CHAPTER 15

The bullets were fired, creating blossoming fireworks of brilliance. The young man with the cap gracefully maneuvered through the gaps between bullets, his daggers reaping one life after another. The already dim lights turned even darker after the dazzling display of ricocheting bullets. But none of this seemed to affect the young man. Instead, he seemed to be thriving in the chaos. He danced on the edge of the blades, lurking within the night. The daggers traced silvery arcs, effortlessly harvesting life after life, devoid of any fear of killing. Or perhaps, he felt an unusual exhilaration.

The primal instincts surged through him, transforming Ethan into the incarnation of the shadowy grim reaper. His senses were heightened beyond imagination, perceiving every rustle and movement around him. The ice-cold bullets seemed to never find their mark, as he anticipated their paths in advance and skillfully evaded them. The lively square dance taught by Grandma Marget provided him with exceptional body coordination. He could easily shift his body vertically, instantly bouncing back to his feet. The unique watering technique of Master Mark endowed him with a killer's uncanny versatility in every move. The subtle and mysterious flirtation technique of the sword Master Leo bestowed upon him an overwhelming confidence and aura. Even the seemingly useless supernatural abilities that were dormant in him were now reawakened, seamlessly integrated into Ethan's being. Even a bunch of junk abilities, when accumulated to a certain level, could unleash a radiant and dazzling brilliance.

At this moment, the dagger in Ethan's hand proved everything. When the lights illuminated the scene once again, the floor was littered with sixteen corpses. Without exception, their necks bore traces of blood, evidence of death by throat slitting. The bar was permeated with a nauseating smell of blood. For some reason, Ethan had grown fond of this scent. As the warm blood splattered on him, he felt his heart gradually filling up. It was as if a voice in his head was constantly whispering to him:

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

"Release your primal instincts! Release your wild nature!"

"Eliminate everything before your eyes!" However, Ethan stopped. Because he knew he should stop. The enemies were all dead. His primal instincts couldn't control his mind and body, nor influence his decisions. He was the master of his own mind!

"E-Ethan... Are you okay?" Skye crawled out from under the table, looking dazed. During the initial chaos, Ethan had pushed her under the table to avoid being grazed by stray bullets.

"I'm fine now, don't worry." Ethan shook his hand, realizing that his wrist was a bit stiff. Even his muscles were sore from the sudden burst of energy.

"Young man... where do you come from?" The elderly man's right hand, gripping the cane-sword, trembled slightly. He hadn't seen someone like this in a long time.

"Thanks for your protection just now, Old Dad. Where I come from isn't that important, I only remember that my homeland is called Huaxia." Ethan removed his cap and threw it aside. Thank goodness he was wearing that thing, or else he would have been drenched in blood.

"Thanks for intervening, mysterious Easterner. Uh, would you like some alcohol? Old Dad's liquor is the best in Hell's Kitchen."

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