The days ahead were filled with more and more murder. My killing had become so frequent that many underground operations simply stopped—either due to the depletion of manpower or because they'd finally wised up. They knew that spreading their forces too thin would mean certain death. I could already sense that some of the larger operations would be fortified, guarded by an army.
But that no longer concerned me.
What truly captivated me was the Life Crystal—the culmination of my efforts. The moment I fused four shards, the event was nothing short of miraculous. A dazzling crimson light flooded my hidden room, illuminating every corner, casting eerie shadows against the walls. The air itself seemed to change, thick with vitality, almost tangible. Every breath within range of the Life Crystal surged through my body, more invigorating than any healing potion I had ever consumed.
I was no longer just enthralled by it—I was obsessed. No, addicted. Subconsciously, I began to absorb the vitality radiating from the crystal, and it was beyond euphoric. It felt like the very essence of life itself was pouring into me, filling every part of my being with unimaginable power. It was as if the universe had shown me a glimpse of transcendence—an awakening far beyond the confines of my mortal body. I felt above the world, like I had finally broken free of the shell that had bound me.
The sensation of absorbing that energy was indescribable. My muscles—already strong—became denser, more compact, like the fibers of metal weaving themselves into my flesh. I could feel every sinew vibrating with newfound strength, every movement carrying a weight of power I had never experienced before. A simple flex of my arm sent ripples through my skin, as if the raw energy beneath was yearning to be unleashed. I could sense that my strength had at least doubled, if not more. My fists felt like hammers, my legs like pistons, coiled and ready to unleash devastating force.
But the changes went deeper. My bones, once fragile in comparison, had transformed. They felt like they were reinforced with steel—unyielding and indestructible. When I tested my strength by kicking a tree, I didn't feel pain or resistance. Instead, the tree groaned under the impact, a sizable dent forming in its trunk, almost as if it had been struck by an axe. My body no longer feared injury; it was built to endure, to resist, to conquer.
The transformation wasn't just physical—it was internal. My nervous system was humming with life, my reflexes sharpened to inhuman levels. It was as if my body could process information at lightning speed, reacting faster than I could consciously think. I could hear the faintest of sounds, the rustling of leaves, the distant hum of machinery. My sight sharpened, every detail coming into focus with crystal clarity, even in low light. It was as if the world had slowed down around me, and I could see everything in perfect detail.
My cognitive abilities had been heightened beyond belief. Thoughts flowed effortlessly, my mind processing complex problems and strategies with an ease that I had never known. My brain seemed to be working in overdrive, with memory and reasoning enhanced to the point where I could recall the minutest details of past events with precision. I could calculate trajectories, angles, and probabilities instantly, almost without thinking. It felt like I had gained a higher understanding of the world around me—like my mind had broken through to a new level of consciousness.
My stamina had been supercharged as well. Before, I would've tired after prolonged battles, but now, I could feel endless reserves of energy coursing through me. My lungs expanded effortlessly, each breath supplying my body with boundless vitality. My heart pumped with the strength of a beast, ensuring that my muscles and organs were constantly flooded with oxygen-rich blood. Fatigue no longer had meaning; I could fight, run, and move for hours without slowing down. My body was an engine, fueled by the limitless energy of the Life Crystal.
Even the smallest systems in my body were enhanced. My immune system, once vulnerable to sickness and weakness, now felt impenetrable. I could sense that infections, diseases—things that once posed a threat to human life—were now irrelevant to me. My body would heal faster than ever before, wounds closing in moments where it would've taken days. My skin, though still flexible, was toughened, more resistant to cuts and bruises. I had become, in essence, a living fortress—impenetrable from within and without.
And through it all, the sensation of the Life Crystal's energy flowing through me was intoxicating. It wasn't just a feeling of power—it was a rush of life, of existence itself. Every cell in my body was alive in a way I had never known. It was as if I had been born again, but this time, as something far beyond human. My body didn't just function—it thrived. It danced with the very essence of life, every part of me eagerly absorbing the vitality like a starving animal devouring its prey.
I was no longer just human. I had transcended into something greater—something truly superhuman.
Once the transformation was complete, I sprinted to the nearest secluded area, eager to test my newfound capabilities. The first thing to assess was my speed, since I traveled mostly on foot. Without the aid of the Hermes Boots, I could already run faster than the fastest man alive—twice as fast as Usain Bolt. But it wasn't just about top speed; my acceleration was even more remarkable. My legs, now empowered with incredible strength, cut through air resistance with ease, propelling me forward like a bullet.
What struck me most was how effortlessly I maintained that peak speed. My lungs expanded with more capacity than ever before, allowing me to run without gasping for air. My recovery was near-instantaneous, with each breath filling me with renewed energy. I didn't just move faster; I moved better. The more I ran, the more apparent it became that my body hadn't simply improved—it had transformed. It was more flexible, more efficient, more robust. Every movement was a testament to this new form, like a perfectly crafted machine designed to serve as the ideal vessel for the Terrarian Mind.
The true test of my agility came as I transitioned to parkouring across the city rooftops. As I leaped from one building to another, the strength in my legs sent me soaring with ease. My jumps were flawless—no wasted energy, no awkwardness. Each landing was smooth, absorbing the impact perfectly, leaving behind the rough, jarring landings of the past.
Even more impressive was my control in mid-air. Flips, rotations, and maneuvers that would have once required intense concentration now felt like second nature. I twisted and turned effortlessly, my body responding instantly to the commands of my mind. The bond between my mind and body was seamless, as though they were a single, unified entity. There was no delay, no hesitation—only perfect synchronization.
As I traveled from rooftop to rooftop, the sensation was intoxicating. The wind rushed past me, but I barely felt it. My body adapted to each new movement, adjusting fluidly to every leap, twist, and landing. I wasn't just running—I was gliding across the city, each step calculated, each jump measured with precision.
It was short-live, since with how fast I was travel it didn't take long to arrive at my destination. I was not disappointed, since now it is time to test out my might. Immediately, I punch a tree leaving a sizable dent to it. Considering the healthiness of the wood, and it being oak. Leaving a fist size dent like that is impossible with just one punch from a normal person.
Obviously, one punch wasn't enough to gauge my overall offensive prowess. I began beating the tree, determined to knock it down.
Loud bangs echoed across the forest, scaring off the birds. My pummeling grew more aggressive with each punch, the once-solid oak now looking like it had been relentlessly shot by rifles—not something a human could have done.
Yet, the mighty oak still stood tall. No matter how hard I hit it, it resisted, the bark toughening against my increasing force. I felt the growing difficulty in damaging it, and my knuckles became bruised with each successive strike, but I didn't stop. The challenge fueled me, pushing me further. My fists soon turned bloodied, with bits of bone starting to show through the torn skin.
Pain wracked my body, each punch sending sharp signals through my system, urging me to stop. Yet, I pressed on, driven by the need to test my body to its absolute limits. I wasn't just testing my strength—I was pushing every system in my body to see how far it could go.
The first system that rose to the challenge was my nervous system, now enhanced to withstand over-stimulation. It adapted to the immense pain coursing through me, dulling the intensity enough to allow me to continue functioning. Instead of overwhelming me, the pain became just another factor, something I could register but not succumb to.
My endocrine system surged with adrenaline and endorphins, numbing the pain and keeping me focused. This natural flood of hormones helped reduce my body's natural aversion to pain, ensuring I didn't pass out or lose my focus in the heat of the moment. The cardiovascular system worked in perfect tandem, supplying my body with increased oxygen and blood flow, preventing fatigue from setting in and allowing my muscles to keep firing despite the injury.
My immune system also played its part. With the Life Crystal's vitality surging through me, my body quickly worked to mitigate the damage. Blood clotted faster, and my cells repaired themselves at an accelerated rate, keeping the damage from escalating too quickly.
The strength of my musculoskeletal system added to my endurance. My bones and tendons, reinforced by the transformation, absorbed the force of my punches, preventing fractures even as my skin and knuckles wore down. My muscles remained powerful, delivering strike after strike with an intensity that continued to grow.
Pain was everywhere, a constant presence gnawing at my body, but it didn't paralyze me. My enhanced systems kept me in control, allowing me to continue even with the brutal physical toll.
As time passed from day to night, the mighty oak finally fell—and so did I. It had taken a full day of relentless effort and self-mutilation to bring it down with nothing but my bare fists. Exhausted and in immense pain, I used every last ounce of willpower to raise the healing potion to my lips. The liquid worked quickly, knitting my wounds and restoring me to my prime, both mind and body.
Even fully recovered, I sat down for a moment, allowing myself a rare pause. I gazed at the fallen tree, appreciating the achievement—a testament to my will and strength. It wasn't just a display of raw power, but of unyielding endurance.
"Testing is done. Time to hunt." I murmured to myself, the familiar fire reigniting within. With that, I strapped on my Hermes Boots. As I took off, my speed doubled in an instant, my legs pumping as I tore through the forest, reaching a near-blinding velocity of 200 km/h. The trees blurred around me, the wind rushing past in a howl as I left everything behind.
No longer do I need to worry about being noticed in the deep night while parkouring across rooftops. Unless someone had the Sharingan or possessed superhuman vision or reaction speed, ordinary people would only see a blur passing by.
Traveling at the speed of a race car, I reached the illegal arms deal in an instant. What awaited me was an entire army of gunmen and ninjas. At least six ninjas were lurking in the vicinity, scouting the area and watching for any anomalies—a strategy likely adopted after realizing my method of infiltration.
As for the gunmen, they were packed densely, stationed all around the trading zone, protecting the deal and serving as a deterrent for the clients of The Hand. The entire place was sealed off tightly, making stealth nearly impossible.
In the past, such a setup would have posed a serious challenge. But now, after consuming the Life Crystal, things had changed. With my newfound speed and power, taking them all down—while still challenging—was entirely within my reach. At my current velocity, tracking my movements was nearly impossible with the naked eye. My enhanced reflexes and Terrarian Mind allowed me to anticipate bullet trajectories easily.
The only scenario in which I might get hit was if the area became too crowded with a barrage of bullets. That could happen when I was at a distance, where the gunmen had the freedom to fire without caution. But once I closed in, they'd lose the ability to shoot freely—no one wanted to risk accidentally killing their own teammates.
To take away their advantage, I would simply make a mad dash straight into their ranks. The boldness of such a move would catch them off guard, preventing most of the soldiers from even drawing their weapons. The few who were quick to react, those with real experience, would manage to fire, but I was confident I could dodge most of their bullets. Some might penetrate my armor and wound me, but a little damage wouldn't hinder my performance.
Even in the unlikely event of taking serious damage, a healing potion would quickly restore me, removing any doubt about my safety. Once I got close enough, these gunmen would be nothing more than sheep waiting for the slaughter.
Feeling confident in my plan, I launched myself forward, axe in hand, charging directly at the enemy. The suddenness of my assault startled the ninja scouts, but they were too slow to react, let alone sound the alarm. By the time the signal went off, I was already looming over my first target.
The gunman stood at the entrance to the trading zone, his attention focused outward to spot any intruders. His job was simple: ensure that no one with an ulterior motive entered or left the area alive. Unfortunately for him, his focus on the external threat cost him dearly. With a single overhead swing, my axe cleaved through his skull with brutal precision. His head split open like dry wood, the blade slicing cleanly from the top of his skull down to his jaw. Blood erupted from the wound in a spray, coating my helmet in a thick crimson mist. His body convulsed briefly, before beginning to fall.
I didn't allow the corpse to land peacefully. Kicking the corpse with all my might, sending it flying toward the guard behind it. The dead weight slammed into the guard's chest, knocking him off balance and sending him sprawling to the ground. Another gunman stood behind him, already aiming, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Boom!
The shot went off, the bullet piercing through my shoulder plate and embedding itself deep into my flesh. But the pain didn't register—I was too far gone, too consumed by the momentum of battle. Without hesitation, I lunged at him, stomping down hard on the face of the fallen man beneath me. The weight of my armor and the sheer force of the stomp crushed his skull, flattening it with a sickening crunch as bone splintered and fragmented into the ground.
Simultaneously, I flicked my hand forward, releasing a volley of shuriken. The gunman dodged right, but I had anticipated his move. A shuriken sank deep into his right eye, tearing through the socket and lodging itself in the soft tissue behind. His scream echoed in the air, a mix of pain and raw desperation, but even as he tried to aim and fire again, his vision was compromised. The shot went wide, harmlessly striking the ground. With one swift motion, I swung my blade across his throat, cutting clean through flesh, muscle, and sinew. The man's gurgling ceased as he collapsed, his severed neck spraying blood in wide arcs across the dirt.
By the time the third man hit the ground, his life snuffed out in an instant, the remaining gunmen had scrambled to lock and load their weapons. Fear was evident in their frantic movements, and panic set in as they fired wildly. Two on my right opened up with automatic fire, but their shots were erratic, scattered across the battlefield with no clear target in mind. Their fear gripped them too tightly, shaking their hands and clouding their judgment. Accuracy was a distant memory as they pulled the trigger, desperate to hit something—anything.
But they hit the wrong targets.
Due to my speed and their abysmal aim, the bullets that were meant to tear through me found unintended victims. To my left, four gunmen charged forward to assist their comrades, only to be caught in the deadly crossfire. The first man fell instantly, his chest and abdomen torn open as a hailstorm of bullets riddled his body. The rounds pierced through muscle, shattered bone, and ripped through vital organs. Blood gushed from the wounds, soaking his shirt as his breath became shallow and labored. He collapsed to his knees, gasping for air, before crumpling lifelessly to the ground, his blood pooling beneath him.
The two gunmen stood frozen in shock, their minds struggling to process what had just happened. Their fingers loosened on their rifles, their grips slackening. They stood there, paralyzed by fear—a mistake they wouldn't live to regret.
I lunged forward, my axe gleaming in the dim light. The first man barely had time to flinch before the blade came down hard on his neck. The sheer force of the swing cleaved through muscle and bone with brutal efficiency, his head nearly severed from his body. He fell to the ground, his neck spraying blood like a geyser, his final breath escaping in a pathetic gurgle.
The second gunman, his face twisted in terror, screamed as my blade sliced across his face in a horizontal arc. The sharp edge tore through his skin, ripping open his cheek and slicing through his nose, leaving a deep, jagged wound. His scream was short-lived, a harrowing sound that pierced the air, before it faded into agonized moans. His hands shot up to his face, trying in vain to hold his flesh together as blood poured through his fingers.
The remaining three gunmen looked on, their faces pale and their eyes wide with horror. Their hands trembled, the weight of their rifles now too heavy to hold steady. I could see it in their faces—they were already defeated. Whatever strength or hope they had clung to had evaporated. Their bodies trembled like leaves in the wind, ready to collapse at any moment. Unlike the disciplined ninjas I had faced earlier, these men were nothing more than ragtag mercenaries—hired guns with no loyalty or courage.
A sinister grin crept across my face. There was no need to kill them all. No, their fear was enough. I would leave them alive, just as I had done with the ninjas in the forest. All I had to do was create enough chaos, leave behind a horrifying scene, and they would scatter like rats, too scared to fight back. The screams of two men wouldn't be enough. I needed more. Three more should do the job.
The distance between us wasn't much. Like a phantom, I closed the gap in an instant, my movements blurring as I darted forward. The speed of my approach triggered a panic in the gunmen. They opened fire, their voices shrill with terror as they screamed and shot wildly. Bullets flew past me, tearing through the air. I shifted slightly to the right, forcing them to track my movement, making them think they could catch me.
They fired hundreds of rounds, the gunfire deafening. Some bullets grazed my armor, ricocheting off the metal with a sharp ping, others tore into the flesh of my arm and leg, but none landed a killing blow. As I moved, their bullets hit their own comrades—those unlucky enough to be in my path. One man fell instantly, a single bullet ripping through his skull. His body collapsed in a heap, blood and brain matter spraying from the wound. Another screamed as two rounds tore through his abdomen, leaving him writhing in agony, clutching at his belly as blood soaked the ground beneath him.
The three gunmen had descended into madness, their blind panic turning the battlefield into a slaughterhouse. They had lost all trust in each other, choosing instead to cower behind their rifles, waiting for someone—anyone—to kill me.
Seeing them break, I finally launched my assault. Adding them to my roaster of singers. I throw a dozen of shuriken aiming at their arms and legs. Overwhelmed with mental stimuli, they didn't dodge, allowing the shuriken to freely cut off their fingers and leg tendon.
The banging sounds subside, replacing them is aguish cries. The gunmen fingers were cut clean, with them falling to the ground along with the ammunition spread across the soils. Moreover, their leg was also messed up badly with some of them losing the ability to even stand. There face meeting the ground.
With nothing obstructing my approach. Like a phantom I was already before them, bringing them an otherworldly pain. With a few slashes I cut cleanly, the arms, legs, and ears of the fallen gunmen. One of them died immediately due to shock, the other two wasn't fortunate enough, living for another three minutes in utter anguish.
It seems the mentality of the gun men were weaker than I thought. All that's required is 8 death and some of them already scattered into the forest.
The ones remain, I am guessing are actual gunmen train by The Hand. These guys finally arrive, after evacuating all the traders.
Seeing the remaining gunmen break under pressure, I launched my final assault, ready to add them to my roster of singers. With precise flicks of my wrist, a dozen shuriken soared through the air, each aimed at their arms and legs. Overwhelmed by panic and mental fatigue, they barely reacted, allowing the deadly projectiles to slice cleanly through their flesh. Fingers were severed with ease, the tendons in their legs shredded by the sharp steel.
The cacophony of gunfire subsided, replaced by a symphony of anguished cries. Their mutilated hands lay twisted in the dirt, blood pooling around the fallen digits. Ammunition spilled from their useless rifles, now scattered helplessly across the soil. Some of them collapsed immediately, their legs unable to support their weight as the tendons were torn apart. Their faces smashed into the ground, dirt and blood mixing beneath them.
With nothing standing in my way, I closed the distance like a phantom, their cries intensifying as I approached. There was no hesitation in my movements, no mercy in my strikes. My blade danced through the air, bringing an otherworldly pain to the fallen men. In one swift motion, I severed arms, legs, and ears with surgical precision. The first victim died instantly, his body succumbing to shock, but the others weren't as fortunate. They writhed in the dirt, their bodies trembling as they clung to life for another agonizing three minutes, their screams filling the air as blood soaked into the earth.
It seems the mentality of these gunmen was far weaker than I anticipated. Eight deaths were all it took for the rest to scatter into the forest, abandoning their weapons and comrades in a desperate bid to survive.
However, those who remained were different. I could see it in their eyes—the resolve, the lack of panic. These weren't the same mercenaries I had been slaughtering. No, these men had discipline. It was clear they were trained by The Hand. Unlike the ragtag soldiers who broke under pressure, these professionals stood firm, having arrived after successfully evacuating the traders.
It seems this operation is quite important. They choose to sacrifice their hired gunmen for the traders. I contemplate, wondering their true motive, either someone important is among those traders, or the illegal arm dealing market have big competitors. Considering Kingpin also operate in New York, the latter seems more sound
I took a deep breathe knowing that the fight to come is going to be far more difficult.