Chereads / The Cursed Grimoire / Chapter 20 - Ops team.

Chapter 20 - Ops team.

〘You've killed 20 mega rats〙

〘Reward: 1000 EXP〙

Level up!

Level 6 [800/1000 EXP]

Damon was no hero. The world wasn't a peaceful place, and threats like Weasel needed to be vanquished, or they would pose a great problem in the future.

Besides, what Weasel had done to him was unforgivable, and his life would have been lost.

Even killing him immediately seemed like mercy to Damon; extreme torture should have been what he faced.

〘You've killed a human〙

〘200 EXP rewarded〙

〘First-time reward: 200 EXP〙

Level up!

Level 7 [200/2000 EXP]

The splatter of blood laced his hands, feeling warm and comforting as it ran down his fingers.

He looked at his EXP, which had shot up after slaughtering twenty rodents and killing a human.

A satisfying smile carved itself on Damon's face. "I don't know what's so thrilling about taking one's life, but it's amazing!!"

**BOOM!!!**

A heavy explosion rang out unexpectedly, tossing a few people flying back. The sound resonated like a grenade piercing through Damon's eardrums with a high-pitched tone.

Dust clouded the surrounding area, obstructing everyone's vision for minutes as they coughed their lungs out.

"Damon!! Are you OK?" Kenny asked the moment he arrived at Damon's location.

He saw Weasel with a crystal that the mega rats fired embedded through his head, and from the way Damon towered over the body, it was clear who the executioner was.

"What happened here?" Kenny asked.

"Nothing, just tying up loose ends," Damon said, stealing a glance at Weasel once more.

"Forget about that; the metal door has been burst open," Kenny said, unease in his tone.

"Isn't that a good thing...?" It was then that it suddenly clicked. Kenny didn't mention they breached it, which meant it exploded on its own.

"Fuck!"

"We're finally free!!!" someone screamed in excitement as he ran to the burst-open door.

There was a large opening in the thick steel door, with pieces of broken steel plates scattered on the white soil.

Whatever had burst open this six-inch-thick door was quite powerful to achieve this feat.

The man ran with all his might, not wasting a second as freedom was literally in front of him.

As the view through the door brightened and he passed through, a trigger was pulled, and a bullet twice the size of an M118LR round shot right through him, creating a large hole in his chest.

His internal organs splattered on the ground behind him, creating a blood-soaked artwork before his lifeless body plummeted to the hard surface.

The next moment, a swarm of individuals clad in black Ops suits with MA-1 portable masks strapped to their faces entered.

They came in one after another, armed with specially made P90 and KSG-12 firearms, moving with calculated precision and ready to snuff out anyone who tried anything.

The atmosphere became tense, and everyone was glued to their feet as memories flooded their minds.

'Dammit, the military,' Kenny thought, already agitated by their presence.

Damon recognized who they were, even though it had been years. Why wouldn't he? These were the people who had thrown him into the slums.

The Ops-suited people parted ways as a certain individual walked calmly through the opened path with graceful steps. This particular person had a different design to their suit—three golden stars indicating their rank, along with blue stripes running down the edges.

Unlike the completely black color, which was perfectly reliable for cloaking in the darkness.

The hourglass body structure revealed that she was a female, and when the mask was removed, her glimmering face became visible, taking the breath away from the people of the slums.

The sight of the opposite gender had been a rarity until now; there were no females in the slums, which only consisted of males.

Homosexuality had even been practiced by some due to the lack of women—not because they wanted to, but because of hormones and the longing for pleasure.

This had made half of their population become homosexuals.

However, the spectacular view of the woman strapped in the Ops suit made certain parts of their anatomy stir in response.

She had golden-brown long hair that reached her midsection. Her scarlet eyes complemented her solemn expression, which was cold and frigid.

With perfect posture, she spoke, "Filthy maggots!!"

Those were the words she spoke before Michael finally snapped. "Do you bleed?"

His figure became a blur as, in the next moment, he appeared right in her gaze within seconds.

Before she could react, a heavy fist planted itself in her abdomen, sending ripples through her soul as she coughed up blood.

Nevertheless, shocked expressions hung on each of the slum dwellers' faces when they saw that the woman only took a step back and that her suit absorbed the brunt of the force.

Before Michael could back away to assess the situation, the woman smashed him with both hands, driving his figure to the earth's surface and shattering the ground in the process.

And just for good measure, she stomped on him, deepening the human-shaped imprint.

Michael hated the military with a passion. He had been locked up for years by them, which was why he had vowed to vanquish them if he ever encountered their presence.

Yet, after they reached his grasp, they took him down before he could even kill any of them.

"Hmm, that's a surprise—a Curseweaver. It seems some might have awakened in the slums. Goody," the woman said, stepping over Michael's body, who may have been suffering from concussions from the beating she gave him.

"Listen up, lowlifes. My name is Commander Elysan, a three-star Ops strike force of the Beacon Organization," Elysan paused for dramatic effect, but seeing the lack of concern on their faces, she hissed before continuing.

"We are tasked with transporting every one of you to another slum located in another area..." Elysan said but was immediately interrupted.

"Fuck you, hoe!! Is that the only reason you came in here and wasted one of our lives like it was worthless?" someone shouted.

"Yes, all your lives are. If it were up to me, I would eradicate you bastards from existence," Elysan then announced.

"Now, boys, round them up and use force if they don't comply."

The military had always regarded people from the slums as animals; no remorse was ever shown.

The world's current situation should have led people to come together to eliminate the threat to them all—the void creatures.

But no, they treated each other like trash, and respect could only be earned with power.

Damon stared at Elysan in surprise.

Curseweavers had a kind of internal ability that detected their kind, and the Ops team didn't even have a Curseweaver.

'Then how the hell did she withstand a powerful strike from Michael?' Damon thought. Humans might have evolved more than he had expected.

****