communication costs skyrocketed. They might even start infighting before engaging the enemy.
But despite the bickering, Bug God's expression remained deathly serious. A single bead of cold sweat, the size of a bean, rolled slowly down his grotesque forehead.
As the number one Demon-level combatant of the Monster Association, he understood exactly how terrifying—how unreasonable—the strength of those monstrous executives truly was.
He didn't know how this kid had stolen Black Sperm's technique. But if these hundreds of pitch-black figures, each radiating undiminished Demon-level auras, weren't illusions…
Gulp.
The moment doubt entered his heart, the battle's outcome was already sealed.
Bug God swallowed with difficulty. He attempted to salvage.
"Uh…"
His voice came out dry.
"I think… there might be some misunderstanding between us…?"
"Heh heh. Too late, old man."
Over a hundred Jacks spoke as one. Their overlapping voices carried cold, mocking authority.
"I still liked your arrogant look from the beginning. Can you go back to that?"
Bug God: …
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