Chương 15: ​CHAPTER 13: ANATOMY OF RETRIBUTION

The crisp, high-altitude air of the No Man's Land ravine bit into my skin. Beneath the wide folds of my charcoal cloak, the weight of the two custom coconut-shell chemical canisters pressed tightly against my ribs—hidden, volatile, and waiting. Flanking me were the five elite black-cloaked assassins of the Howling Shadow, their silver wolf emblems mocking the very ground where Devoken's family had been brutally slaughtered only hours before.

Hades Malice walked a few paces behind, his hand resting arrogantly on the hilt of his magi-katana.

"Move faster, medic," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

"The Boss is suffocating. Find the lunar-flora herbs in the next five minutes, or I'll peel the remaining skin off your other leg." I didn't answer. I kept my head low, perfectly mimicking the trembling posture of a terrified, helpless orphan as I pretended to search the thick volcanic grass near the sheer edge of the thousand-foot drop. In reality, my Radiographic Diagnostic Eye was wide open.

It silently mapped the structural fractures of the cliffside, calculating the wind velocity, and tagging the blind spots of every single proximity variable.

"I-I need assistance," I called out, letting my voice crack with manufactured panic.

"The roots of the lunar-flora are buried deep beneath the stone. Please, help me pull them." One of the elite assassins stepped forward, grumbling a curse under his breath as he bent down beside me. Believing I was nothing more than a defenseless slave, he completely lowered his guard.

Flick. With the microscopic precision of a neurosurgeon executing a delicate biopsy, a slender acupressure needle slipped from my sleeve. It pricked the exact lateral coordinate of his neck, delivering a concentrated, lethal dose of the underworld's paralytic neurotoxin directly into his carotid artery. The assassin stiffened instantly. His central nervous system short-circuited, locking his muscles into a rigid, silent spasm as his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Help! Help! He's... he's fainted!" I shrieked aloud, throwing my hands in the air in mock terror. Two more assassins instantly rushed forward, their heavy boots kicking up ash as they saw their comrade down.

"What happened? Did the toxic volcanic gas hit him?" one hissed, bending down to check the pulse.

"I-I'll search for the true medicine further down the path!" I panicked, backing away toward the high brush at the ravine's edge.

"One of you follow me! It's too close to the drop, I'm terrified of the height!" The second assassin grunted, stepping away from the group to shadow me into the dense foliage. The exact moment the thick volcanic weeds cut off the line of sight from the main path, I spun on my heel. The needle flashed in the twilight.

Thwip. He didn't even register the movement before the paralytic agent flooded his system, dropping his rigid, conscious body cleanly into the tall weeds. I reached down, plucking a vibrant, dark purple blossom from the volcanic rocks.

[SYSTEM: SCANNING VOLCANIC LUNAR-FLORA] Properties: Highly concentrated, hyper-allergic pollen matrix. Effect: Causes immediate respiratory constriction, violent dermal blistering, and acute systemic anaphylactic shock upon localized contact. I walked back out onto the main trail, where the third assassin was desperately attempting to apply a baseline mana-healing surge to the very first target.

Before he could even look up, I violently crushed the purple blossom directly over his face, grinding the fine, toxic pollen straight into his mucous membranes.

"Argh! What the hell is this?!" the assassin roared, dropping his hands as he began to scratch frantically at his face. His skin instantly erupted into angry, weeping red welts. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Move! Let a real medic heal him!" I commanded, shoving him aside with sudden, authoritative force.

"There's a freshwater runoff right behind that cedar tree—go wash your eyes before your trachea swells shut and suffocates you!" Blinded, panicked, and choking, the assassin stumbled blindly toward the tree line. The moment the clearing went quiet, something violently snapped across my consciousness. It wasn't a tactical calculation. It was the memory of Devoken's sobbing, bleeding face. The image of Radhami's blank, glassy eyes.

The sickening sound of her linen vest being torn open for the amusement of beasts wearing human skin. The modern Delhi surgeon inside me died right there. From its ashes, a monster crawled out, starving for absolute, unadulterated retribution. I drew my matte-black surgical scalpel. I looked down at the first paralyzed assassin. He couldn't move a single muscle, but his senses were wide awake.

I drove an antidote needle into his chest, deliberately restoring his sensory receptors so he could feel every single micro-millimeter of what was coming next. Then, the operation began. I didn't just cut; I dissected. With slow, agonizingly deliberate strokes, I cleanly severed his Achilles tendons, mapped shallow incisions across his major nerve clusters, and mutilated his flesh with clinical accuracy.

He tried to scream, but the vocal paralysis kept him completely silent, forcing him to endure a living hell of agony through wide, bloodshot eyes. Finally, I dragged the blade across his carotid artery, watching the crimson pool soak the dirt. Like a predator that had just tasted blood for the first time, my gaze locked toward the tree line. The blinded target was still splashing water onto his face. I lunged through the brush, materializing behind him like a feral beast.

I buried my teeth deep into his shoulder, violently tearing a chunk of flesh straight from the bone. Before he could even register the shock, my scalpel whipped around his throat, severing his windpipe. He collapsed into the mud, gasping and thrashing like a fish out of water. The third assassin—the one hidden paralyzed in the high grass—never even had a chance to blink before I dragged my blade across his jugular, kicking his limp form right over the edge of the thousand-foot ravine. Three down.

[SYSTEM ALERT: ANOMALOUS WORLD ACTION RECORDED] [CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE AWAKENED THE EXCLUSIVE TITLE: THE AVENGING SURGEON] [NEW SKILL ACQUIRED: VOID PRESENCE (ACTIVE/PASSIVE)] Effect: Completely masks all physical, mana, and psychological signatures from enemies within a localized boundary. The world went dead silent as the new skill wrapped around me like a freezing blanket. I activated it instantly, moving through the trees without a single blade of grass shifting beneath my boots.

Ahead, I spotted the fourth target—the specific, vile bastard who had psychologically broken Devoken's wife. He was casually relieving himself behind a large volcanic boulder, completely oblivious to the fact that his entire squad had just been turned into a butcher's shop. I materialized directly behind him like a solid ghost. I leaned in, my breath brushing against his hood as I whispered a single, freezing sentence directly into his ear:"The surgery is about to begin."

Before he could even draw breath, my scalpel sliced downward, completely severing his reproductive organs. Blood sprayed across the stone as I executed a rapid succession of shallow, agonizing lacerations across his back, intentionally missing the vitals to prolong the shock. Driven entirely mad by the sudden, invisible terror, the assassin began running wildly back toward the main path, shrieking like a dying animal.

"Hades! Hades, save me!" he screamed. Hades Malice was standing near the center of the road. His eyes went wide as his elite partner collapsed into the dirt before him, mutilated, bleeding, and screaming in absolute madness. Hades' high-level perception flared, his gaze darting toward the tree line as he detected the chaotic disturbance in the mana. I didn't hesitate.

Hiding behind a massive cedar tree, I took my own scalpel and aggressively slashed deep, bloody gasps across my own arms, chest, and face, painting myself in my own blood. I threw on the spatial bag containing the volatile sulfur-nitrate explosive canisters, making a loud, clattering racket as I stumbled out of the brush.

"Help! Master Hades, help!" I wailed, acting entirely hysterical, my eyes wide with manufactured terror.

"He went mad! That assassin... he butchered the others behind the trees! He lunged at me, he sliced my body! When he saw you coming, he mutilated himself to frame me! He's trying to kill us all!" Hades Malice's sadistic mind was completely thrown off balance by the sheer absurdity and horror of the scene. Seeing his own elite tracker covered in horrific, self-inflicted wounds, Hades assumed the man had succumbed to a localized psychological curse or volcanic madness.

With an enraged roar, Hades sprinted forward, grabbing the screaming assassin by his throat and dragging his flailing body straight toward the edge of the ravine to execute him. I dragged my legs forward, limping pathetically behind him, weeping aloud. The moment Hades raised his magi-katana to cleave his partner's head off—his stance completely committed, his guard entirely down—the pathetic orphan vanished. I leaped through the air like a striking viper.

I threw the explosive bag directly at their feet, while my scalpel, heavily coated in the concentrated paralytic neurotoxin, sliced violently across Hades Malice's exposed abdomen.

"What—?!" Hades gasped, his katana trajectory breaking as the poison-tipped blade tore a deep, burning gash across his stomach. I landed on the gravel and ran with every single ounce of SSS-Rank mana left in this fragile, fifteen-year-old reincarnated body, throwing myself completely clear of the perimeter zone. Hades dropped to his knees, blood dripping rapidly from his ruptured abdomen. The neurotoxin was already surging through his vascular network, causing his eyelids to grow heavy and his muscles to lock up.

I pulled myself up onto a boulder, looking down at him as a mad, echoing laughter erupted from my throat.

"Hahaha! The ledger is settled! You are the only one left!" With the last trace of my mana, I flicked a single, tiny spark toward the discarded bag. Hades' closing eyeballs locked onto the explosive bag sitting right between his knees as the volatile sulfur-nitrate canisters reacted to the heat.

BOOM! A blinding, catastrophic explosion ripped through the perimeter road, completely shattering the structural volcanic stone of the ridge. The entire cliffside crumbled into a massive avalanche of rock and fire. Amidst the blast, the violent concussive wave caught my body, throwing me backward over the precipice alongside the shredded remains of the elite assassins. As I tumbled through the burning smoke into the pitch-black air of the ravine, I looked down.

Through the haze, I saw Hades Malice using the absolute last reserves of his high-tier durability to shield his core, screaming a bloody, monstrous vow of vengeance as the abyss swallowed him alive.

He's alive... he's still shouting... My thoughts fractured as the wind whipped past my ears. Why didn't I get to tear his heart out? My revenge... it isn't complete yet. I... I can't die here. The burning sky vanished entirely. My body hit the roaring, high-velocity waters of the subterranean river at the absolute bottom of the valley, and the violent current dragged my consciousness deep into the frozen, suffocating dark.