I Want to Die, But I Am Immortal-Chapter 80: Revenge (4)

He moved so quickly that the hallway became blurry. The soldiers did not even have time to observe him approaching. He was already present.

He began shooting. The quiet guns produced gentle sounds. Phht-phht-phht. It sounded like death. In just a few seconds, six men were killed. They dropped to the ground before they could even lift their own weapons.

Adam felt like everything was moving slowly. His mind was functioning quite fast. He could see everything plainly. He saw the men’s terrified expressions. He watched their rifles begin to fire. He saw bullets flying through the air. He could react to anything. He moved too rapidly for them.

The soldiers that were still alive began to panic. Their buddies were dying all around them. They gazed down the hall. They attempted to identify who was shooting at them. But they saw nothing. Just shadows.

Then Adam fell from the ceiling.

He took advantage of their confusion to jump up. He was clutching onto some pipes on the ceiling. Now he let go. He landed on his feet first. He appeared to be an angel of death falling from the skies. He aimed for a man with a large automatic weapon.

He did not have time to accomplish anything. He looked down the corridor. Then a boot slammed into his chest. The kick was really forceful. There was a loud crackling noise. It was the sound of his bones snapping.

The man flew backward. He collided with the other soldiers behind him. His mouth bled. He slumped to the ground, and his chest was entirely destroyed.

The onslaught was quite rapid and forceful. The final few soldiers were too terrified to move. They would never seen anything like that before.

The tremendous kick knocked the mercenary off his feet. He collided with the men behind him, like a human bowling ball. The entangled warriors collapsed in a jumbled heap of thrashing limbs and clattering guns. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Their collapse saved Adam vital seconds. They were disoriented, trying to separate themselves from their companions on the floor.

Adam capitalized on their misunderstanding. He plummeted to the ground, falling quietly despite the tumult. A battle knife appeared in his hand, replacing one of the handguns. He surged forward like a predator swooping on a wounded animal.

The folks on the floor were still attempting to get up. They were pushing and shoving each other, attempting to regain their feet. They were totally defenseless. Adam’s knife became a whirl of movement. A rapid slice across the throat. A powerful shove into the chest. A severe stab into the neck.

He moved like a cyclone of death, frighteningly efficient. He was a machine, processing targets one by one. In the space of a few heartbeats, the struggle on the floor ended. Fifteen men were dead or dying in the corridor, their blood spilling on the polished tiles.

Only five remained. They were in the back of the pack and managed to miss the initial pile-up. Two of them were the same individuals Adam had met at the gate during the previous loop.

They peered at the scene of devastation, their faces blanched with shock and despair. They observed a lone figure of Adam standing among his companions’ bodies, his clothes covered with blood and his knife pouring red.

They broke.

Their training, greed, and courage were all lost in a moment. They turned and bolted. They scrambled for the entrance leading to the club’s main hall, their only hope of escaping the monster down the corridor.

Adam let them run. He looked at them for a single second. He then raised his pistols. The knife in his hand vanished, replaced by his second handgun. He carried a pistol in each hand. He opened fire.

The two silenced pistols let up a barrage of shots. The fleeing guys shook and staggered. One fell. Then another. Then all five were on the ground, their escape cut short by Adam’s savagely precise firing.

The passageway was suddenly silent save for Adam’s breathing. Everyone in the hallway had died.

He did not linger. He was certain that the sound of the falling bodies and the frightened yells before they died would have alerted the soldiers in the main hall. He had no intention of entering via the main corridor. That was a deadly trap. He realized there was another way in.

He turned and fled back the way he had come. He went with tremendous speed, a blur of motion flowing across the devastation he had just caused. He left the building through the main entrance, stepping over the dead of the guards he had killed earlier. He circled the building again.

He entered the club via a separate service entrance on the opposite side of the structure. This corridor was also full of men. They were gathered together, looking at each other confusedly. They heard the noise from the opposite side of the building, but they had no idea what was going on.

They saw Adam enter. Everyone turned to look at him, a lone schoolboy standing in the doorway. A uneasy stillness descended across the corridor. For a few seconds, no one moved or talked.

Before anyone could shout or react, Adam vanished.

He was not present one moment and gone the next. The men gazed about in surprise, their eyes darting back and forth attempting to figure out where he had gone.

Then they looked up.

Adam was on the ceiling. He was gliding along the walls, his feet finding grip on surfaces that should have been impossible to scale. He moved with an abnormal speed.

He paused slightly above them, near the ceiling. He was peering down upon them, like a hawk watching its prey.

Then he opened fire.

His handguns fired rounds into the throng. His motivation was straightforward. He needed to neutralize as many enemies as possible before entering the main hall.

He needed to save his ammunition for the actual battle with JokerX and his surviving mercenaries.

These men were a possible treat. They could sound the alarm and get in the way. In his cold, brutal calculation, they were a manageable loss. He would clear the board before to the last confrontation.

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We are so grateful to each and every one of you for joining the adventure! Your assistance is greatly appreciated. I appreciate each and every one of your Power Stones, which are like mana potions that keep me writing if you are enjoying the story.

Let us have some fun now! I want YOU in this world. The new signature technique is about to be named by our hero. What ought it to be called?

Leave your most inventive suggestions in the comments section! I will choose my favorite, and it will be included in the story’s canon with a special mention for you.

I am eager to read your insightful recommendations!

Alphaboss

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