Chapter 103: The Choir Traitor (3)
“Ahhhh!”
Chris’s scream echoed, but it wasn’t because he was scared by a little girl—it was because she had suddenly tightened her grip on his leg and, with a “crack,” crushed his ankle.
“I told you, with me here, you can’t escape.”
The demon-like girl declared, and in Chris’s bewildered and horrified gaze, she crouched and twisted, the scene instantly blurring. Next thing he knew, he was hoisted off the ground, describing a majestic arc in the air before crashing to the ground!
Boom—
The stone slabs shattered, fragments flying everywhere.
“Also, I hate people who only say half of what they mean…”
As Chris briefly drifted into darkness, he heard the girl’s voice becoming clearer.
She seemed to crouch beside him. Chris struggled to open his eyes, only to find half of his body embedded in the ground, bl**d gushing from his mouth in torrents.
“Hey.”
In his blurry vision, the small figure looked down at him, her long hair cascading down, hiding her expression: “Not dead, right?”
But her tone suggested she was worried he might actually d*e, immediately followed by a quiet murmur: “Is the Pope Knight really that weak? How strange… that shouldn’t be true.”
As she said this, she glanced at her bloodied little fist, squeezing it a few times as if questioning whether she had indeed applied too much force.
“Cough!”
“Cough, heh—”
Chris struggled to catch his breath.
Still alive…
“Hey, hehehe…”
Still alive, which meant he could feel the fiery sensation welling up in his chest, as if it might explode at any moment, the agonizing humiliation driving him mad.
He laughed hoarsely, his whole body trembling.
It had been over a decade.
From a lost, impoverished stray dog to a highly respected exceptional doctor, then to the Pope Knight Tulip, heir to the bloody thorny holy principles.
Since that rainy night when he killed his mother and joined the Choir of Saints, no one had ever made him feel this degraded and miserable again.
No one could…
No one could!
“What nonsense are you saying…”
Golden light swirled around him as Chris suddenly extended his arm and, like lightning, grabbed the girl’s hand—
“Who do you think I am?!”
Bang—
A strange, muffled thud erupted from Chris, whose face twisted in rage, followed by a bizarre black-green mist that exploded before the girl, rushing toward her!
With a swift motion, he grabbed her wrist and, with a “crunch,” shattered it. As she released his hand and he stood up, he was already stepping back with the Moon Step—at that instant, the girl reacted incredibly fast, retreating over twenty meters in less than a second.
However, even then, she accidentally got caught by that black-green mist.
Her brows furrowed slightly; expressionless, she raised her right hand and took a look.
In just an instant of contact, her palm and fingers began to turn black and swollen, the originally fair skin now a deep purple. The toxin had clearly entered her system and was spreading at an alarming rate.
Her frown deepened.
It hurt a bit…
Ahead, the toxic mist continued to rise, gradually enveloping the dilapidated buildings and roads, dispersing into the higher sky.
Tap, tap, tap… The sound of hard-soled boots striking the solid bluestone approached from the mist, and seconds later, Chris’s figure emerged from the toxic fog.
Still wearing those somewhat soiled clothes, his previously ragged doctor’s coat had mysteriously vanished.
Thick, bone-like protrusions jutted from his arms and calves, bursting from his back—not just bones, as a third, exceptionally muscular, beast-like arm had sprouted from his back. That hand, clenched into a fist, was larger than his head!
At that moment, Chris looked as if he had transcended the limits of “human”…
“Blackroot poison.”
He spoke, the black-green toxin bubbling forth from every hollow bone protruding from his body.
“You’ve heard of it, right? A deadly bl**d toxin from the northern part of the Eastern Continent. Just skin contact, and in ten minutes, all your organs will fail—divine miracles won’t help.”
The man smiled, a chillingly eerie grin: “Unless you have my specially formulated antidote powder. Sorry, the only bag I had, I already used myself.”
That smile was terrifyingly cold.
“I didn’t want to do this, because I loathe the sight of myself like this…”
Splash!
Charging through the rushing water, Chris hurtled toward the seemingly “stunned” girl. The force of the flowing water quickened his steps, and in a mere breath, he was right in front of her.
The third arm went “crack,” and two more bone spikes shot out of his palms, mercilessly crashing down toward the girl’s head!
“You forced my hand—”
Boom!
With colossal force, his arm swung down, and in that moment, the bluestone cracked, the girl’s feet driven deep into the ground. Yet, she didn’t even flinch, simply raising one arm to block Chris’s ferocious attack!
But there was more.
With a buzz, a point of divine healing light flared up again from Chris, as toxins scattered, and a fourth arm suddenly sprouted from his side, fist clenched, “Bang!” It slammed into the girl’s abdomen!
Unprepared, the girl was sent flying backward.
“Oh no…”
From the rooftop not far away, Rect watched the rising toxic fog below and murmured, “How do I feel like the little princess is about to get a real beating…”
“Boss, that looks like poison,” someone commented beside him.
“That’s blackroot powder mist.”
“d*mn, only the most sinister, dishonorable scumbags resort to poison in one-on-one fights…”
“This stuff won’t spread to the residential area, will it?”
“Shouldn’t. It can’t travel far.”
“Still, just in case, let’s have the perimeter prepare some defense… Hey, should we go help?”
Someone asked, but Rect waved them off: “Let’s wait and see.”
“I’m more curious about this doctor—what’s with his appearance… looks horrendous, has he been tampered with? Why has he changed so much…”
Boom—
Dust mingled with the poison spread across the ruined streets, the sounds of the ongoing battle below continued, the rhythm escalating. Chris swung his four arms, enveloped in lethal water and toxins, launching a furious onslaught against the girl, pressing forward as if he had her cornered.
“If it weren’t for my rush to leave—”
His fists rained down, narrowly dodged by the girl, a third straight punch followed, and as she raised her hand to block, retreating hurriedly, Chris’s foot came right after. Amidst the “swish-swish-swish” of their clash, the fourth arm, hidden at his side, morphed into a long whip, swinging towards the girl again.
“You think—”
With a loud “smack,” the powerful arm-whip was blocked by her palm, which pressed down firmly. Chris’s eyes turned fierce as he threw another punch at the girl’s face.
“You think—”
Humiliation, fury; at least in that moment, he was no longer thinking about retreating—if he left, he would make sure to trample this arrogant experiment underfoot first.
Do you really think you can easily defeat me!?
Yet those words caught in Chris’s throat, unable to escape.
He noticed the hand that was pressing down on his arm.
It was the same hand that had already been poisoned, but now, the toxin hadn’t spread further; the back of her hand had even returned to its fair complexion, her fingers delicate as jade, nowhere near showing any sign of having been poisoned.
