MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 662: Kill Me

Anthony sat speechless, utterly stunned. He had only spoken those words to Lilithra in the heat of the moment, a reckless word during battle. It wasn’t as though he truly intended to follow her into her chambers or climb into her bed. That much had never even crossed his mind.

He had been too exhilarated at the time, riding the high of his first Planetary-level battle. The thrill had taken over, his words slipping from his lips without thought, and now Vega had dragged them back into the light.

“Ahh…” Anthony suddenly exclaimed, his tone deliberately casual. “I just remembered I forgot to take care of something. I’ll be right back.”

And with that, his figure blurred into nothingness, vanishing completely from his seat.

Vega sat frozen in disbelief, staring at the fading afterimage of where he had been. “…He ran away?” she muttered softly to herself, blinking.

Then, her lips parted, and laughter burst out of her like a waterfall, uncontrollable and genuine. She hadn’t even been serious earlier.

She had only intended to use Anthony’s embarrassing words as a playful trap, a bit of leverage to pry information out of him about the so-called big event he had claimed to be sensing. She had never imagined that the ever-confident Anthony would actually flee.

Still, Vega wasn’t troubled. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, reaching calmly for another cookie. “Let him run,” she murmured to herself between bites, her voice amused. “He’ll come crawling back within a few hours at most.”

With a flick of her fingers, her phone materialized in her hand. She opened her contacts and began typing a message to Veronica, her laughter still echoing faintly in the air.

Meanwhile, Anthony reappeared in another location, the playful smile finally slipping away.

His body relaxed, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips the moment his feet touched solid ground. He hadn’t known what to say to Vega, and so, like a coward, he had chosen the simplest solution, escape.

Yet, despite his excuse, he hadn’t entirely lied. He did have something to take care of, something he should have addressed earlier rather than lazing beneath a parasol on a recliner chair in the Abandoned Desert of Ruins.

Now, he stood within the Mirror Dimension. His mind drifted to the people he had saved from the Forsaken Cult’s headquarters, the ones still chained and broken. Although he had fought the Demon King within this Mirror Dimension, Anthony had carefully separated the two spaces, ensuring that the rescued would not be caught in the crossfire of his overwhelming power.

With a single step forward, space itself cracked like fragile glass. It inverted upon itself, collapsing and reforming, as Anthony traversed to another section of the Mirror Dimension.

Earlier, when Dale had prepared to unleash devastating mana bombs, Anthony had relied on his clones to evacuate the captives, whisking them away moments before annihilation could claim them.

As his figure materialized within a vast chamber, the same nightmarish scene greeted him, unchanged, chilling, a cruel reminder of the horrors the Forsaken Cult inflicted.

The chamber was filled with people chained together. Some sat with eyes hollow, devoid of hope, their spirits long shattered. Others bore missing limbs, the stumps crudely cauterized, their bodies slumped in silent despair. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the rancid stench of unwashed flesh.

From one side of the chamber, shrill screams tore through the air, rising from cages packed with writhing figures. But many prisoners did not even flinch at the sounds, as if they had already become numb, their minds broken past the point of reaction.

Anthony’s eyes darkened as they fell upon a grisly sight: a man lying in a pool of his own blood, his chest torn open. A child and a mother crouched beside him, tearing into his flesh with desperate ferocity, consuming him alive to silence the gnawing void of hunger.

Anthony neither flinched nor judged. He merely stood in silence, his expression unreadable. The world was cruel, far crueler than most could comprehend. For these captives, this was reality, inescapable and absolute.

After all, in this world, humans themselves consumed dragons and titans, hoping to steal even a diluted fragment of their abilities. If such acts could be rationalized, who was he to scorn those who devoured flesh simply to survive?

Still… the man they consumed had not been a beast. He had been human. Just like them.

Anthony didn’t want to simply heal them and walk away. He wanted to understand. To see for himself the depths of their suffering.

Rising into the air, Anthony’s figure glided toward the cages from which the screams reverberated like endless echoes of hell itself. His body phased effortlessly through the steel bars, the layers of restrictive runes and enchantments dissolving uselessly before him.

His boots touched down upon the corroded, iron-stained floor, though infinity itself cushioned his steps, keeping his form untouched by filth.

The stench was unbearable, a choking cloud of decay and rot. None of these prisoners had bathed since their capture, their bodies caked with grime and sweat.

Anthony’s eyes swept over the group, his All Seeing Eyes piercing into their very essence.

There were over ninety of them, men, women, children, and teenagers alike, all thrashing violently, their chains rattling with each tortured movement. They clutched their heads, nails clawing into their scalps, their mouths open in ceaseless screams.

‘They are cursed,’ Anthony realized grimly. His vision sharpened further, glowing faintly.

‘The Curse of Unending Nightmare. The Curse of Madness and Derangement.’

Through his enhanced sight, he watched their bodies collapse under the strain. Their lungs ruptured, their vocal cords shredded. Yet the sigils burned into their flesh pulsed with black energy, endlessly repairing the damage. In seconds, their lungs refilled, their throats healed, only for the cycle of screaming and breaking to begin anew.

They were trapped in an infinite loop, a living mockery of existence.

Anthony’s eyes flashed blue, and his thought compartment skill activated as he used his mind-reading ability. He extended his consciousness outward, touching all ninety at once.

Instantly, a tidal wave of visions flooded him. His thoughts splintered into ninety shards, each forced to witness a unique nightmare. His perspective fractured, and he stood in different places simultaneously.

One fragment of his vision landed upon a man pinned to the scorching sands of a desert. An invisible weight crushed his body holding him immobile. The sun blazed overhead, its heat relentless, baking his flesh.

Then, slowly, inexorably, a single ant crawled up from beneath the sands. It paused on his arm before sinking its mandibles into his skin, tearing through. Another ant emerged. Then another. And another.

Within moments, they numbered in the thousands.

The man screamed as they crawled across his body, slipping into his ears, his mouth, his throat. They burrowed through his innards, devouring his organs piece by piece. His eyes were ripped from their sockets, leaving behind hollow caverns. His heart was gnawed apart, agonizingly, deliberately slow.

And yet… he could not die. The curse would not allow it.

The man’s scream pierced the desert endlessly, raw and ceaseless. Then, for the briefest instant, he faltered. As though by some miracle, he had become aware of another presence. His half-devoured head tilted weakly, the remnants of his neck straining toward Anthony’s unseen form.

“…kk… ii… l… ll… m… m… ee…”

The words rasped out, broken and almost unintelligible. But their meaning was clear.

Kill me.

The ants surged with renewed violence, their mandibles tearing deeper, punishing him for the audacity of his plea.

My state of mind at the moment is a bit… unstable, after writing this chapter.