Asmodeus tightened his fingers, gripping the knuckle duster firmly. It was still stained with Doctor Bai’s dried blood. Thinking about having just killed the possessed Adrian made him inevitably excited.
Adrian wasn’t as steady and serious as rumored—his pheromones were even somewhat domineering.
But that was even better. Killing ordinary people would only bore him. Only killing S-levels could truly please him.
Two muffled laughs came from Asmodeus’s throat as his pheromones erupted provocatively, filling the narrow corridor.
Adrian squinted slightly. The creases in his eyelids were deep and narrow. He usually looked profound and calm, as if few things could affect his emotions. But now, with just a slight movement, his gaze became both arrogant and gloomy.
Asmodeus was first to activate his ability. In an instant, he created over ten duplicates, surrounding Adrian completely. They rapidly changed positions around Adrian, making it impossible to determine where his real body was.
The cool breeze from the duplicates’ movement blew through Adrian’s hair. The corridor lights flickered on and off with buzzing sounds.
Adrian flipped his wrist, letting the baton slide down from his shoulder, slowly scraping against the cement floor.
“Die!” Asmodeus’s single eye contracted as over ten duplicates raised their fists together, spikes hammering toward Adrian’s skull.
Just this one strike would be enough to shatter a person’s skull. Even if he didn’t die, he’d never get up again.
A cold wind struck. Mad Clown was about to warn him when Adrian suddenly looked up, his right arm swinging the baton with his body’s rotational momentum, smashing hard toward the left rear!
Bang!
The baton struck bone precisely, making a sharp, muffled sound. The handle even showed faint cracks, demonstrating how much force was used in this strike.
“Ah… ah!” Asmodeus grimaced, quickly covering his left arm with his right hand. Hideous bruises rapidly appeared there, almost bursting through the skin.
Asmodeus’s eyeballs trembled violently as he stared at Adrian in disbelief.
How did Adrian know his real body was here?
“You’re too stupid.” Adrian laughed deeply. The powerful baton swing had pulled his sleeve up, revealing an expensive mechanical watch.
The watch face reflected cold light under the lamps, light spots jumping onto Adrian’s face before being quickly swallowed by his somber eyes.
That position was the optimal spot for a sneak attack.
When someone decides to launch a sneak attack, they never attack from the front, so the probability of attacking from behind is one hundred percent.
Since he held the baton in his right hand, it was easier to deal with attacks from the right. The left side required an extra turn, which was slightly inconvenient.
So Asmodeus would most likely attack from the left.
When swung, a baton has a large attack range—it didn’t matter where on the left, it was all within his striking range.
So he’d just made a random guess, and sure enough, he’d guessed right. Asmodeus really wouldn’t give him any surprises.
The sound of leather shoes came unhurriedly as he walked toward Asmodeus, the baton dragging on the ground, scraping out a dull, prolonged bass note.
“If you keep being so half-hearted, you’ll die a miserable death.” Adrian pressed the baton with his palm, breathing evenly. Not even a speck of dust touched his shoe tips.
“Who dies is still uncertain!”
Asmodeus instantly vanished from in front of Adrian, appearing behind him in less than half a second, his joint blade stabbing toward his heart like lightning!
Clang—
The blade was only an inch away from piercing Adrian’s chest when brown wings suddenly spread out, their feathers hard as shields, blocking the blade tip.
The blade tip scraped sparks against the feathers but only left a shallow white mark on the long plumes.
This was also the confidence behind Adrian’s casual guess earlier.
Asmodeus’s strike missed, and he was about to stab again when the wings swept over devastatingly, sending him flying hard.
Asmodeus crashed heavily into the prison bars, then fell to the ground. Of course, in his eyes, he’d crashed into a mobile food cart, scattering hot dog buns and sauerkraut all over the floor.
Asmodeus got up, disgustedly brushing sauerkraut strips off himself.
While Adrian could only see him frantically patting at his empty chest.
“You have a cleanliness obsession?” Adrian retracted his wings, feigning regret. “Too bad the scene of me killing you won’t be very clean.”
“Is this your dying delusion?” Asmodeus licked away the blood trickling from his mouth.
Adrian didn’t seem to care much, actually taking his time to remove his watch, then casually tossing it to Lucas who had the best viewing position.
Lucas instinctively caught it. The watch lay heavy in his palm, the metal band carrying Adrian’s body warmth and a faint trace of pheromone scent.
“Annoying guy, why are you throwing this to me?”
Adrian shot him a dangerous look that made Lucas instinctively shrink his neck, but realizing this made him look bad, he glared back fiercely.
Adrian ultimately said nothing—now wasn’t a good time to discipline his little brother.
Asmodeus took advantage of his turned head, slapping his thigh as a spring blade suddenly emerged from his shoe tip. Supporting himself with one hand, he kicked hard, the spring blade flashing white light as it slashed toward Adrian’s ankle.
Adrian immediately retreated, but what was in front of him was already Asmodeus’s illusion—the real him was behind, aiming for Adrian’s Achilles tendon.
“Watch out!” Lucas’s expression changed drastically.
It was too late for Adrian to escape unscathed. He could only minimize the damage. A sudden chill above his ankle, blood seeped out, staining his custom-tailored suit pants.
“Hahaha… that’s all you’re capable of.” Asmodeus straightened up, laughing heartily. “I’ll send you to meet the King of Hell right now!”
As he spoke, his already shriveled, sunken flesh-red right eye suddenly split open, and from that opening poured a red, viscous, indescribable parasite.
The parasite had two sesame-sized eyes. Seeing Adrian was like seeing long-coveted food—it leaped through the air to attack.
Adrian swung his baton hard at it.
The parasite’s head was knocked aside, but its body extended several blood vessel-like branches, biting at Adrian from different directions.
Once skin was touched by it, one would instantly be drained into a paper-thin corpse.
“Come on, Adrian, become part of me! Let your abilities belong to me!” Asmodeus screamed excitedly, his right eye becoming a pitch-black hole through which you could see directly into his brain.
His brain was no longer that of a normal human—it seemed like some kind of insect nest, the brainstem full of holes and excavated, gnawed tunnels.
The brain nest was wrapped in a layer of yellow mucus, like years of secretions.
Ugh.
Lucas covered his stomach and dry-heaved, almost vomiting what little acid he had left.
This wasn’t the same kind of nausea as Fata’s pills—this was soul-striking revulsion.
Why did he have to experience such colorful varieties of disgust during his time on earth?
Meanwhile, Adrian was already fighting the parasite, his baton smashing hard at each red tentacle, sending mucus flying as it shrieked.
“So it’s an insect nest.” Adrian swung again, his suit jacket flaring up and quickly dropping, revealing glimpses of his lean, powerful lower back.
“Duplicates, speed movement, monsters.” He pressed down finger by finger, counting Asmodeus’s abilities. “How disappointing.”
Asmodeus’s left eye rolled wildly as his palm suddenly raised a mass of trembling black gas: “Guess how many abilities I’ve absorbed during my ten years in this prison?”
Just as he was about to launch a sneak attack, golden light blazed overhead as a giant blue eye appeared. The blue eye wasn’t human—strange patterns were carved around the pupil, and dark blue blood vessels lay beneath the sclera.
Bird-of-paradise form S-level third-tier ability [Heaven]!
The blue eye gazed down at Asmodeus from above, leaving him nowhere to hide. He felt humble and insignificant, cowardly and base. Overwhelming inferiority washed over him as Asmodeus suddenly found he couldn’t move!
The writhing parasite flailed its slimy body like a beached fish, only able to shriek weakly, no longer fierce.
Soon, the parasite’s flesh-red body began smoking as if burned by the blue eye.
Adrian walked toward him, looking down at the bloodless, sweat-drenched Asmodeus.
He raised the baton again, showing a cruel smile: “You might be able to spar with me, but compared to me, you’re far too weak.”
The first “me” he mentioned naturally referred to his completely different light side.
The baton smashed hard into Asmodeus’s chest.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
All his ribs shattered into bone fragments, rotting beneath the skin.
Asmodeus lost support, his upper body hunching like an old man’s, a muffled, watery whimper coming from his throat.
Blood poured from his throat like a small waterfall to the ground. He wanted to say something but had no opening for air to pass through.
“How did you kill me just now? Oh, the cervical spine.”
Adrian stepped with long strides, elegantly circling behind Asmodeus, raising the stick like a golf club and violently smashing toward Asmodeus’s neck bone.
Crack!
Bright red spinal fluid seeped from Asmodeus’s pores, splashing onto Adrian’s cheek and eyelid. The once-hard bone was now completely crushed flat, protruding scattered white bone tips.
Adrian’s back was broad, his strikes precise, his follow-through as textbook-perfect as a golf swing.
He only regretted not being able to send the head flying like a golf ball.
“Then what? The knee.”
Adrian smashed Asmodeus’s right hand with several blows, leaving it connected only by a layer of skin and flesh, which he tore off forcibly.
Holding this hand, he kicked Asmodeus over, went to the knees, first using the spike to crush the kneecaps, then using the joint blade to gouge out both knees.
Blood had already stained the edges of his shoes, but he continued reminiscing with lowered eyes: “Finally the back—I don’t have much memory of that.”
So he crouched down, one hand resting on his knee, using the joint blade to cut open Asmodeus’s outer clothes, then his back, bit by bit, unhurriedly peeling out Asmodeus’s spine.
Looking at the bloody human skin and organs turned to pulp, he finally felt long-missed satisfaction and contentment.
Asmodeus had long since bled from all seven orifices and died in agony. The parasite that had nested in his brain was also burned to charcoal by the blue eye.
Adrian stood up, discarded Asmodeus’s right hand, and casually flicked his fingers, sending blood droplets flying from his fingertips.
He kept his hand raised like this, lightly tugging his sleeve to reveal his distinct knuckles.
“Lucas, come help your brother put on his watch.”
##
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152