“I have the Heaven Root,” Alex sneered coldly, his eyes gleaming like shards of ice as he held Josephine protectively.
“If you dare risk your pathetic life for it, then come and claim it!”
Yorick’s eyes narrowed venomously. He could summon his soldiers to shoot Alex into oblivion–but the Heaven Root was far too precious.
A single stray bullet could shatter it.
“I’ll give you one chance,” orick growled, barely controlling his rage.
“Hand over the Heaven Root. Or we settle this the hard way.”
“Hard way?” Alex chuckled mockingly, confidence radiating from every word.
“My one leg alone would be enough to crush you. Step forward–if you dare.”
With Josephine tightly clasped to him, he knew he could shield her from any attack. Letting her go was not an option.
“Excellent!” Yorick barked, his voice dripping with sarcasm and fury.
“If you don’t value your pathetic existence, don’t blame me for your miserable fate. soldiers! Forget the guns–use knives! Sever the limbs of this insolent fool! I want his head displayed as my trophy!”
Several guards lunged forward eagerly, desperate to be the first to claim glory.
Alex merely stamped his foot, unleashing a deafening boom that cracked the ground apart. 1
Shattered stone erupted like a volcanic explosion, debris shooting in all directions, smashing into the guards with ruthless force.
Within mere seconds, guards screamed and collapsed, bleeding and broken.
“Go! All of you!” Yorick thundered furiously, his patience evaporating instantly.
“Kill him now! Shoot his face and legs–avoid his body! The Heaven Root must remain intact!”
Gunfire erupted like relentless thunder, bullets flying toward Alex with deadly precision.
Yet, an eerie silence suddenly swept the battlefield as every bullet stopped midair, frozen mere inches from Alex’s unyielding
presence.
“You started this,” Alex’s voice whispered menacingly.
With a simple flick, he turned their weapons against them.
Bullets burst backward, shredding soldiers like a hailstorm of metal, turning their bodies into blood–soaked pincushions.
Owen, desperately receiving medical aid, was struck violently, blood spurting as a bullet tore into his legs.
The medic beside him also got shoot on his arms.
All around, Dupont’s elite soldiers collapsed, screaming and bleeding.
Alex stood untouched amidst the chaos, an unstoppable force, a deity of wrath and vengeance.
“Who… who the hell are you?!” Yorick stammered, drenched in cold sweat, his bravado shattered by fear.
He had never encountered such terrifying might.
The once grand Skyview Hotel courtyard was now filled with the moans and cries of injured men, and Alex stood at the center, radiating a terrifying aura of invincibility.
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Onlookers from hotel windows gazed down in horror, their eyes wile, transfixed by this impossible spectacle.
“This… this can’t be real!” someone mitmured in disbelief.
“Is he some kind of monster?”
“He’s beyond human!” others whispered fearfully.
Alex gazed coldly at Yorick, his voice chillingly calm yet saturated with mockery.
“The Dupont special forces seem rather pathetic, don’t they?”
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Yorick gritted his teeth, stripping off his bulletproof vest and discarding his weapons, revealing a powerful, muscular physique beneath.
But then, unexpectedly, he sank to his knees, forehead slamming Heavily into the shattered concrete.
“Please spare us!” Yorick begged desperately, blood already streaming down his forehead.
“I swear, I’ll abandon Dupont, I’ll leave soldiering behind–I’ll take my family far away, live peacefully as a farmer. I beg you- have mercy on me and my men!”
Around him, the remaining soldiers, stunned by their leader’s surrender, quickly followed–dropping their weapons, falling to their knees, trembling as they pleaded for mercy.
‘Please, spare us! I have a mother waiting for me!” one cried.
“My baby is waiting at home–I just want to live!” another sobbed.
Alex stared contemptuously at the pitiful display.
“I never sought your lives. It was you who pursued death by coming here.”
Yorick slammed his bleeding head repeatedly against the floor, his voice breaking with desperation.
“I have a five–year–old daughter—please!”
Alex sighed deeply, a moment of humanity breaking through his hardened demeanor.
“Very well, I will spare your miserable lives–but you must do something for me.”
“Anything!” Yorick immediately responded, trembling.
Alex’s eyes hardened dangerously, pointing sharply at Owen’s broken body. “Keep that man alive. Can you manage that?”
“We have excellent medics! We will keep him alive,” Yorick promised fervently.
“Good,” Alex replied coldly. Without hesitation, he brutally shattered Owen’s remaining limbs, eliciting agonized screams.
“Keep him alive–I want him to experience true hell,” Alex ordered icily.
“Yes, sir!” Yorick responded frantically, shaking from head to toe inwardly cursing Owen’s foolishness for provoking such an unstoppable force.
“If he dies, I’ll hunt you down personally,” Alex warned chillingly before leaping effortlessly into the sky with Josephine safely cradled in his arms.
Left behind, Yorick and his surviving soldiers sagged in relief, trembling from the horror they had narrowly survived. Yorick urgently shouted commands.
“Quickly! Save this bastard! Do whatever it takes–he cannot die!‘
The surviving medics scrambled desperately, fully aware of the horror awaiting them should they fail.
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Owen’s shattered limbs would need immediate, brutal amputation but at least he still had his lives. And for now, that was enough.
+25 BONUS
At the dead of night, in the Jed Whitman mansion.
Jed Whitman was the second son of Duke Whitman, the Governor of Texas, and the father of Owen.
He was still fooling around with his mistress when, suddenly, a voice called out.
“Did you enjoy doing all the bad stuff while letting your son go crazy?”
“Fuck,” Jed yelled, his penis still inside his mistress when a man appeared right besid
He reached fast for the gun by his side. “Who the fuck are you?”
But the gun changed hands before he could blink.
“You let your son do bad things, and you swept a mountain of dirt under the carpet. That dirt could bury at least fifty deaths your son caused. And still, you kept protecting him.”
“That’s my problem,” Jed said sharply.
“Yes,” the man replied. “It is your problem how you raised your son. But since your son grew up to be a killer, your karma comes for you. You never taught him right.”
“Who the hell are you?”
The man placed the gun against Jed’s head.
“I’m the karma taker. For every soul your son murdered and you covered up… your time’s run out.‘
“Stop it!” Jed yelled. “My father is the Governor!”
“Great,” the man said. “My father is King.”
The gun fired without mercy.
Jed’s face froze in disbelief.
–
He still had a future a big one.
But now, it was all gone.
“You,” the man said to the screaming mistress, “tell everyone: Owen must not be killed. He must survive – barely. But anyone who helps him live better than that… will die.”
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