Chapter 44: Massacre

"Remember, kill them all, and do not let anyone escape. That is the order."

"..."

"We wait for a chance to strike."

The hissyrs were not weak at all, perhaps one could even say expertly coordinated, as after No. 2 stabbed one of them, they all quickly ran to specific spots around their small camp, while those that were far from No. 2 started shooting him with their spit. A spit strong enough to crack and slightly cave in solid stone.

No. 2 was easily able to avoid every spit bullet they shot at him, however, as he disappeared into the ground; his shadow that was left behind, just started crawling across to the other side of the camp. And as soon as all the hissyrs were busy and had all their backs turned, No. 1 raised his hand and ordered them to proceed with the attack.

As far as their plan goes, that was it.

Let No. 2 completely distract the camp, and when all their backs were turned, they attacked.

And surprisingly, out of all of them, the large and obese No. 5 was the first to reach the camp; his sprint, almost as fast as their dilapidated jeep. And with his body as heavy as it is, he rammed it toward the closest hissyr, causing it to violently roll on the floor several times.

"!!!"

The hissyrs quickly became alert of No. 5 — a mistake. Because as soon as they did so, No. 2 emerged from the shadows and once again stabbed one of them in the legs. And as the others started arriving, it soon turned into a scuffle.

No. 1 could emit and shoot out electricity from his hands. It wasn't that strong, but strong enough to temporarily paralyze the enemy for a moment, making it easy for No. 4 to control his flying knife and slice the enemy's weak points.

The Faceless crew might seem like they were overwhelming the hissyrs at first, but that isn't the case at all. The hissyrs were strong, strong enough that the first hissyr that No. 2 stabbed was still alive and was shooting at Rhys.

Rhys, however, even while observing the others fight, was able to dodge the spit bullet with minimal movements. Rhys tried releasing a blade of wind, but all it really did was scratch the scales of his enemy.

"These guys are tough, aren't they, No. 6!?"

"..." Rhys could not help but slightly raise his foot as No. 2's head suddenly emerged from his shadow.

"These naked fucks are weak below their chin and on their joints." And with those words, No. 2 disappeared as quickly as he emerged.

Rhys dodged another spit bullet that was going his way. This time, however, he did so while running toward the hissyr. And before the hissyr in front of him could fire another spit bullet, Rhys stretched his hand and threw a… secretion of his own right at the hissyr's face.

He covered the hissyr's mouth with his web, before forcefully tugging on it and pulling the hissyr closer to him. And as soon as the hissyr's neck exposed itself, Rhys quickly shaped his hand into a gun and pointed it below its chin, firing a wind bullet of his own.

The hissyr did not even get the chance to balance itself before blood started squirting out from the orifices of its face. Its entire body, going limp as it just dropped to the ground.

"Impressive," No. 1 could not help but let out a whistle as he saw what Rhys did, but failing as he was wearing a mask. And as soon as Rhys finally truly joined the fight, the battle soon turned one-sided.

***

"Please, just stop this!"

"Save me!"

"What did we even do!?"

It was a different language altogether, but Rhys could still understand them all the same as the hissyrs started screaming when only half of them were left. Their thin rat-like tails which were not really useful in battle, now wrapping across in front of their groin as they all kneel and cower in submission.

"..." Rhys turned to look at his new comrades, wondering if any of them could understand what the hissyrs were saying. But seeing none of them were really reacting and just staring at them, perhaps not.

Or perhaps some of them could, they could just not be bothered to listen.

"Ah, fuck. I really hate when these fuckers do this," No. 2 pinched the bridge of his nose as he and the rest of the Faceless crew surrounded the remaining hissyrs, "I mean, what are these lizards even saying?"

"Let's just get this over with," No. 1 let out a small sigh as he kneeled and placed his palm on the ground, "We're not here to terrorize or torture them, they don't have to suffer."

And with those words, streaks of electricity started to crawl from his hand and toward the trapped hissyrs. But as soon as No. 1's eyes landed on the 2 young hissyrs screaming and crying, the electricity crawling through the floor abruptly died down before it could reach them.

"No. 1!?"

And a second of distraction was all it needed for the hissyrs to once again rushed toward them. Fortunately, No. 1 was able to quickly snap out of it as he once again charged his electricity through the ground — immobilizing the hissyrs again.

But unfortunately, not all of them.

"Those little ones are running!"

"I'm on it," Rhys, who was the closest to the two small hissyrs, quickly chased after them as they ran toward the closed truck, agilely leaping on the back of it.

"Shit! No. 6, wait! There might be more hostiles inside!" No. 1 and the others wanted to follow Rhys, but they were busy trying to restrain and kill the rest of the hissyrs left outside the camp.

Rhys did not really hear No. 1's order as he just leaped and stepped inside the back of the truck. Rhys was expecting the truck to be dark and immediately readied himself to dodge whatever was coming toward him… but what came at him was something he would have never expected.

There indeed were more hissyrs there, women by the looks of them. They were all glaring at Rhys, hissing at him but not attacking him as they all just crouched on the floor crying.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," Rhys raised both his hands as he heard all the pleading thoughts of the female hissyrs, "If you don't attack us, then maybe they will let all of you—"

There was something weird about them, however… they had fewer scales than the male ones and almost looked completely human. But not because it was a racial trait, no.

Rhys could see the skin of one of the woman's arms peeling off… like a glove.

"...Huh?" Rhys blinked a couple of times as he very slowly lowered his hands, truly not knowing what he was seeing right now. Soon, however, his eyes strayed toward a rusty cage, and inside it was another group of women — human, this time. All of them had jet-black hair, one of the major traits of Lowborns like him.

It did not really register to Rhys that they were human at first glance, as they were barely alive with... parts of their skin completely shaved off. Rhys's eyes then fall onto a small silhouette that is being cradled by another woman. It was a little girl, perhaps barely even 5; her head, only a skull.

"..." Rhys's eyes continued to travel across the truck. And finally, he noticed the two children who had run away earlier. One of them, hastily being helped by a crying hyssir as she forcefully tried to fit a mask on his head, a mask… obviously made from the little girl's face.

"I see," Rhys momentarily closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath. He then very slowly reached for his waist, grabbing something from it — Katarina's scalpel, hidden away in his utility belt,

"...I see what is going on here now."

***

"No. 6! Fuck! Why aren't you responding, are you dea—Oh, fuck."

As soon as the Faceless crew wiped out the hissyrs outside, they all came to Rhys's aid. No. 2 was the first to get in the truck, emerging from the shadows carefully. No matter how careful he was, however, his frilly dress was immediately soaked with blood.

"No. 6…" No. 2 almost stuttered as he saw Rhys just standing in the middle of the truck; not moving at all as blood trailed down all over him, dripping down the dismembered body parts and mangled flesh that was surrounding him. And in his hand, was the decapitated head of one of the young hissyrs who ran away,

"...What the fuck did you do?"