Chapter 29 : Cool!?

Boom!

Under Carl's formidable palm, the long sword in the Mutant's hand wavered instantly and was sent flying, the entire figure tilting under the force.

In that moment, Carl advanced, his form not yielding but pressing forward, seizing the Mutant's shoulders with both hands, aiming to subdue it.

Yet, in that instant, the figure snatched the airborne long sword, executing a swift maneuver, leveraging the sword's momentum to pivot its upper body backward.

Puff!

The sound of air being rent asunder echoed.

Disregarding the iron collar encircling its neck, the Mutant smeared with blood and sinew, wielding the sword, lunged towards Carl's neck with a mournful, feral howl.

Its demeanor exuded madness, its bearing tragic.

Should it land a blow, given the keenness of its blade and its latent power, even Carl might sustain injury, perhaps severe.

Forced to retreat once more, Carl, intent on subduing the Mutant, found himself slightly irked.

Casting a cold glance at the Mutant, he uttered, "It seems you won't relent until convinced."

Hoohoo!!

In response, a frenzied roar erupted, accompanied by a flurry of blade light filling the room.

Whoosh whoosh!!

Moving at full speed, their forms blurred, leaving only two silhouettes darting about, stirring up gusts within the chamber.

This Mutant, plagued by incomprehensible torments, its consciousness spiraling into chaos and violence, despite Carl's offer of a truce, was not yet ready to yield.

Amidst its frenetic onslaught, despite dodging numerous strikes, Carl finally seized an opening, his fist once more morphing into a palm.

Yet this time, instead of striking the blade, he thrust forward, grasping the Mutant's hand holding the sword.

Though swift and the blade fierce, the Mutant's strength paled in comparison to Carl's. The moment it was ensnared within his grasp, the blade light dissipated.

Before it could thrash wildly, a colossal fist descended upon its head.

Bang!

Under the sheer force, the Mutant was stunned.

Her head was throbbing from the impact, her consciousness muddled, her body weakened, and the sword slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground.

Yet, to halt any further resistance, Carl swiftly maneuvered, delivering a punch that left the opponent dazed, then deftly pinning her against the wall.

Indeed, she was a woman.

Upon seizing her wrists, Carl discerned the mutant's gender. Her delicate wrists and soft skin contrasted with the ruggedness of a man's.

Moreover, the unmistakable prominence of her bust confirmed her femininity beyond doubt.

And atop her forehead, protruded two devilish horns, each about five centimeters in length, earning her the moniker 'devil.'

Though the dimness obscured her features, Carl made out her form well enough.

As the mutant, still reeling from Carl's blow, began to recover, her eyes blazed crimson with fury and madness.

Just as she prepared to resist, Carl struck her head from behind once more.

Thud!

The blow not only caused her head to ache but also slammed her forehead against the wall, eliciting a cry of agony.

"Hello, are you with us? I'm here to rescue you."

Thud!

"Can you hear me now?"

Thud!

"Are you able to speak?"

Thud! Thud!

Despite his courteous inquiries, Carl's fists were unrelenting.

He couldn't afford to be soft.

Though the mutant was a woman, her earlier madness erased any notion of pity from Carl's mind.

Under his relentless barrage, her struggles waned, and the madness in her eyes subsided.

Just as Carl prepared to strike again, the bloodied woman weakly pleaded, "Please... no more."

"Ah, you're finally awake."

Regrettably, Carl ceased his assault.

Is this violent outburst a manifestation of some latent inclination within me? He pondered, troubled by his own actions.

Coughing, how is that possible? I'm a good person.

Carl shook his head, pushing the strange thoughts aside, and simultaneously released the woman's hand.

Once Carl let go, although the Mutant still harbored a fierce glare, he refrained from further action.

Observing this, Carl let out a sigh of relief. He then located the light switch by the door and pressed it.

Click!

A wall lamp in the corner of the room flickered to life, casting a faint glow.

However, the ceiling lamps had long been destroyed.

As the battle concluded, Carl surveyed the room, taking in the scattered debris and the crimson stains that painted the scene in hues of red. Even he couldn't suppress a grimace at the sight of this hellish aftermath.

In the corner, the female Mutant cowered, appearing somewhat ashamed in the presence of the tall and handsome Carl, clad in his black battle suit.

Compared to Carl's immaculate appearance, she resembled a creature of chaos, with unkempt hair, torn garments, numerous bandages, and blood adorning her form.

Noticing her reaction, Carl spoke softly, "Don't be afraid. I'm here to rescue you, and I too am a Mutant."

"You're a Mutant too? But..." The woman faltered for a moment, then hesitated.

Carl smiled at her, "Are you wondering why I lack typical mutations?"

He wasn't taken aback by her response. Thanks to the biased portrayal by certain media outlets, Mutants were often viewed by the general populace as synonymous with deformity and abnormality.

Indeed, a significant portion of Mutants exhibited bizarre traits, constituting nearly 50% of their population.

"There are countless Mutants, each one unique. Some mutations may not exhibit additional characteristics, like mine."

"Ah, I see." The Mutant's eyes gleamed with admiration. It would be a relief if she didn't have the mutant trait either.

Noticing her reaction, Carl couldn't help but offer reassurance: "You shouldn't feel inferior because of your mutation. In fact, you're not just not ugly, you're pretty cool."

"Really?"

The Mutant was taken aback. It was the first time someone had told her she wasn't ugly since her mutation.

Carl nodded firmly, "Absolutely."

His words carried a hint of genuine comfort.

The female Mutant's entire body was now a deep crimson, her hair matted with blood, forming a tangled mass. The blood was both hers and others'.

Large swathes of bandages still covered many parts of her body, giving her the appearance of a denizen of hell.

Given her current state, one could only imagine the torment she had endured before. No wonder she seemed unhinged.

With her grotesque appearance, it was evident that she wasn't conventionally attractive. Thus, Carl's remark about her being 'cool' was more about trying to offer a small measure of solace.

After all, a kind word costs nothing, and sometimes, it's enough to provide some comfort.

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