The Villain's RE:Life

Chapter 126: What are you? A Chihuahua?
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Tilting my head to the side with apparent curiosity, I stood above the young man calling himself Overwatch High, who was frozen in place due to the effect of my talent.

"Ho hum, such a weak mind, easy to control…easy to break," speaking with a chipper tone, I slowly lifted my leg, then…

SNAP

I slammed my foot down directly on the poor Ranker’s kneecap, instantly popping it like a grape and shattering the nearby bones.

The sudden action was enough to cause Overwatch High’s eyes to burst out in tears, as a distinct acrid smell, apart from Body odor, wafted up to my nose from below, causing a frown to creep onto my mask-hidden lips.

"Oh…did the poor little groupie piss himself? What are you, a chihuahua, leaking out some dribble at the first sign of danger? How disappointing." Stepping up onto Overwatch High’s shattered leg, I walked across his body, causing damage as I went.

Wearing a smile under my mask, I began by crushing his testicles with the heel of my shoe, popping a certain fleshy appendage, stomping on his abdomen, and forcing a mouthful of bile and blood to erupt out his mouth until I finally stood above his chest.

This chapter is updat𝓮d by freēwebnovel.com.

Glancing down on the poor sap from above, I let out a tired sigh while examining the bodily fluids leaking from his eyes, nose, and mouth and watched him tremble in agony and fright.

With a simple look in his eyes before ever using my talent, I quickly realized he had already understood I wasn’t one of the so-called "Good Guys." I mean, what kind of hero goes around wearing the mask of a slasher movie killer?

It really didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out I wasn’t up on this roof to play ring around the Rosie, well…I mean, I was still here to have fun; it’s just my kind of fun, which is pretty much frowned upon by most people.

Keeping eye contact with the fool since my Psy-Kinesis was still active, I infused my words with particles and spoke.

"Now then, how’s about you ’go ahead and clean up the space beside you, then dump your inventory. You will not speak unless I tell you to, and you will go back to being frozen after emptying all your worldly possessions on the ground.’"

The command was utterly massive, but since I had more than enough PC to compensate for the 39-word command, I wasn’t too worried, especially after noticing this guy’s Intellect stat was hot garbage.

Upon hearing what I said, Overwatch High’s body convulsed for a mere second before robotically and methodically following what I had told him to.

In the meantime, I went ahead and used Telepathy to scan through his thoughts and memories. Unfortunately, since there was a limit to how much my brain could handle and how deep my skill allowed me to dive into his consciousness at its current attainment, the best I could get was the last 6 or 7 months.

As per my usual methods, I didn’t bother actually digesting the memories and thoughts and instead did what I had become accustomed to, tossing them into my Imaginary library in a separate space for later consumption.

By the time I finished my extraction, a messy pile of items, potions, clothes, and the like covered a decent chunk of the building’s rooftop, and I couldn’t help but whistle in appreciation.

Although Overwatch High was nowhere near as rich as those four dipshits in the Caverns, he still had pretty deep pockets…which was enough to trigger my loot goblin tendencies.

Waving my hand in the air and feeling I had extracted all the items and knowledge I could from Overwatch High, I flicked my wrist downward, sending my dagger straight through his eye, piercing his brain and killing him instantly.

"Sigh, if I had the time, I would torture him some, but there is basically no point in doing so, not with my memory extraction working at full strength," I muttered under my breath while walking back over to the fire escape I’d arrived on, leaving the teenage corpse out in the open without a care in the world.

Without satellites or even basic CCTV covering every square inch of the town like in the future, I wasn’t worried about leaving enough evidence for law enforcement to hunt me down, mainly because who would ever expect a five-year-old to enact a heinous crime such as murder out in the open?

Sure, there was an argument that one of the returners may have some form of tracking skill that could locate me, given enough power and time, yet even that didn’t bother me much as if push came to shove, my stats alone were enough to deal with any Ranker showing up on my doorstep.

As it stands, unless the said metaphorical Ranker was chilling at High-Alpha, I doubt there was a single human Returner whom I couldn’t find a way to beat in a no-holds-barred fight.

The only exception would be some of the Myriad Races, whose natural physique gave them higher stats than humans. Then there were the long-lived races, such as Vampires or Elves, who seemed to all have astronomically high Intelligence stats, effectively rendering my talent useless against them.

Thinking back to a time when I encountered a certain vampy chick, I felt a shiver run through my entire body. Calling her a stalker was generous…I just hoped that she wasn’t one of the people who came back to the past because she was utterly batshit crazy.

Remembering more than one occasion where she treated me like a mouse to her being a cat, I could feel my eye twitch, and an uncomfortable sensation ran through my body.

In fact, I specifically wanted to avoid ever coming in contact with her, and considering by the time I met the slut she claimed to be over 1200 years old, I knew that she hadn’t changed much with the Descent of Arkadia.

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