Chapter Forty-Three: The True Awakening

As the furious roar faded, thousands of sharp spikes on Zunye’s body suddenly shot out in all directions.

A mass ranged attack!

Mu You merely raised his arm to shield his eyes; he did not dodge. He wanted to witness, firsthand, the true level of a dangerous convict unleashing his full firepower.

The spikes pierced his body to a depth of one centimeter, and a searing pain radiated from the wounds. Lowering his arm, Mu You extracted a spike from the back of his hand. Once stained with his blood, the spike emitted a corrosive hiss and dissolved into a droplet of blood.

At that moment, the same phenomenon was occurring all over Mu You’s body—the spikes were expelled by his physique. But the other convicts weren’t so lucky; the spikes tore straight through their bodies, vanishing into the distance with undiminished force.

Bodies fell one after another, friend and foe alike!

“The ones left—slaughter those beasts from Floor Thirteen! Anyone who hesitates will be executed!” Zunye roared, leading the Sixth Floor convicts as they charged at Mu You.

Facing the tide of incoming convicts, Mu You stood firm. He knew that behind him were his severely wounded comrades, and he himself was their last hope. He could not let these men pass him. In that moment, a single word echoed in his heart:

Kill.

Nearly a hundred men on Zunye’s side clashed against Mu You alone. From afar, the scene was stark and gut-wrenching. Just then, another chorus of furious shouts erupted!

“Charge! Damn it, you think there’s no one left on Floor Thirteen?”

“Boss Mu, we’re coming! Smash those turtle bastards!”

“Sisters of the Night Squad, forward!”

Ahhh!

Thunderous cries mixed with the pounding of feet rang out behind Mu You. In that instant, he felt every pore open, a surge of emotion—relief, excitement, boundless courage—swelled in his chest, making his blood boil. That was—the sensation of his abilities returning!

Could it be that the manifestation of his powers was tied to his emotions?

Hatred for evil, the will to survive, the sight of comrades risking their lives for him, and the burning desire to respond—all fused together, erupting like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Mu You sensed his blood boiling, gathering at six points: his brow, chest, palms, and soles. A bloodthirsty impulse began to spread. His blood yearned to burst from his skin, struggling to connect with the outside world. At those six points, a flush of blood began to seep out.

Mu You let out a wretched cry toward the sky—it was his second time using his abilities, yet this time the pain was agonizing.

Zunye cared nothing for Mu You’s plight. With a stone fist bristling with spikes, he punched Mu You’s left chest, sending him tumbling like a cannonball, crashing into the entrance of the stone wall.

“Boss!” The convicts cried out in alarm, retreating to surround Mu You, forming a protective barrier, while some kept vigilant watch over the perimeter.

“Haha, did you see that? This is me using my abilities at full strength! Every one of you will die!” Zunye laughed.

“Shut your filthy mouth!” shouted the convicts from Floor Thirteen. Only a few Night Squad members stayed to check Mu You’s injuries; the rest charged at Zunye and the Sixth Floor convicts, buying time for Mu You.

“Struggling on the brink of death! Break!” Zunye spread his arms, blood spikes surged once more, shooting toward the advancing convicts. The one in front gritted his teeth, spread his arms wide to block the spikes, and shouted, “Brothers, use my corpse as a shield—carry me forward!”

The convicts beside him, eyes bloodshot and brimming with tears, lifted their fallen comrade’s cooling body, roaring as they pressed on, vowing to fight to the death and avenge their friend.

If Boss Mu died, the day would end in total defeat; better to fight with all they had, perhaps there was still hope!

Seeing dozens more convicts charging forward, Zunye ignored them, barreling into the crowd and wreaking havoc. Bodies flew, cries of agony echoed, and those felled were promptly finished off by the trailing Sixth Floor convicts.

“Die, scream, and howl—I have killed all my life, and that’s a fitting end!” As Zunye said this, six or seven convicts clung to him, letting the spikes impale them but refusing to let him advance.

“Foolish ants!” Zunye suddenly flexed, his muscles erupting with terrifying strength, snapping the convicts’ bodies in two. Blood rained down—a vision of hell.

Meanwhile, Mu You’s body burned as if engulfed in flames. The Night Squad could not even touch him, let alone examine his wounds; the heat would instantly scorch their skin, though there was no fire in sight.

“Blood... I need blood... so hot... so thirsty...” Mu You muttered.

The female convicts of the Night Squad wasted no words. Raising a hairpin, they slashed their wrists, enduring the burning pain as they let their blood drip into Mu You’s mouth.

“Thirsty? You won’t feel thirsty for long!” Zunye strode through the convicts, step by step toward Mu You.

The Night Squad women nodded to each other. Whoever became dizzy from blood loss would rush at Zunye, even if they were slapped aside, they would continue, like an assembly line, determined to delay him by even a second.

After striking down the last woman, Zunye was only a few meters from Mu You.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t interfere, Hulei,” Zunye said suddenly, turning to see Hulei standing behind him, his expression conflicted as he took up a battle stance.

“You think you can take me on with your abilities at this level? How little you must think of me!”

Zunye charged at Hulei, his spikes swelling and converging; in an instant, a dozen massive blood spikes appeared around him. Hulei held out for a moment, but was sent flying by Zunye, who pointed from afar and nailed Hulei to the stone wall with the blood spikes.

In that moment, no one was left to stop Zunye.

“Everyone here will die! Your lives belong to me, Zunye!”

The blood spikes soared upward, shooting toward the cave where Mu You lay.

“I’ll take your life first!” Zunye, now consumed by despair, found only murder could vent his rage.

But before the blood spikes could vanish into the cave, a sudden surge of heat vaporized them into nothingness!

Boom!!!

The natural rock wall of the fake mountain park cracked from the entrance outward; in less than a second, the whole wall exploded.

“Yours? What a joke...”

In the smoky night, a faint blood-red glow appeared. The instant it emerged, an absolute heat burned away all dust; impurities in the air rapidly diminished. Gradually, a graceful figure could be seen rising from the ruins. From the wound in his left chest unfurled a blood-colored wing of fire, over ten feet long. With a gentle shake, it swept away all debris with a gust of hot wind, clearing the scene completely.

Mu You now stood quietly, yet had become the center of the world. Eyes closed, bathed in blood-red light, he resembled a judge from hell, holding dominion over the fate of all things.

“What here could possibly belong to you...” he murmured, slowly opening his eyes. His right eye remained unchanged, but half of his left eye had turned black, and a lightning-shaped crack appeared above it, radiating a chilling bloodlust and cruelty.

“Oh yes, death—that belongs to you!”