Chapter 30

The Capital of Harrelson

Present. Sunday 6/5/119

Taking a deep breath, Ethan marched towards the destroyed doorway of Harrelson’s office. Returning to his eyes was the cold, violent look which had only disappeared for a moment upon Darrell’s death.

One more to go, he told himself.

Samuel Harrelson.

***

The commotion amongst the committee members, which was caused by the report heard through Darrell’s SDC, died down once the team of high ranking leashers exited the room to guard the doorway. This happened not as a result of them feeling secure, but rather because there was no need for talking. They awaited their fates in silence.

Understanding that should Ethan defeat the elite squad of leashers outside, there wasn’t a chance in hell for their survival.

The only way into the office was through the front door, so escape was impossible. They were cornered rats, but unlike the saying goes, they were not, in any considerable way, more dangerous.

The only one who didn’t understand this was Harrelson, who leaned against his wooden desk with a casual demeanor. There wasn’t a speck of tension on his face. Though the others hoped that maybe he was proficiently hiding his anxiety, when they considered his character, the notion that he firmly believed Ethan wouldn’t kill him didn’t seem unlikely.

Gerald scowled when thinking about it, but he turned his attention back towards the door as he hadn’t the time to worry about Harrelson’s misguided optimism.

“GAHHHH!”

Through the thick wooden door, they suddenly heard a loud scream, which caused them to flinch. They began murmuring to themselves, if only to alleviate their own tension.

The slightest noise had the capability of frightening them, and it was understandable. They were normal humans, and yet they were being targeted by a homicidal Awakened who possessed an incomprehensible hatred for them. The expression ‘scared shitless’ was an understatement in regards to their state of mind.

None of them had actually met Ethan face to face nor had they caused him any suffering. But after hearing the stories of his capabilities, personality and knowing the terrible things which were done to him, it was only natural that they would fear him. They were the associates of his tormentor. Common sense dictated that he would take revenge on them, and they would be helpless to stop him.

In this world, normal people learn quickly that it is foolhardy and outright injudicious to incur an Awakened’s wrath. Unfortunately, by association, they had done so.

Suddenly, a loud series of crashes resounded from outside and the vibrations from the impacts shook the entire office. Nervous sweats accumulated on the palms of the committee members who flinched at each impact.

Some rested their hands near their inside jacket pockets, which carried small, concealable pistols in case of an emergency. None of them had fired these pistols outside of a shooting range.

Then, the crashes stopped.

As the committee members listened with bated breath, the quiet which ensued was only filled with the sound of spiteful conversation happening outside, muffled by the thick wooden doors of the office.

As the volume of the conversation grew louder, the hatred imbued in the participants' tones flared. It was clear to those listening that a clash was imminent.

BAM!

A gunshot rang out, and the committee members reflexively wrapped their fingers around the handles of their pistols, itching to pull them from their pockets and shoot.

But before they could react …

BOOOOOOOM!

The thick office doors suddenly exploded inwards, scattering wooden debris throughout the office. The shockwave which caused this propelled the furniture backwards towards the far wall from the door and blasted the entire committee off their feat.

The only person left standing was Harrelson, who had both the reaction time to brace himself for the impact and the strength to keep standing once the shockwave hit.

As he stared out the crumbled doorway, he saw Ethan standing over his trusted Head Leasher, Darrell. Well, at least what was left of him. His head and upper half of his torso were eradicated. The only identifiable aspect about the corpse was the utility belt which Darrell always wore.

Harrelson silently watched Ethan, taking in his form. The young man stared down at Darrell, snarling in anger as he squeezed his bloody fist. He was covered with copious amounts of blood which dripped from his body and stained his clothes.

He held the appearance of carnage and death incarnate. Harrelson was too enamored to understand that such a cataclysmic sight spelled doom for himself and everyone in the room.

As Ethan burned the blood off of his skin, the committee members scrambled to their feet, some slower than others due to their age, and quickly pulled their pistols. They pointed them directly at Ethan as they advanced towards the door.

One would think it wiser to stay back and shoot from afar, given how dangerous he was, but the closer they were to their target, the better the chance of shooting him.

They knew, with Awakened speed, it was possible for him to dodge if they gave him the distance to react. This was not a feat which a lower tiered Awakened could perform, but they understand that Ethan was not of the lowered tiers.

As the 10 stood aiming at the door, with Harrelson in the back of their group since he didn’t possess a gun to fire, they cocked the hammers back on their pistols. The sound of this drew Ethan’s attention to their presence and away from the blood evaporating off his skin.

“Ethan Blade!” Gerald yelled. “If you step one foot in this room, we will put you down. I swear on god’s name!”

Harrelson’s eyes widened with shock and betrayal. “What?! No! Do not kill him! I want him alive!”

“This is not the time for your bullshit!” one of the committee members yelled.

“You shoot him and I’ll kill you myself!”

The committee members, keeping their pistols raises, turned their heads to glare at the unreasonable conqueror who led them. Harrelson held steadfast in front of these glares, unwilling to compromise or give in.

But then, a voice came from their front.

“‘On God’s name?’” the voice asked in an ice cold tone as he walked through the destroyed doorway. “That’s a pretty specific declaration. I didn’t consider that a piece of shit like you might be religious.”

Under Ethan’s chilling gaze, the temperature in the room seemingly plummeted as the committee members felt their hearts sink with fear. It was in situations like these that his red eyes, pale skin and vampiric aura were played to the greatest effect. Even without those qualities, the Geinta he naturally emitted created a pressure in the room which made their instincts scream out to run.

“That’s right. I swear on God's name that we’ll remove the devil that you are from this world.”

“I’m a devil? Wow. This place seems to never exhaust its supply of narcissistic hypocrisy. I thought I might change my mind once I met you all, but no. My decision to kill you all isn’t a mistake.”

“As if we’ll let you!”

“NO! WAIT!”

Harrelson yelled out, hoping to bring his men under control. However, before any of them could pull the trigger, Ethan suddenly appeared behind the group, a mere two feet away from Harrelson's body.

“Wha …?”

Harrelson, confusedly, took a step back, unable to comprehend how Ethan came so close so quickly. He barely saw him move. And then …

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

Not a second later, the 10 committee members dropped dead onto the floor, every one of their heads twisted a full 180 degrees around with broken necks. The faces of the heads were disfigured, as if they had been hit with extreme force.

“H-how did …”

Ethan calmly looked back at the sight which Harrelson’s eyes laid upon. If anyone had been watching his face, they’d have seen nothing more than his eyebrows rise a small bit in surprise. A trace of zero remorse in his eyes.

Everyday, I’m discovering just how easy it is to kill regular human beings. To think, all it took was a small nudge to completely twist their heads like that.

He then turned back around to Harrelson, who still stares flabbergasted at the sight of his committee murdered.

“How ... did you do tha…”

Hmm? Could his eyes not keep up? Even his leasher’s outside were able to see me with that level of speed.

Ethan said none of this out loud and continued to wait silently for the other to calm himself. As he waited, he studied Harrelson’s face. The same face which tormented him for months, and even longer in his dreams. His blood red eyes burned with an agonizing amount of hatred for this man.

Harrelson, finally closing his mouth, took a deep breath and attempted to calm down. Soon enough, after a moment, his trademark arrogant look returned to his face.

“You killed them, Ethan,” Harrelson finally said, a scowl of contempt forming on his face. “Do you have any idea how pissed I am?”

“Why should I give a fuck what you feel?”

“You should! I own you! Now stop being a damn brat and behave!”

“Wrong,” Ethan proclaimed, his voice steady and bathed in fury. “You only own the chains that kept me prisoner.”

“I’m warning you! Stand down now!”

Harrelson, having reached the limit of his temper, lunged forward and threw a right hook at Ethan’s face.

Time slowed down for Ethan, who looked at the pathetic, strained face of the sick bastard who was throwing the punch.

Casually, he placed his left hand in the fist’s trajectory and raised his index finger.

BAM!

The fist slammed straight into Ethan’s face - or at least, it should have. A full power punch from Harrelson was stopped in its tracks by a lone index finger.

The finger looked neither swollen nor bent a wrong direction, and the expression of Ethan’s face was a mocking smirk. He had stopped it with ease.

Harrelson’s eyes looked as if they were pried open as they were wide enough for one to think his eyeballs would pop out. He immediately tried to pull his arm back, but Ethan quickly grabbed a hold of the blocked fist and held it in place with a grip like a vice.

Harrelson tried to yank his arm back, but he found the task impossible. The grip on his fist was continually growing tighter and tighter to the point where his face was flinching with pain.

“Geh!”

“Does it hurt? Good.”

Tighter and tighter. Harrelson’s screams became louder and louder alongside. And then …

Crack!

“GAHHHH!”

His fingers and knuckles broke under the intense pressure. Harrelson gave a wild, agony filled cry as he writhed in pain. Unable to stand it, he used his other hand to try and pound Ethan in the face in an attempt to escape his grip, but before that strike could reach …

Another crack!

“FAAAAAAHH!”

This time, the smaller bones in his hand were crushed. His desperate punch never connected with Ethan’s face, and instead, he dropped to the ground, unable to bear the pain whilst on his feet.

“You're not really accustomed to pain, are you? Even that scar on your cheek must’ve been a cakewalk compared to this.”

Ethan then leaned in closer to Harrelson, their faces merely inches apart. He wanted Harrelson to experience this pain while only seeing his face. He desired it to be personal.

“Don’t worry, Harrelson. I can help you get acquainted with agony.”

Crunch!

“YAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Exerting his entire strength into his grip, he crushed Harrelson's hand like a bag of twigs. The fragmented bones stuck through his skin and the veins popped, causing blood to pool atop the muscles. His hand looked like a purple and red crumpled glove. It barely resembled a hand at all.

As he screamed, blood dripped onto the ground. Seeing this, for a slight moment, a look of surreality entered his eyes. However, since the pain of the injury matched its gruesome appearance, his brain quickly accepted it as reality. His scream intensified.

Ethan raised his right hand across his body, curled his fist, and delivered a back-handed blow to Harrelson’s face.

The kinetic energy was transmitted through Harrelson’s body and into the floor, cracking the baseboards. Though the strike would originally send him flying backwards at an incredible speed, Ethan’s grip on his hand prevented that.

Blood flew from Harrelson’s mouth, splattering across the floor. His breathing became ragged and he glared up at Ethan with intense scorn.

“I’ll … kill you for this.”

“Really? After all that about keeping me alive, now you threaten to kill me.” Ethan reached forward and grabbed Harrelson’s head. “I don’t believe you but it's progress. Making empty threats out of desperation. You're finally understanding your situation for what it is.”

His grip tightened around Harrleson’s skull as he drove a knee into his face. The impact once again damaged the floor and sent a few teeth flying. His nose also did not escape unscathed either, having been indented and bent to the side. Blood once again dripped onto the floor.

“Guuh …”

Harrelson let out a groan of pain and the willpower in his eyes seemed to dim ever so slightly. This did not go unnoticed and Ethan cracked a slight smile at the sight.

“There. Now you know how I felt. Trying to stay defiant while helpless is almost impossible.”

Still gripping Harrelson’s now crushed right hand, Ethan lifted him by his arm so that their faces were near the same level.

“You quickly learn to give up and roll with the punches.”

He then delivered a solid open palm strike to Harrelson’s chest while releasing the grip on his hand. Harrelson’s body was sent flying backwards into the solid oak wall behind him.

Crash!

Harrelson’s body bounced off the wall and onto the floor, the impact causing him to cough up small droplets of blood. The wall almost crumbled upon collision but luckily he smashed straight into a steel support beam, which left the wall with a massive crack instead of its entire destruction.

Ethan was surprised that Harrelson didn’t smash into the next room, as that was his intent, but it mattered little. He stepped closer to Harrelson and stared down at him.

“Question. Why are you so fixated on me? I thought your preference was kids.”

“Y-your ... an exception,” he answered while fighting back a coughing fit.

“Why?”

“You never once broke. You survived through my treatment. Not to mention you're the one who literally got away. How could you not occupy a special place in my heart?”

“Your heart? As if you have one.”

His mental depravity knew no bounds. Ethan lightly delivered a kick to his head, which caused him to clutch it while writhing on the ground.

Ethan then produced a shockwave from his hand which cleared the furniture and debris away from the back wall, shoving it towards the corner. This way, he had more space to work with.

Leaving Harrleson on the ground, he walked over to Darrel’s corpse and frisked his body. Strapped to a utility belt on his back were a pair of Giovantine handcuffs that Darrell had likely prepared to capture Ethan with.

“Here we go.”

Nabbing the cuffs, he quickly cleared the corpses from the hallway and office, piling them in the corner of the room. He then trotted back over to Harrelson, who was about to stand up once more, and grabbed him by the hair.

Eyeing the newly cleared wall space, he dragged the writhing Harrelson over to there and roughly threw him against the wall.

“Fuck you.”

Harrelson tried to stand up after being thrown, but he found himself unable to do so as Ethan put his foot on his chest and pressed down. The force exerted by Ethan’s leg pinned Harrelson to the ground, as well as easily cracking the solid wood floor beneath him.

“Gehhhh!”

“Shut the fuck up. I know this isn't enough pressure to cause you any real harm.”

He increased the force exerted by his leg, causing the web-like crack under Harrelson to grow.

While Harrelson struggled under his foot, he quickly grabbed his two arms and cuffed them together, making the cuff tighter around Harrleson’s crushed right hand.

Finally removing his foot from Harrelson’s chest, Ethan picked him up by the neck with a single arm and pinned him against the wall.

With a hand gripping his throat, Harrelson stared back at Ethan and snarled. The sound which came from his mouth was akin to the growl of a wild animal.

He attempted to speak but found the task impossible. In fact, he could barely even breath, which was strange. He could tell that Ethan wasn’t exerting much strength into squeezing his throat, and instead merely being held up by the neck was blocking his windpipe.

That shouldn’t have been happening. Not if he was an Awakened.

Ethan could read the confusion in his eyes.

“It’s disconcerting, isn’t it. Your power being drained out of you.”

Harrelson furrowed his brows in puzzlement, but only for a moment. He aimed his sight downwards at his wrists and found a pair of Gio cuffs on them. Realising that they were the same cuffs used during the containment of Awakened slaves, his eyes widened with terror, anger and humiliation. The prideful narcissist was being treated like the slaves he owned.

His face grew red from suffocation and he began gasping for air. But nothing could pass through his airway without Ethan removing his hand.

“In hindsight,” Ethan began. “I was an idiot to be scared of the place. The last remanence of my weakness, I suppose. I know now, in my core, that you were never stronger than me.”

He leaned towards Harrelson’s face, his voice growing colder, deeper and more sinister the longer he talked.

“I always knew that, but my subconscious wouldn’t believe it. It refused to believe that if I wasn’t in cuffs or a collar, I could’ve killed you. You, one of my greatest tormentors. But now I’m stronger than you could possibly imagine. Not even your Gio cuffs can stop me now, but they work just fine on you. So tell me, how does it feel to be powerless?”

He couldn’t answer. Even if he tried, his voice wouldn’t come out. As his consciousness began to fade, Ethan finally released his grip.

Harrelson inhaled a large amount of air and quickly began a coughing fit. He raised his cuffed hands to his throat and massaged the area around his windpipe.

He looked back at Ethan and noticed something strange. He hadn't dropped to the ground, despite being released from his grasp. He was on the verge of passing out from a lack of oxygen, so logically he wouldn't've had the strength to stand, especially with the Gio cuffs.

That when he noticed. His body wasn’t actually being supported by his legs. Sure, his feet were touching the ground, but there was no weight on them. He tried to step away from the wall and found himself unable to pull away.

Gazing around, on his sides, he noticed a plethora of white translucent threads holding him to the wall. He attempted to pull away again and saw that those threads were indeed somehow holding him. They weren’t piercing his skin nor the wall, so his confusion over their ability to restrict his movements was understandable.

Since he had zero ability to move his torso, he assumed that his shoulders and back were, like his lats and underarms, threaded to the wall as well. Though he couldn’t turn his head enough to confirm that was the case, either way, he was stuck.

“The fuck are these …”

But he stopped his question short. He jerked his head back towards Ethan, who stood there quietly, without any sign of puzzlement over the threads.

“You did this?” he asked, but a sudden realization struck him. “Oh fuck, no … don’t tell me! Are … are you a Geinta Master?!”

“Technically I’m not a real master. I haven’t perfected my energy control yet but … yes. Those threads are mine.”

Harrelson went silent. He stared in bewilderment and had much the same look as Melissa when she discovered that fact.

“Do you understand now why I dared to come back? Oh wait, you fucking don’t, do you? You still think I’m yours. Even after all of this.”

“You are mine! I fucking own you! I bought you!”

“On paper, yes. You own me. But looking at this situation, can you still claim to be my master?”

Ethan, using precise manipulation of his threads, turned Harrelson over so that his chest was against the wall.

The position was incredibly precarious for Harrelson. His back was exposed and he was forced to turn his head in order to see what was happening behind himself. His limited range of vision and motion caused him to grow frantic.

He’s panicking already?

“You're pathetic,” Ethan stated bluntly. “Do you know how many of your slaves have been in this exact same position?”

Harrelson immediately understood his intentions. His breathing became more sporadic and he desperately began struggling to break free.

“Would you like to experience the pain they did? The pain I did?”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Of course you wouldn’t. No sane person would fucking want that.”

Ethan extended his arm and began to pool his Geinta in the center of his palm. As it pooled, the energy began to take shape. At first, it looked like a small pole, but as it extended further, it took on a thinner, snake-like appearance. Eventually, once the tip was created, the Geinta-created object looked very familiar.

[Creation Geinta]

The object was a whip. A long, glowing white whip which seemed to bend and twist to Ethan’s will. After all, it was his own energy which created it. It’s only naturally that the whip would feel like an extension of himself.

A bit of blood dripped from Ethan’s nose, which he causally wiped away with his index finger. He looked down at his now bloody finger and raised his brows in slight surprise.

Guess creating a whip overworked my brain a bit.

Creation geinta is the ability to literally create objects out of your own energy. To do so requires precise calculations or a high vivid imagination, not to mention precise control over your Geinta.

For someone like Ethan, who has meager control over creation geinta, it demands a massive amount of concentration in order for him to wield it.

Unlike with the threads or bands which tie people down, the blade which he can summon on his hand or his energy shield, a whip is a flexible object which is made from many strands woven together. To add on top of this, it must be sturdy enough to actually use.

For someone of his skill level, it was too straining, especially since much of his concentration was already allocated towards maintaining the threads pinning Harrelson to the wall.

Harrelson, barely able to turn his head around to see, spotted the white glowing whip in Ethan’s hand and began to panic. His struggling intensified and the anger in his eyes was replaced with fear.

“Don’t! Ethan, stop this right now!”

Ethan’s face flinched, enraged at the pathetic display of Harrelson’s cowardice. He couldn’t even take the same punishment as those he owned.

“And why should I listen to you?”

“I own you! I made you submit! You can’t torture your own master! Get me down from here or I swear I WILL BREAK YOU!”

“Break? Back to not wanting to kill me, I see.”

The pitiful, empty threats of a cornered rat. At the moment, he couldn’t so much as turn his body, let alone harm anyone.

“‘I made you submit,’ huh?” Ethan quoted him back. “See, I remember it quite differently. I remember you frustrated beyond all hell that you couldn’t get me to do exactly that.”

Ethan began walking closer, whipping the ground as a scare tactic. The ensuing loud crack caused Harrelson to jump.

“W-wha …? Please! I beg you! Don’t do this!”

“You know, you might’ve beaten me. Broken me down physically and psychologically. Tormented me to the point where I … I begged for death. Where I was disgusted to live in my own body. But I never once begged for mercy. Not from you. Never from you. So shut your fucking mouth a before break your jaw.”

CRACK!

“GAHHHHH!”

The whip tore across his back, shredding the clothes on his back and the skin underneath. A long, painful gash appeared dead center between his shoulder and began bleeding. His body squirmed and writhed in agony as he released howls of pain.

Ethan, realising he was too hasty, walked up and yanked the now shredded collared shirt and suit jacket off Harrelson’s body. He threw the torn pieces of clothing to the side and stepped back once again, readying his whip.

“Again!”

CRACK!

“GAAAHH!

A second slash created another laceration on his back, slightly overlapping with the first. His scream was louder than the first and he began struggling harder to break free. If he possessed his regular strength, he could either rip the Geinta-created bands or break apart the wall to escape, but with the Gio cuffs on, he was left absolutely defenseless.

A third whip. A fourth whip. A fifth whip. Each gash deeper than the last as Ethan grew accustomed to using the weapon.

Harrelson’s every breath sounded like a painful grunt. His pain threshold was clearly low. Even lower than that of an average citizen.

“It’s too bad really,” Ethan started saying. “Though you have strength, you're nothing but an absolute pussy. Let me guess, you inherited your strength instead of gaining it yourself.”

Harrelson didn’t answer, but Ethan interpreted his silence as a yes.

“Who in your family tree was an Awakened? Your dad, or maybe grandfather? Hell, was it your Mom? But you don’t seem like the type to have grown up around a strong female presence. You’re far too misogynistic.”

The ability to become an Awakened is a mutation in the DNA. Though only a select few had it hundreds of years ago, in the present almost every human has the ability to become an Awakened should they experience a stressful enough event. Stressful meaning either metally or physically.

However, if someone does become an Awakened and then works to advance their strength to a greater height, the mutation in their DNA, which causes the affinity for Geinta, consequently increases.

However, if someone does become an Awakened and then works to advance their strength to a greater height, their DNA becomes even more mutated. Then, if that person has children, their now super-mutated DNA is passed on, allowing their offspring to have greater potential then they originally did.

Because of his grandfather’s hard work, Harrelson and his father were able to become third tiers without much effort. However, because of their lack of effort, they never grew stronger either.

“Anyways, all of that time taking your strength for granted has come back to bite you in the ass.”

Ethan then proceeded to deliver another strike across Harrelson’s back.

Upon doing so, Harrelson began crying. Tears fell from his eyes and mixed with the blood on the side of his face. Ethan was honestly not surprised at the sight. Even he cried a little during his first flogging.

During his sobs, Harrelson started mumbling. “First my crops, then Rose Corp, and now you! Fuck! Nothing is going right!”

“Heh,” Ethan let out a chuckle. “So Rose Corp backed out on you or something? Sounds rough.” His voice couldn’t carry more sadistic sarcasm if he tried.

“That fucking bastard Collins will pay!”

“Pay? You won’t be alive to … Collins?”

Ethan froze as his eyes widened and his mouth gaped open. He repeated the name under his breath, trying to see if he had heard it right.

His voice then was flooded with an intense amount of hatred.

“What the fuck was the bastard doing here?”

“What? You know him? Mister fucking President had to come in person to tell me that he’s abandoning me! ME! How dare he do that to me!”

Ethan took a step back, recollecting his thoughts.

So he took over for his Father, huh? Oh good, nothing had happened to him all these years. Now I’ll know where to find him when the time comes to kill him. Guess I’ll be taking a trip to Rose Kingdom.

Harrelson tried turning his head a bit more. “So, you hate him too? Perfect. Let me go. You and I can work together to kill that motherfucker.”

This suggestion snapped Ethan back to reality, causing him to give a scornful chuckle.

“Nice try, but I wouldn’t work with you if my life was at stake. Besides, you're useless in a fight. I know a sixteen year old kid more capable than you.”

Ethan recollected himself and walked up towards Harrelson. He leaned in and began whispering in his ear.

“But I agree. Your day is going terribly. To make it worse, I’ll let you in on a little secret. That kid, the one you handed my bounty reward over to. He’s my partner.”

“W-wha…” the color drained from Harrelson’s face.

“I thank you for raising my bounty. It’s just that much more I’m able to steal from you.”

Though Ethan understood the importance of money, in this case, he didn’t care in the slightest about it. Instead, he just enjoyed stealing from Harrelson and playing him for a fool.

Another crack resounded inside the office as the whip once again lacerated his skin. As he jerked his head from the pain, tears flew from his cheeks and blood dripped from his back.

***

Crack!

The twentieth whip slashed across Harrelson's back. Merciless and unrelenting, Ethan flogged his back. The glow of the white energy whip had been tainted by a coat of blood which had accumulated near its tip.

Ethan had begun to enjoy the process a little too much. Not that he experienced ecstasy with each swing, rather, he experienced relief. He was slowly letting go of the grudge he had carried for years.

The life in Harrelson's eyes had left as he teetered on the verge of unconsciousness. He barely even squirmed when whipped anymore. His state of being was quite familiar to Ethan, and thus he held zero sympathies.

Even I did better than this, and I was only sixteen at the time.

Thinking about the pathetic sight in front of him, he swung his arm once again and lacerated Harrelson’s back. As the whip peeled another line of skin off his back, his body slightly twitching before falling limp. Ethan furrowed his eyebrows at the sight and sensed Harrelson’s Geinta to check his state.

He had fallen unconscious.

This fucker …

Ethan quickly approached him and set a hand against Harrelson’s bloodied, shredded back. He slightly praised his flogging skills upon inspecting the wounds.

“Oh no. You don’t get to fall asleep yet. We’re not done.”

Ethan lined his palm with a particular type of Enhancement Geinta which accelerates the healing processes. He used this skill on one of the twins during the Riverdale park battle. It stops the bleeding and quickly creates a new layer of skin over the injury.

[Cell Growth Enhancement]

However, the problem with the technique is that it's for survival purposes only, not for true medical treatment. After all, it bypasses the natural healing process.

Ethan pumped his Geinta into Harrelson’s wounds. When he did so, a gnarly sizzling sound accompanied the sight of rapidly growing skin over the wounds. This process, gruesome as it is, becomes even worse when considering one fact.

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

It’s extremely painful. It feels equivalent to cauterizing a wound with a flame.

Harrelson, who had been unconscious, immediately awoke as if someone splashed cold water on him. He opened his eyes only to experience by far the worst pain of his life. A burning sensation permeated his back all the way down to his very soul. His blood curdling screams echoed off the wooden walls and down the hall.

Ethan removed his hand from his back, to find a horrid-looking layer of fresh skin. It could hardly be called healthy. Scratch that, it flat out couldn’t.

Ethan moved his hand from Harrlson’s back to his head, where he grabbed a handful of the man’s hair. Harrelson’s head jerked back as he let out a small yip from Ethan’s sudden action.

“You can’t fall asleep yet, I haven’t paid you back for every whip I’ve taken.”

“I never whipped you!” Harrelson desperately cried.

“Well I was going to perform this on Darrel but I killed him too quickly. I actually planned to castrate you as a form of revenge, but I decided against it. Even I wouldn’t find that cathartic.”

Harrelson stayed silent. Seeing this, Ethan continued to work.

“Well, I don’t remember how many whips I took, but it was well over 80. So, we’ll just go until 80, or until I’ve released all of my pent up anger. Either way, we’re nowhere near done so don’t pass out yet. Beating a dead horse is no fun, after all.”

“F-fuck you …”

“That’s the spirit.”

He raised his arm once again to swing the whip. As he did so, he detected the presence of two people standing in the doorway. It was a bit shameful that they were able to get this close without him noticing but he forgave himself, considering how much he’s been concentrating on the task at hand.

Before he turned around to find out the reason for their presence, he swung his arm one more time to deliver another whip to Harrelson’s back.

“AAAHH!”

However, what he heard was completely unexpected.

“Daddy!”

As he slowly turned his head, he saw a toddler of around three years of age. The child was being restrained from running over by his Mother, who looked on at the events taking place in horror.

Harrelson turned his head around as far as he could. Out of his peripheral vision, he could barely make out the figures of his wife and son.

“W-what the hell … are you guys doing here?” he asked while short of breath.

“We heard gunshots and …”

She stopped talking halfway through, still attempting to comprehend the situation. Her husband was strung against the wall with horrid scarring and injury on his back, while an unknown man stood holding a bloodied whip made of white light. She could clearly see he was an enemy and thought of running away, but she hesitated to leave her husband behind.

Due to her frightened state, she was unintentionally clutching her child with all her might, which was quite painful for the child to endure.

Seeing her son flinch in pain, she inadvertently jolted and released her grip on him. When that happened, the child immediately bolted over, with zero sense of danger, to Harrelson.

Though kids usually aren’t this obvious, Ethan, as opposed to an oncoming truck or an attacking beast, did not look scary in the child’s eyes, and thus he did not register as a ‘bad guy.’

“Charlie!” the Mother cried out.

Ethan watched the little guy walk right past him as he crossed the room with his small, uncoordinated legs. Once he reached Harrelson, who was hanging off the wall, he pulled on his Father’s pant leg.

“D-daddy? Are you okay?”

The child asked this having been scared upon hearing his Father’s screams. Though Harrelson wasn’t the best Father, he never once did anything for the boy to be scared of him, which is surprising to say the least.

Because of this, the three year old loved his Father and no child in that frame of mind would be able to stay quiet while their parent screamed in pain.

The boy’s mother, upon seeing him run over, had immediately scrambled to grab her child, but had frozen when he trotted past Ethan, the dangerous intruder in their home. This gave the child enough time to reach Harrelson and ask that question before the Mother caught up to him.

Having also ran past Ethan to reach her kid, scared for her family’s life, she hugged her child from behind and attempted to coddle him away from Ethan as much as possible. As she crouched down and hugged him, she placed her back and shoulder between Ethan and her child, holding him in a defensive, protective position.

Lastly, a desperate ‘stay the fuck away’ glare was aimed at Ethan, which caused him to flinch slightly.

“Charlie, sweety, stay still, alright?”

Charlie nodded his head, which was buried in his Mother’s embrace. Ethan could tell that the kid had zero clue as to what was going on.

He stared at this scene, flabbergasted. This was not how he had envisioned this moment playing out. The sudden appearance of Harrelson’s family added an unknown element which he was not prepared for. If they were guards or leashers, than he would have zero qualms with killing them as quickly as possible, but a frightened woman and a defenseless child running into the room left him unable to move. Killing them would leave a bad taste in his mouth.

He took in a deep breath and calmed himself before taking his next step, literally. As he took a step closer, the Mother shuffled away on her knees, continuing to glare viciously.

“Don’t fucking come near my son!”

“Don’t let your son near me in the first place, lady.” He took two more steps forward and stopped. “Don’t freak. I’m not going to harm your kid.”

It’s not that Ethan had a soft spot for children, it's just that his goal wasn’t to kill a child, even if that child was the son of Harrelson.

“W-why are you doing this?”

“Because your husband deserves to die. Plain and simple.”

Her eyes widened and the fear on her face grew. She could tell that this was not a man whom she could reason with.

Ethan took another step forward.

“Move.”

She didn’t. She didn’t move an inch, which confused Ethan slightly. If she wanted to protect her child so badly, wouldn’t she follow his orders?

She and her son were right in the way of the whip's trajectory, and if they refused to budge, no matter how good Ethan’s control was, they would likely be hit if he continued Harrelson’s punishment. He grew frustrated at their interference.

“I said move! Unless you want to stay where you are and risk being whipped along with your husband!”

Hearing his yells, she eventually scurried off to the side of the room with her son still in her arms. Ethan could hear the boy lightly sobbing on his Mother’s shoulder, likely because the sight of a bloodied Harrelson had scared him.

Speaking of Harrelson, he was awfully quiet considering his family was just in danger. Ethan stared at the man, wondering what was going on in his head.

“I had heard that you had a son. Too bad his father turned out to be a real piece of shit.”

“To torture a man in front of his family is utterly abhorrent,” Harrelson finally said.

Ethan’s expression darkened. “As if you haven't done worse. Stop trying to use your family to save yourself!”

Crack!

“Dahhhh!”

Ethan created another laceration on Harrelson’s back, causing him to scream out. Ethan, out of the corner of his eye, saw his family flinch and turn away at the sight. Charlie began to cry audibly and the worry in his wife’s eyes intensified.

“Stop! Please! This is evil! Let my husband go, please!”

She said something which Ethan cannot overlook. He turned his head back towards her, his fierce gaze seeming piercing her very soul.

“Evil? This is evil?”

He took a few steps towards her. “Do you see me as evil right now?”

She lowered her gaze, realising she had angered him somehow. However, her silence accomplished that even more so.

“Well?!”

“Y-yes…”

“I see. Well, you're not wrong. What I’m doing right now is evil, and that’s why I’m doing it. I remember you, Mrs. Harrelson. I remember the way you look at the slaves he owns. You don’t care about them. You don’t care that what I’m doing to your husband has been done to thousands of his slaves. If what I’m doing now is evil, then what does that make either of you?”

“I-I just …”

“What? Ignored it? Took this life of luxury for granted? Guess what? Your happy life was built upon on the mistreatment, enslavement and murder of thousands. There are people, not tools, but people, that are out there right now laboring away and being treated like garbage because of this man.”

His pointed Harrelson, his face full of uncontainable rage.

“What is evil, Mrs. Harrelson? Is it the act of hurting others? Then almost everyone I know would be evil. I would be as well because I can take a life without any remorse. But none of my actions have directly caused the suffering of those who did not deserve it.”

He released the energy whip in his hand and it faded away, turning into white Geinta particles before dissipating into thin air.

“My definition of an evil person is when a person intentionally causes harm to others because they enjoy it. Corrupt and bad people are one thing. I myself am one of them. But evil is different. When dealing with an evil person, there’s no option for redemption. They will never change and will continue to perform bad acts no matter the circumstances.

I’m not evil,” he continues, “Because I’m a creation of undeserved suffering. Despite being a killer, I slaughter with a cause and I never kill an innocent. The man who captured and sold me into slavery isn’t evil. He most likely needed a job and found that human trafficking pays well. He’s just a product of the system. The leasher’s of this territory aren’t evil either. They are just doing what they were taught to do. And you, Mrs. Harrelson, why did you marry this piece of shit. Why did you marry and have a kid with him despite everything he’s done.

“T-to protect mysel …”

“To protect yourself. A worthy cause. You were raised in the Capital?”

“Y-yes.”

“A defenseless woman in a lawless Territory like this? In a capital city where a large portion of the population are barbaric men trained by their Government to dominate and subjugate people. The fear for your life and safety is understandable. You're not evil. But ask yourself, who is responsible for the lawlessness and barbarian-like culture that put you at risk in the first place? Who enabled the leasher’s to act this way? Who propagated and funded the system of slavery which paid that human trafficker? Who raped and killed many young slaves for his own sick and twisted entertainment?! Who assigned incompetent losers the position of town lord and caused the decay of small towns like Border Town, where the citizens are hungry enough to attack and kill a man just for the chance to feed their families?!”

Ethan once again pointed at Harrelson.

“Him! You want to know my definition of evil?! Evil is when a sick, twisted, privileged fuck decides to trample over the lives of thousands without a second thought! Evil is when a man rapes and kills an eleven year old boy and then continues to employ his Father as if nothing happened! But you call me evil?! No! I’m not evil! I’m just a man ridding the world of a shit stain who should have never been born!”

Finally finished, having poured out every last thought and feeling on the subject, the usually quiet and reserved Ethan realised his own lapse in character and took a step back. His breathing had accelerated and his heart rate had skyrocketed. He closed his eyes slightly and took a deep breath to calm himself.

I can’t seem to control my temper. It’s this territory. It’s driving me insane.

Counting to five, he reopened his eyes and stared directly at Mrs. Harrelson and her son. He had managed to quell some of the rage which was present on his face a moment ago. A rage which scared Mrs. Harrelson so terribly, she almost stopped breathing. The actual physical pressure a 7th tier Awakened exerts when angry is no joke.

“Leave,” he said coldly. “I’m no longer in the mood to torture your husband. You’ve put quite the damper on that. The only thing left is for me to kill him.”

“No please! You can’t! Me and my boy won’t survive! We have nothing!”

In a situation like this, where the government is extremely informal and the laws are lax, her and her son would not be entitled to inheritance. Though the Territory has been run by three generations of Harrelson’s, they all willingly stepped down and trained their sons to take over. In this instance, neither she or the boy were fit to lead, and thus their fates were uncertain.

“I’m doing the world a favor by killing him. I can’t reconsider just because I pity you and your son.”

Ethan, as he finished saying this, turned towards the door, sensing two more approaching.

I guess two more will be joining us. Wait, this Geinta signature feels familiar.

Arriving at the collapsed doorway was Melissa, and directly behind her was a patroller who was aiming a pistol at her head. He walked as far behind her as possible, his arm fully extended with the pistol pressed against the back of her skull.

The patroller entered the room carefully, weary after seeing the carnage outside. Walking past blood covered walls that were wrecked to hell and a damaged doorway, he had every right to be nervous.

“Boss, are you … shit!” Seeing the situation, with a bloodied Harrelson strapped to a wall while his family cowered in a corner and Ethan standing in the center, he had zero idea as to how to deal with this predicament. Keeping the gun against her head, he pressed his body against her back in an attempt to use her as a hostage or a shield if need be.

“Let the boss go now!”

“Or what?” Ethan asked, annoyed at this person’s presence. “A hostage? How do you know she’s worth anything to me? Wouldn’t it be better just to shoot me quickly?”

“Don’t bother! She’s already confessed you were the one that broke her collar. I know you know her! And since you're strong enough to beat the boss, I know a gun won’t work on you!”

“So a hostage … huh? I guess there’s always one henchman who can think fast.”

Ethan turned his attention to Melissa’s face. They’re eyes locked together and he gave her a comforting nod. Seeing this, her face relaxed a little, signalling she would let him take care of it.

Right before her eyes, Ethan vanished and she heard a loud crunch. Flinching upon hearing it, she then noticed the pressure of the gun against her skull lightened and the barrell moved away from her scalp.

Thud!

She slowly turned around to see that patroller dead at her feet, his neck broken and his eyes empty of life. Next to him stood Ethan, who had broken his neck with a single flick of the wrist. He picked up the pistol which the patroller was using to threaten Melissa with.

She looked at Ethan, unable to stop trembling. Despite this, the willpower in her eyes had not vanished nor had the strength left her voice.

“Thank you,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“You ratted me out.”

“I had no choice!”

“You're an Awakened now. Take care of yourself.”

“I’d still die if I was shot!”

Note: she’s only a low 1st tier. Their skin is not that much tougher than regular humans, nor are their skulls.

“Why are you here?”

“When I didn't return, Harrelson sent him to find me,” she said, pointing at the man on the ground. “When he did, he saw that my collar was missing and dragged me here at gunpoint.”

“Makes sense.”

Melissa turned around to see the situation within the room and her eyes widened with great shock. Bodies of the committee members piled in the corner, Mrs. Harrelson and her son huddled together, and Samuel Harrelson himself, bloodied, weakened and confined to a wall.

“Woah …”

“You're just in time for me to wrap this up.” Ethan walked past her and put his hand on Harrelson’s shoulder. “See, I was going to kill him now, but I think I’ll abstain.”

Harrelson and his wife raised their heads, a bit of hope returning to their eyes as they heard those words.

“You're not going to kill me?” Harrelson asked.

“No … I’m not.”

But just as the Harrelsons were breathing a sigh of relief, Ethan shattered their hope.

“She is.”

He stared at Melissa, who’s frowned upon hearing her name associated with killing. She looked at Ethan with eyes that demanded an explanation.

Meanwhile, the only emotion which settled on the faces of the Harrelsons was despair, having the last taste of hope ripped away.

Ethan tossed the pistol to Michelle, who caught it like she was catching an egg, afraid she might accidentally fire the weapon. Once the gun laid in her hands, she looked down at it, then back up at Ethan nervously, her eyes full of doubt.

“You want me to do this?”

“Sure. Ten minutes ago, I wouldn’t have. But, at this point, I’ve gotten my revenge. So I’ll let you pull the trigger instead.”

“No way. I’ve never killed anyone before.”

“I’m not asking you to kill a random person.” He walked over to her side and pointed directly at Harrelson’s wretched back. “I’m asking you to kill the man who has raped and abused you for the last three years. You get to be the one to put the final nail in the coffin.”

She looked up at Harrelson, who was struggling to turn his head, and saw fear in his eyes. He was human as well, and because of that fact, she hesitated.

“N-no, I can’t.”

“Fine. I’ll do it. I just thought I’d offer.”

Ethan began to raise his palm towards Harrelson while preparing to fire a large Geinta blast which would destroy everything behind the wall he was confined to. The entire north wing of the mansion would be blown away in a last, final, anger-filled shot which would disintegrate his body entirely.

However, before Ethan could do so, Melissa raised her arm and placed it on his shoulder.

“Wait!”

She stared at Harrelson’s exposed back and saw the awful scarring which had occurred. She knew that those wounds, despite looking healed, were new as she had never seen them on him before now. The scars were far larger and more gruesome than any of the scarring on her body.

She stared intently, thinking long and hard about her next decision, before she opened her mouth.

“Those scars? You did that?”

“Yeah.”

“Before he dies, did you make him suffer?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.”

Nodding her head and her breathing became rapid, she silently stepped forward and pressed the gun to Harrelson’s head.

“Wait wait wait wait wait!” Harrelson suddenly cried out. “Please! Don’t do this! I’ll set you free! I swear! Just please!”

“Listen to him!” his wife shouted.

“Ethan! I set you free as well! I-I’ll let both of you go. I get it! I won’t fuck with you guys anymore. Just please! Don’t kill me!”

But then Ethan suddenly interrupted his pleas.

“Samuel Harrelson, you still don’t get it. We’re already free.”

“No wait wait wai…!”

BANG!

A loud boom, and then silence.

The bullet penetrated his skull and blood was thrown across the wall. A spay of blood coated Melissa’s face, causing her to flinch at the sheer amount of splatter which resulted from a headshot.

“SAM!” Mrs. Harrelson screamed, her husband's body limply hanging off the wall by small white threads.

Samuel Harrelson was dead.