Ch 29: You thought you can kill me? Laughable

'Here comes the lackey of some renowned young master, seeking their own doom'

A smirk began to play on his lips as he took a stance, ready to employ his Kickboxing skills to face off against the swarm of opponents.

'Upgrade my Mid-Level kickboxing art' Lucifer gave command to Ego as he could not wait to massacre the hell out of all.

[Upgrading the Mid-Level Kickboxing Skill Art, deduct 50 hatred points]

[Remaining hatred points: 24.1]

[Ding! Upgrade successful!]

[High-Level Kickboxing Skill Art (Blue Grade) (300 hatred points needed for further upgrade)]

[When using your kickboxing skill, your power increases by 30% than before and your flexibility by 40% than before]

'Tsk, now the hatred points for further upgrades have increased astronomically.'

The air crackled with tension as a dagger-wielding minion suddenly started to fly towards him—full force, eyes glinting menacingly.

The young lad's power was fueled solely by a reckless desire to kill, but he was merely a High-Level Dawnbringer who could not harness any core energy to strengthen his attack.

Lucifer, on the other hand, began to draw on his raw dark energy, using it to conserve his strength, but he was careful not to over-rely on the dark power, as he was weak at the moment and fully aware of it.

"Here take this, weak bastard!"

The lackey shouted loudly as he tried to stab Lucifer while throwing a wide arc thrust attack.

In a blur of speed, Lucifer countered with a savage butterfly kick down on the lackey, which perfectly landed on his neck.

Thus, the lackey flew off and crashed into the ground — the thumping sound was heard across the area.

"…"

"Idiots! What are you doing, Playing with him? Just gang up on him together and beat with whatever you have!" MuLa bellowed.

At MuLa's command, the lackeys shifted their strategy and surrounded Lucifer for a combined attack. It was intense—Lucifer punched and delivered quick, sharp kicks like a whirlwind.

Though his body was riddled with wounds, his auto-heal functioned well on shallow cuts, mending them almost instantly, though it faltered on deeper wounds and energy-coated strikes.

'At least it's not completely useless,' Lucifer thought with a smirk.

In mere minutes, he had overwhelmed the lackeys, landing blow after blow with a ferocity that left them reeling and disoriented. However, MuLa was not idle either. He relentlessly attacked Lucifer from behind with his fire-type attacks.

Thus, the relentless assault from MuLa took its toll as several brutal hits frequently landed on Lucifer, which made his defenses battered and his clothes also hung in tatters.

Each strike left a mark on his body, but Lucifer welcomed the pain as it ignited a fire within him, driving him to fight harder.

'Just wait a little bit, your turn will also come'

The battlefield around them was quite chaotic as they started to get into close combat. Debris here, there, and everywhere, and onlookers gasped at the brutality of the fight that was happening.

A few casualties had already occurred, and some in the crowd were frantically reaching for their communicators (communication tokens) and informing the guards at how the violence was escalating.

"Is that all you've got?"

Lucifer taunted, blood spilling from his lips as he spat onto the ground. He could feel the adrenaline surging through him, heightening his senses and sharpening his focus. His sole focus was on making all the shit pay—a predator reveling in the hunt, savoring the thrill of battle.

But neither MuLa nor Lucifer was ready to yield.

"Rise of the Fire: Fire Punch!" MuLa shouted, unleashing one of his most powerful attacks.

Confusion and rage flickered in his eyes as he watched Lucifer remain unmoved, a defiant smirk playing on his lips.

'Is this son of a bitch out of trump cards? Whatever,' MuLa thought, sneering inwardly, his confidence unwavering.

"Tsk, now you learn your place? Can't even move? Son of a bitch, die!" MuLa taunted, his voice dripping with malice. The fiery punch connected with Lucifer's body, the impact sending him hurtling backward, crashing into the wall of a nearby house with a bone-jarring thud.

[Warning: The host is heavily wounded.]

"Cough…" Lucifer gasped, slipping into unconsciousness.

"…"

"Is that it?" The crowd fell into a baffled silence, confusion etched on their faces as if Lucifer was playing a prank on them. "Hadn't this white-haired boy been easily outnumbering others? What is happening now?"

"Hahahaha! There you go, that's it; that's the result when you try to compete with me!" MuLa laughed maniacally, his voice reverberating with the craze of victory, convinced that he had won this war of dignity.

But his fleeting moment of glory proved to be short-lived. Suddenly, his gaze shifted to TuRi. He was gesticulating with all his might, his eyes conveying an urgent message of alarm, his right hand waving broadly as he kept repeating, "Look out! Look out!"

"What is it?" MuLa snapped.

His eyes widened as he noticed the guards approaching, gradually drawing closer. However, MuLa did not fear or startle, as they were still far enough away to pose an immediate threat, but the tension in the air was palpable.

MuLa regarded the guards with a mix of disdain and apprehension, aware they were his own companions.

"What is going on, young Master MuLa?" one of the guards inquired politely, though the respect in his voice was clearly directed at MuLa's family name rather than at him personally.

"Nothing much, just a pest showing his attitude to me and our town," MuLa replied nonchalantly, brushing off the concern as if it were a mere annoyance.

"Well, who has the guts to offend the young master? Oh, this guy? What a poor fellow," the guard said with a feigned smile, his tone dripping with insincerity but no one noticed it.

MuLa not caring what the guard was thinking, shot a sidelong glance at the guard, a silent command passing between them. It was clear he expected the guard to take care of the situation swiftly.

The guard, understanding the unspoken signal, flexed his fingers in anticipation.

MuLa flashed a handful of coins onto the hand of the guard quickly as if it were the promise of their deal. Everything unfolded in rapid succession. None of the bystanders could fully grasp the exchange between the guard and MuLa.

With a practiced ease, the guard approached Lucifer, who was struggling to regain his senses, disoriented and dazed. Rough hands gripped Lucifer, and with little gentleness, the guard began to drag him away, off the public path and into the shadows.

It felt like minutes passed as an eternity while the guard yanked Lucifer toward a shadowy alley, his eyes darting left and right, ensuring that no one was watching him commit this evil act.

The guard, concealed by the darkness, advanced deeper into the shadows and tightened his grip on Lucifer, pushing him into the secluded area.

As they reached the depths of darkness, the guard unsheathed the dagger hanging by his side, which shimmered ominously under the dim light. He was about to complete his dark task, and the air was thick with a sense of impending doom.

"Sorry, kid. This is where your story ends," he muttered. There seemed to mix sympathy with the resolute sound in his voice, but he held no regrets—as much assurance as one about to do some gruesome act.

But then, as he was taking his last step to hit, all of a sudden a chilling silence pressed down upon the alley like a heavy shroud and the guard also felt something was amiss.

Puchii!

Blood splattered across the ground, painting the alley in crimson.

'Why am I feeling cold all of a sudden?' the guard thought, confused. His expression froze, bewilderment and disbelief washing over his face as he felt the warmth of his own life draining away from his fingers—not Lucifer's.

He then realized his dagger was missing; when he reached for his neck, he felt the dagger already embedded within it.

'Looks like this time I messed with something I shouldn't have.'

Confusion and fear flickered in his eyes before they slowly closed for the last time, his body collapsing with a heavy thud against the cold, unforgiving pavement. 

In stark contrast to the lifeless body of the guard, someone emerged from the shadows—it was Lucifer, his crimson eyes glinting with malevolence.

When just as the guard was about to thrust his blade, Lucifer moved so swiftly, that even the guard did not notice what just happened that time.

'That's why always one has to be cautious even from the dead person'

An evil smile crept across his face, satisfaction coursing through his veins like fire igniting his very soul. The thrill of this unexpected turn of events ignited a dark joy within him.

"You thought you could finish me off so easily?" Lucifer hissed, stepping over the fallen form of the guard. "Man, you have no idea who you're dealing with."

Lucifer was undeniably weak in body, but his mind was a fortress of will. He had fought valiantly but had to play a cautious game—each calculated move upon his mental chessboard. His primary target was to earn hatred points, and now, having executed this clever subterfuge, he felt a rush of accomplishment.