Bloodstar System: Infinite Evolution Through Beast Slaughter

Chapter 9: Get Out!

That gaze carried a chill that treated all living things as beneath notice.

Dace’s heart clenched.

What am I afraid of?

I am already Greater Mortal.

"Who are you trying to scare?"

Dace forced himself to stop looking at the corpses covering the floor.

In his mind, this had to be the work of the foreman at Beastworks.

As for Joren?

He was just borrowing someone else’s authority, standing there with a knife to put on a show.

"You killed all these beasts?"

Dace kicked the head of a Brutebull beside him, his tone mocking.

"With that pitiful bit of Vital Force you have, I doubt you could even cut through the hide."

The two lackeys came back to themselves and laughed along with him.

"Who are you trying to scare with that knife? You really think you are an Awakened Warrior now?"

Joren did not bother with the flies buzzing in front of him.

He took his time wiping the blood from the blade, treating all three of them as if they were not there.

That disregard struck Dace like a slap.

Back at school, when had this kid ever dared keep his head up in front of him?

Now that he had been expelled, he had grown a spine instead?

"I am talking to you!"

Dace’s face sank. He crossed the blood on the ground in a few strides and stopped in front of Joren.

The Vital Force of a Greater Mortal surged out from him without restraint, pressing into the air.

Dace stretched out one hand and opened his palm in front of Joren.

His gaze was high above, as if he were granting charity.

"The transfer agreement for the preferential quota. Hand it over. I can let the past go."

"I can even put in a word with Hector Tyren and let you return to school."

Joren’s hand stopped moving.

He slowly lifted his eyes and looked at that well cared for palm.

The corner of his mouth rose a little.

"And if I do not?"

The corner of Dace’s eye twitched.

"You really think I cannot deal with you outside the school? Today I will show you what a Greater Mortal can do."

Brann, standing in the corner, had quite the look on his face.

He understood now.

This Dace was probably some spoiled bastard from a wealthy family.

Joren’s expulsion was likely connected to him as well.

Greater Mortal?

That was strong.

For an ordinary high school student, it really was someone to look up to.

But was this kid blind?

Could he not see the broken flesh all over the floor?

Those were real Brutebulls.

And he was actually provoking a killing machine who had already gone red eyed from slaughter?

Brann shook his head, dropped his cigarette butt, and crushed it under his boot.

In his heart, he lit a candle for this rich young master who had no idea how high the sky was.

There were easier ways to die.

When Dace saw Joren stay silent, he thought Joren had been frightened by his aura.

His confidence swelled even further.

"Scared?"

"Too late."

Dace shouted and slammed his foot against the ground.

Several cracks spread across the concrete.

Using that force, he shot forward. His right fist clenched tight and tore through the air as it smashed straight toward Joren’s face.

This punch used all his strength.

He held nothing back.

He meant to cripple Joren.

The fist wind was sharp enough to stir the loose hair over Joren’s forehead.

Facing that heavy punch, Joren did not even lift his eyelids.

In his eyes, Dace was not as threatening as the Brutebulls from a moment ago.

At least those beasts had truly been fighting with their lives.

Just as the fist was about to reach the tip of his nose, Joren raised his left hand and opened his fingers.

Smack.

A crisp, heavy sound echoed through the empty slaughterhouse.

Dace’s punch, powerful enough to crack stone, was caught as if it were nothing.

That slender, pale hand stood in his path like an uncrossable ravine.

The air went still.

The vicious grins on the two lackeys’ faces froze. Their mouths remained wide open, but no sound came out.

Dace’s pupils shrank hard.

How is this possible?

With that punch, even a steel plate should have been dented.

How could this trash catch it?

"This is what you were relying on?"

Joren spoke lightly.

His calm voice made the chest tighten.

He looked at Dace’s face, now drained of confidence, and a cold curve touched his lips.

"Greater Mortal?"

"Nothing much."

The words fell.

Joren’s five fingers closed.

Crack.

The sound of bones breaking was clear and sharp.

"Ahhh!"

A miserable scream tore through the slaughterhouse.

Dace’s entire face twisted from the pain. Cold sweat poured out of him like water.

Joren had crushed the bones in his hand by force.

The pain stripped away his ability to resist. His legs went soft beneath him.

Thud.

Dace dropped to his knees in front of Joren.

His knees struck the ground hard, landing in a mix of blood and dirty water. The clean fabric of his school pants soaked through at once.

The high and mighty Dace now looked like a wild dog with its spine broken.

"Let go... let go!"

"My hand! It is broken! Broken!"

Snot and tears ran down his face. Not a trace of his earlier arrogance remained.

Joren’s face showed nothing. With a light turn of his right wrist, he brought up the slaughtering blade, still dripping blood.

The cold flat of the blade slapped against Dace’s face.

Smack.

Smack.

Two ringing slaps.

Both from the flat of the blade.

Dace’s cheeks swelled high at once. Several teeth flew out with blood and spit.

"What was it you said just now?"

Joren looked down at him.

"That you would make me spend my life in bed?"

Dace’s head buzzed. His cheeks burned from the humiliation left by the blade.

But compared to the pain in his face, the agony from his shattered hand nearly stopped his breath.

He knelt in the blood, his whole body twitching beyond his control.

Why?

He was Greater Mortal.

Though he had not entered the ranked stages yet, he had been able to walk sideways through school.

How could he fail to take even one move from Joren?

He had not even seen clearly what happened, and his hand was already ruined.

Dace forced his head up with difficulty.

His gaze passed Joren’s shoes, stained with blood, and moved farther back.

Behind him, the mountain of Brutebull corpses was impossible to ignore.

A moment ago, Dace had mocked Joren for putting on a show, for borrowing another person’s strength.

But now, after seeing how easily Joren crushed him, a terrifying thought crawled into his mind.

Could it be...

Did he really kill all these beasts himself?

Fear surged over him like a tide, drowning every bit of pride and arrogance he had left.

"Dace!"

"Shit! Let go of Dace!"

Only then did the two lackeys wake from their daze.

Their scalps were numb with fear, but their usual habit of throwing their weight around still pushed them into action.

They drew weapons from their waists and shouted as they rushed forward.

"Kid, you are asking to die!"

"I will kill you!"

They were betting that Joren would not really dare kill a person.

Joren did not even turn his head.

He only shifted his gaze slightly, sweeping the corner of his eye over them.

There was no emotion in that look.

No anger.

No killing intent.

He did not even seem to see them as living things.

Only disregard.

The two lackeys felt a cold wave sweep through their bodies.

It was as if a bloodthirsty beast had locked its teeth on their throats.

Their steps froze in midair.

The feeling was too terrifying.

If they dared take one more step, they would die.

They would definitely die.

Clang.

One of them trembled, and the weapon slipped from his hand onto the floor.

A foul smell soon spread through the air.

With just one look, the two thugs who usually bullied everyone around them were scared into wetting themselves on the spot.