The Gentleman at the End-Chapter 310 - 309 Anger

Chapter 310: Chapter 309: Anger

Chapter 310 -309: Anger

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Yi Chen’s appearance was certainly not his own,

Although Doctor Macaul had never seen him, even if there was only a one in ten thousand chance, once Macaul left the nightmare alive and his brain was transplanted into a prosthetic body.

It would be confirmed that Yi Chen had assisted the nightmare in its corruption of Zion, and he would be executed and tried as a traitor by the Organization.

At the moment, Yi Chen had simply used his nightmare privileges to pinch himself the face of a young man, and even changed his behavior and tone of voice.

“Indeed, I am not Lorrian… After all, a piece of trash like you doesn’t require Lord Lorrian’s attention. I am just a Moon citizen under his command, who ‘happens’ to have an association with the nightmare.

Didn’t expect to actually meet you here. I’ve heard from Lord Lorrian before that a prodigal son like you might not have been executed by the Organization but ‘put to good use’ instead. If I encountered you, I would take care of you for him.”

Yi Chen again resorted to his most common provocation tactic, agitating Doctor Macaul’s nerves, the angrier the other party became, the more advantageous it would be for the upcoming battle.

After all, Doctor Macaul was no pushover; to be a doctor and to have personally slain half of the Open Source’s early “Moon Scar” was enough to prove his strength.

However, Macaul’s head, propped against the ceiling by his spine, displayed an extremely excited and even manic smile:

“There is no mistake… You are Lorrian! The tone is completely the same as before, taunting and mocking.

I will soon use a surgical knife to cut off that false face you’ve conjured with moonlight! By delivering your corpse to the Organization, I can rightfully resume my medical research.”

These words made Yi Chen frown, having completely underestimated the mental trauma Lorrian had left on Doctor Macaul.

“Gone mad?”

No more conversation.

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The utterly insane Doctor Macaul had firmly identified the young man before him as ‘Lorrian’, no matter what Yi Chen said or did, he couldn’t change this established label.

Twisting his spine around,

Click, click—each segment of bone was like a power transmission device, sending strength to his right arm’s torso.

The joint proliferation and the chaotic silver right arm swung out violently,

With dozens of distorted finger joints stabbing directly at Yi Chen.

Even as the arm pushed forward, the joints were still splitting and proliferating, Yi Chen’s eyes could clearly capture the changes occurring between the joints.

For example, a finger at the root would proliferate additional joints, and two more slender fingers would grow out, resembling a trident overall.

Or the wrist would split directly into second and third palms, each deformed palm carrying a different number of fingers ranging from 3 to 7.

Moreover, the nail structures of all the fingers had evolved into sharp surgical knives under the effect of psoriasis, and once they cut through the flesh, silver scales would infect the nerves, quickly severing crucial neural pathways and affecting individual mobility.

Yi Chen, coupled with Grape’s vision, superfast captured the movements of all the finger joints, preparing to parry and dodge when.

In the hall’s side corridor, a gigantic beast charged straight toward them at an unimaginable speed, appearing humanoid yet porcine with its face covered in fierce fangs.

Its physique had reached a terrifying degree, deforming the walls of the corridors it passed through due to its pressure.

Even though Doctor Macaul stretched his body with his spine, he could only match this person in height but was utterly incomparable in physique; the latter was like a living tank.

Charge… Boom!

A resounding crash echoed through the hospital hall as six consecutive walls were broken through.

The newcomer was the death row inmate ‘Breeder. Blanklin’, and his charge was merely his entrance routine.

Behind the six walls, in the corresponding hospital rooms,

Doctor Macaul, now with multiple fractures all over his body and severely concussed, was held aloft by the large porcine Butcher, held by a single hand at the neck joint, as if holding up a bone-jointed centipede.

The swollen porcine head’s eyeballs bulged roundly, the blood vessels inside even bursting with anger, dyeing the eyeballs a bright red hue.

The reason for his anger was simple: this old bastard dared to attack the teacher he revered.

Oil secretion increased exponentially, collected through the device mounted on his back, flowing into Blanklin’s black mask via a conduit, becoming self-sustaining and achieving perfect energy utilization.

The pig-human body swelled further, the pig’s head even breaking through the ceiling.

In Blanklin’s eyes, this old man had become like the former townsfolk, just another animal.

Swish!

A knife that had never appeared in the previous battle was suddenly in Blanklin’s hand.

This knife was plain and unadorned, looking just like the ordinary slaughter knife a butcher commonly uses.

The blade bore many signs of severe abrasion, the only thing he found in the ruins of his burned-down home, and the only relic of his father’s career as a butcher.

Blanklin slaughtered the entire population of his hometown with this knife, and then sealed the relic inside his body, closely wrapped in layer upon layer of fat and soaked in grease.

Gradually, the slaughter knife dissolved and was absorbed inside his body, becoming a part of Blanklin.

His soul structure even developed an additional structure of a slaughter knife.

Now,

because the teacher was threatened, he once again summoned the slaughter knife, ready to slaughter the beast before him.

The knife’s blade entered the flesh,

skimming the bone,

chopping meat and marrow,

Doctor Macaul was still immersed in the dizziness of a concussion until the slaughter knife cut into his spine, and the intense pain suddenly brought him back to his senses. His gentleman’s clothes immediately tightened, combining with the hardness of their silver substance to resist the cutting of the slaughter knife.

But they still couldn’t completely stop it, and it was only a matter of time before his spine was severed.

Like a man possessed, Macaul rapidly extended his arms, plunging dozens of split fingers into Blanklin’s back, frantically slicing!

Blood and grease spurted continuously,

and the inflammatory response brought on by the silver entering the body numbed Blanklin entirely, progressively losing the nerve connections to various regions of his body.

Boom!

The pig-human body crashed to the ground, having completely lost sensation in the lower half of his body, with over 40% of his blood and flesh cut away, and almost all his fats drained. From the side, one could even see the layout of Blanklin’s internal organs.

It was identical to human organ distribution, only interspersed with numerous silver surgical knives.

Even so,

Blanklin still held onto the spine tightly, chopping madly, using all his strength to completely crush each segment of the backbone.

Eventually, he wore a satisfied smile, as though he had completed the butchering job.

Ah ah!

Macaul’s screams echoed through the hospital, his spine totally crushed,

his lower limbs, torso, and head completely separated from him, yet he showed no signs of dying.

Macaul, the founder of “Dusk Thin Silver Liquid,” was such a nearly insane medical researcher that he used his own body as a clinical sample in the early stages of his research, injecting the secret medicine into different parts of his body multiple times.

After his practices came to light, he stayed in his office, injecting a high-quality batch of silver liquid that he’d hoarded into his brain in one go, so that his brain turned into pure silver and was almost impossible to kill.

Strange strands of silver substance kept oozing out of all of Macaul’s orifices, indicating some transformation was taking place.

Full of loathing, Macaul spat out a sentence through his mouth full of silver teeth:

“Restrictions… lifted, ‘Silver Skeleton’!”

In that moment, the gentleman’s clothes Macaul wore also turned into liquid, absorbed into his bones and fused with him completely,

columns of hot steam erupted from between his bones, expelling the high heat produced during the transformation.

Suddenly, a dangerous spike shot out from amidst the steam, aiming straight for Blanklin’s skull.

In the critical moment,

a tentacle whirled forth, wrapping around Blanklin’s battered flesh and dragging him out of the hospital.

“Well done, leave the rest to me…”

“Teacher…”

In Blanklin’s nearly obscured vision, all he could see was a dark humanoid silhouette,

six bizarre nightmare tentacles undulating behind it, his right hand tightly clutching a Hand Axe dripping with Black Liquid, striding forward with light and steady steps toward the smoke-filled area.