Chapter 238 | You’re Going To Die

Kreg chuckled. "Satisfied. Of course, of course. Haha. I never thought you had that kind of money at hand. Wonderful, wonderful."

The lackeys erupted in laughter.

Suddenly, Kreg ’s laugh paused as he noticed something wrong. He turned to the side and realized his lackey on Mira’s side was still there. "Victor? What are you still doing there? Victor!"

Victor didn’t answer. "Victor!"

Still no answer. One of the lackeys frowned and went toward Victor. When he reached him, he froze. Victor was literally crying—crying blood. His eyes were bloodshot, his body frozen, his mouth open in a soundless scream.

The lackey was stunned. Before he could turn to say something to Kreg, his body also froze as if it were a statue.

The other two lackeys and Kreg noticed something was wrong. They turned toward Mira’s side.

Dexter cracked his neck. "So we begin."

"I have waited so long for this moment. I didn’t expect you to deliver yourself to me."

Kreg frowned, noticing Dexter’s voice had changed. "What do you mean by that?"

Dexter tilted his head slowly. "Even if you kneel, beg, or scream, it’s useless. You wanted to cripple me, right? You humiliated me in front of my wife. Threatened my wife. And you dared to extort me twice. I just hope I get a return for the 5000 dollars I gave you."

Kreg frowned and his face hardened then exploded with his seventh-level awakened strength. "What the fuck are you talking about? Do you want to die?"

Dexter chuckled. "Die? The one to die would be you."

Kreg’s voice had barely fallen when Dexter disappeared.

"Bang!"

A fist slammed into Kreg’s stomach. His eyes bulged as the air was violently knocked from his lungs. His entire body folded inward, doubling over around the impact, before he was sent flying across the room like a ragdoll.

"BOOM!"

He crashed into the wall, leaving a spiderweb of cracks behind. Dust and plaster rained down around him as his body crumpled to the floor in a broken heap.

He gasped, wheezed, tried to breathe—but his lungs refused to cooperate. The air tasted like copper and chalk. His ribs screamed with every shallow, ragged gasp.

Before Kreg could recover, Dexter was already standing in front of him.

Kreg’s pupils contracted.

"How...?"

He hadn’t even seen Dexter move. One moment, Dexter was across the room. The next, he was there.

Dexter grinned as he grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the floor.

"BANG!"

The impact shook the room. The floorboards cracked beneath Kreg’s skull. Blood sprayed across the wood in a dark, wet arc. The coppery scent of it filled the air, thick and cloying.

"You’re an 7th-level awakened now," Dexter said calmly. "You probably thought that made you powerful."

Kreg coughed, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His vision swam. His thoughts scattered like startled birds. He tried to speak, tried to form words, but all that came out was a wet, pathetic gurgle. The sound of a man whose body was failing him faster than his mind could track.

Dexter lifted him again by the hair, forcing Kreg to look up at him. Forcing him to meet his eyes.

"Look at me. You really think you are strong but there’s always a mountain above a mountain..."

"BANG!"

He slammed him down again. The sound was sickening. Bone meeting wood. Flesh meeting force. The particular, wet, cracking resonance of a skull being introduced to a surface that would not yield.

"You’re nothing."

Kreg gritted his teeth.

"You cripple!"

He activated his talent as his arms covered in bone spikes as he punched hard at Dexter.

Dexter caught his fist effortlessly, mid-swing, as though he were catching a thrown ball as the spike cracked and shattered against his palm.

Dexter’s body was insane. Not to mention Awakened level 7, Superhuman level 7 could barely penetrate his skin.

Dexter held his fist and squeezing gently, letting Kreg feel the absolute futility of resistance.

Letting him feel the particular, crushing, inexorable pressure of a grip that could not be broken.

A sharp crack echoed through the room as Dexter twisted his arm.

Kreg screamed.

"AAAGH!"

The remaining lackeys finally understood. They had kicked a diamon stone.

"Run!"

One of them shouted and desperately tried to escape. He bolted toward the door, He reached the door—

Only for an invisible force to slam him backward.

BOOM!

He crashed into the floor. The impact drove the air from his lungs and left him gasping like a fish on dry land. Dexter didn’t even look at him. The formation had sealed the compound. Nobody was leaving. Not until Dexter decided they could. Not until he was finished.

"I’ll save you for last," Dexter faced Kreg as he spoke. "It’s always the sweetest."

He smiled as he turned away from Kreg.

He hadn’t used any pressure from his superhuman strength, yet Kreg was frozen in fear. The man who had walked into his home with confidence, with arrogance, with four men and a plan—that man was gone. What remained was a trembling shell.

Dexter licked his lips and turned toward another lackey—the man who had previously touched his wife the first time they came. The one who had put his hands on Mira’s shoulder while she sat helpless in her wheelchair. The one who had smiled while doing it.

"Bang!"

His chest caved in as blood spilled from his lips and he was sent flying. He hit the ground hard, rolled, and came to a stop against the base of the couch.

He tried to breathe. Blood bubbled between his lips with each shallow, labored gasp. The sound was wet and rhythmic, like a leaking valve.

Dexter slowly approached him. The man’s face turned extremely pale. The color of a corpse that hadn’t realized it was dead yet.

"Please..."

Dexter stopped in front of him. "You remember me?"

The man trembled. "I... I was wrong."

Dexter crouched down. "You were wrong?"

[A/N: Really sorry about the confusion]