My attributes are increasing infinitely

Chapter 459: Killing Max

Seven days had passed.

Ethan stood alone in the center of the dimly lit room that had once felt like a cage. Now it felt too small for him.

His body had grown rapidly over the week. The frail child who had once been dragged into this place no longer existed. He now possessed the physique of a teenager, and his frame was lean and defined. Every movement that he made was precise and controlled.

A translucent panel shimmered faintly in his vision before it faded away.

[Master: Ethan Hunt

Physique: 820 kg

Spirit: 820 kg

Talent: Infinite Comprehension]

He was on the verge of surpassing James in raw strength. The Black Bull Gang had always been a cluster of low-class thugs who relied on intimidation and numbers rather than true power. There had been no elites among them, and there had been no one who was truly remarkable.

Technically, Ethan had already become the strongest member in the gang.

He did not feel proud.

He only felt ready.

On the seventh day, the door to his room swung open without any warning. The hinges creaked loudly as they broke the silence.

Ethan turned his gaze toward the entrance.

Max stepped inside first, and his expression was tense. Behind him walked a tall, broad-shouldered man with thick, corded muscles that strained beneath his stained clothes. Though his attire was dirty and unrefined, the weapon that hung on his waist made his authority clear.

Ethan studied him calmly.

Maybe he is the gang leader, he thought.

Max pointed at Ethan with visible agitation in his voice.

”Boss, you need to look at that boy. I had my suspicions before. When I brought him here, he was just a two or three year old child. Now he looks almost grown. James must know something about this. That is why he has been keeping him hidden here.”

The man whom Max had called boss said nothing at first.

His name was Drek.

He observed Ethan with narrowed eyes, and he measured him in silence. He had never seen someone who was so unnaturally handsome before. Even in this filthy room, Ethan looked composed and refined. It was as though the environment did not dare to touch him.

After several seconds had passed, Drek finally spoke.

”Do you have any secrets?”

Ethan did not answer. There was no point in explaining himself to someone who would be dead or kneeling within the next few minutes. The time for hiding was over. It was time for him to take over the gang.

He took a single step forward, and he appeared directly in front of them.

”Shit,” Drek muttered as his eyes widened with horror. His hand shot toward his waist, but someone else moved faster. Ethan’s hand closed around the weapon first, and with a series of movements that were too quick to follow, the gun simply came apart in his hands. The pieces clattered onto the floor.

”Hello Drek,” Ethan said as a calm smile spread across his face. ”It is nice to meet you.”

Max had already collapsed onto his backside, and he was scrambling away across the floor like a crab. Drek stood frozen in place, and sweat was beading on his forehead.

”Wh... who are you?” Drek slurred as his voice cracked with fear.

”It does not matter who I am,” Ethan replied. ”From this day onward, I am taking over the Black Bull Gang. If you want to stay alive, you will work for me.”

Drek stared at him for a long moment. Then a cold smile crept across his lips.

”The Black Bull Gang is not an independent gang,” Drek said. ”We are under a far more terrifying force. You have potential. You should join us officially. I will make you the vice gang leader.”

Slash.

The sound was wet and sharp at the same time.

Drek’s finger was gone. One moment it was there, and the next moment it was spinning through the air while it trailed a thin spiral of blood behind it. The finger landed on the floor with a soft, wet slap.

Blood began gushing from the stump, and it was a thick, pulsing stream that splattered against Drek’s pants. He stared at his own hand, and he looked at the raw, red meat where bone and tendon were now exposed.

Ethan bent down, and he picked up the severed finger. He tossed it to Drek, and it bounced off the man’s chest.

”I asked you to obey me, and I did not ask you to explain,” Ethan said. ”If you say anything that is unnecessary again, your head will be gone the next time.”

Drek’s face had gone completely white. The pain was setting in now, and it was the real kind of pain that made his knees buckle. He clutched his wounded hand against his chest, and the blood was still pumping between his fingers.

”Now you should leave,” Ethan continued, ”and you should call all of the gang members. You can always try to run away, Drek. But let me show you something first.”

His eyes shifted toward Max.

Max was still on the floor, and his back was pressed against the wall. He saw Ethan looking at him, and in that moment, he understood what was coming. He remembered everything that he had done since he had brought the baby here. He opened his mouth to beg, but before a single word could escape from his lips, Ethan was already there.

Ethan’s hand closed around Max’s throat, and his fingers dug into the soft flesh with enough force to cut off any sound. Max’s eyes bulged in their sockets, and his legs were kicking uselessly against the floor. His hands came up to claw at Ethan’s arm, but his fingernails simply broke against skin that felt like granite.

Then Ethan’s other hand came up, and he grabbed the skin of Max’s face.

His fingers found the edge where the skin met the jawline, and they dug underneath it. They slipped between the dermis and the muscle that lay beneath it. Max’s eyes rolled wildly in their sockets as he felt the impossible sensation of his own face being separated from his skull.

Ethan began to pull.

The skin stretched first, and it resisted like rubber. Then it gave way with a wet tearing sound. It peeled away from the muscle underneath, and it revealed the glistening red fibers of Max’s facial muscles. Max tried to scream, but his throat was still being crushed. All that came out was a wet gurgling sound that bubbled through the exposed tissue of his lips.

Blood began to flow now. It was thin at first, but then it became thicker as the capillaries burst open. It ran down Max’s face in sheets, and it mixed with the saliva that was drooling from his gaping mouth. His eyes were still somehow intact, and they stared out from a face that was slowly being unmade.

Ethan pulled steadily, and he worked like a man who was removing a glove. The skin of Max’s forehead came next, and it peeled upward while it pulled his eyebrows along with it. Then his scalp came away, and the hair was still attached to it as the whole thing peeled back. The sound was constant now, and it was a wet ripping that was punctuated by the occasional snap of connective tissue.

Max’s body was convulsing violently. His legs were kicking, and his arms were flailing in the air. His screams had become nothing more than wet bubbling sounds that came from a mouth which was now just a hole in exposed muscle. His teeth were grinning out from a face that was no longer a face.

Blood was everywhere. It pooled on the floor around them, and it was thick and dark as it spread in a slow, expanding circle. It splattered up Ethan’s arms and chest, but he did not seem to notice it at all.

Max was still alive. He was still conscious, and he was still feeling everything as his skin was slowly removed from his body. His eyes tracked Ethan’s face, and in them there was a horror that was so complete that it seemed to consume everything else.

Max’s screams had stopped. They had not stopped because he was dead, but because his vocal cords had been exposed. They had been pulled from his throat along with the skin of his neck. All that remained was a wet, whistling sound.

Max stood there for one impossible moment, and he looked like a creature that was made of raw meat and exposed bone. His eyes stared at nothing at all. His muscles twitched and jumped. His heart beat visibly through the transparent membrane of his chest wall.

Then Ethan raised his hand, and he brought it down in a single, sharp chop.

Max’s head left his shoulders with a wet crack, and it tumbled through the air before it landed on the floor and rolled to a stop. The body stood there for another second, and blood was fountaining from the open neck. Then it crumpled, and it collapsed into a heap of red that steamed slightly in the cold air.