The arrogance on the yellow-haired guy’s face was replaced by a primal fear.
He stared at Haruka’s arm, which was wrapped in a red liquid fluid, his expression one of terror.
“What… what is that thing?”
The iron rod was still raised in his hand, but he didn’t take another step forward.
The short guy with the ear stud next to him was even more direct; his folding knife clattered onto the ground.
Haruka stood amidst the scattered wood chips, his head lowered, looking at his right arm.
The liquid fluid was writhing slightly, as if it had a life of its own.
Every movement brought a strange sensation—power.
A continuous stream of power surged from that layer of liquid fluid into his body, filling every muscle fiber.
He had never felt this before.
His body had always been frail, from childhood to adulthood.
He couldn’t even do a single standard pull-up.
But now, he felt like he could tear down the wall in front of him.
“I’m talking to you!”
The yellow-haired guy roared, his voice thin and shrill, pointing the iron rod forward.
“Stop playing these goddamn tricks!”
“Are you scared?”
Haruka hadn’t even expected himself to say those words.
The yellow-haired guy’s face flushed red.
He had been running this area for over three years, with seven or eight people under him.
Collecting protection money, blocking students, fighting in groups—he had never backed down.
To be asked “Are you scared?” by someone he had beaten countless times.
“You think I’m scared of you?!”
The yellow-haired guy charged forward.
He swung the iron rod in a wide arc, aiming for Haruka’s head.
Haruka raised his hand to block.
Bang!
The iron rod bounced off.
Haruka’s arm didn’t move an inch.
The yellow-haired guy’s hand went numb, and he almost dropped the iron rod.
Before he could react, Haruka moved.
His right hand grabbed the yellow-haired guy by the collar and lifted him up effortlessly.
The yellow-haired guy’s feet left the ground.
A man weighing over 160 pounds was lifted with one hand, like a plastic bag.
“Let… let go!”
The yellow-haired guy kicked wildly in the air.
He desperately tried to pry Haruka’s fingers off.
But those fingers were like steel hooks, immovable.
Haruka looked at the yellow-haired guy’s flushed face, looking at the fear in his eyes.
In an instant, countless images flashed through his mind.
Being pressed against a wall in an alley and slapped.
His sneakers being stepped into the mud.
His wallet being stolen, the video posted to the class group.
Thirty-seven likes.
“Trash like Haruka is just a waste of food while alive.”
His hand tightened.
The yellow-haired guy’s face turned from red to purple.
“No—ugh—”
Just then, the red substance within him began to spread more violently.
It wasn’t just his arm anymore; it spread from his shoulders, chest, and abdomen, all the way to his legs and his other arm.
The liquid fluid enveloped his entire body.
The change happened within seconds.
Haruka’s body expanded a size.
His height shot up from just over 1.7 meters to nearly two meters.
His entire body was covered in black and red liquid fluid.
Irregular patterns flowed across the surface.
His fingers turned into five sharp blades, and jagged spines protruded from his back.
Finally, his head.
The liquid fluid spread across his cheeks, covering his eyes, nose, and mouth.
Then, it “grew” facial features again—
Two irregular white eye sockets, without pupils, looking as if they had been splashed with white paint.
A giant mouth split all the way to the ears, filled with jagged, uneven fangs.
Each one was as long as a finger, gleaming with a wet light.
A long, thin, dark red tongue slid out from between the teeth, flickering in the air.
The temperature in the corridor seemed to drop by ten degrees instantly.
This was not a human.
This was—a monster!
The yellow-haired guy’s underlings completely broke down.
The short guy was the first to run, turning and rushing downstairs, tumbling and crawling.
The others followed closely behind.
One person even tripped over himself, his knees hitting the edge of the stairs, tumbling down half a flight before scrambling up to continue running.
Only the yellow-haired guy couldn’t run.
He was being held in the air by Carnage, by his throat, with one hand.
“Call… call the police… I want to call the police…”
The yellow-haired guy’s voice was distorted from being choked.
“You wait… you… uh…!”
Carnage tilted his head, and that split mouth pulled into an eerie arc.
Then, two tentacles extended from his back.
They caught up to the panicking thugs in the stairwell like lightning.
One tentacle wrapped around the short guy.
The very person who had dirtied Haruka’s sneakers, dragging him back and lifting him into mid-air.
The short guy wailed in terror.
A large puddle of liquid seeped from his crotch, and the smell of urine filled the corridor.
Carnage brought the short guy in front of him, tilting his head to look at him for a few seconds.
Then he let go.
The short guy fell to the ground from a height of over two meters.
“Thump!”
With a dull thud, the back of his head hit the tiles, and he rolled his eyes and passed out.
The other tentacle swatted the remaining two thugs against the wall like flies.
They slid down like noodles and lay on the ground, motionless.
Only the yellow-haired guy remained conscious in the corridor.
Carnage pulled him closer, bringing him right in front of him.
That mouth full of fangs was only ten centimeters away from the yellow-haired guy’s face.
“You… don’t come over… please… big brother… daddy—”
Carnage opened his mouth.
Between the fangs, a dark red tongue slowly extended.
It licked the yellow-haired guy’s face.
Then, Carnage made a sound.
“Hehe…”
“No… don’t…”
The next moment, a scream rang out in the corridor.
…
In the living room, Phillips and Keira heard the commotion in the corridor, but they didn’t dare go out.
Those sounds were too terrifying.
First, the sound of metal clashing, then inhuman roars.
Finally, screams and a sound they didn’t want to identify.
Keira huddled in the corner of the sofa, her face deathly pale.
Phillips stood at the entrance of the living room, gripping a kitchen knife.
The commotion stopped.
The corridor was unnaturally quiet.
Then, footsteps sounded.
The living room door was pushed open.
A monster covered in red stood at the door.
Nearly two meters tall, the liquid fluid on his body was still writhing slightly.
The corners of his mouth were stained with dark liquid, and two white, pupil-less eye sockets stared at the two people in the living room.
Keira screamed.
“Mon… monster!”
Phillips raised the kitchen knife, his hands trembling violently.
“You… don’t come over…”
Carnage stood at the door, watching them silently.
The surface of the liquid fluid began to recede slowly, starting from his face, revealing the skin underneath.
It was Haruka’s face.
Pale, gaunt.
But his eyes had changed; a dark red light flickered deep within his pupils, like charcoal buried under ashes.
“Is… is that you?”
Keira’s voice was trembling.
“Haruka? You… you have become…”
“He is not my son.”
Phillips suddenly spoke, his voice dry and hard.
“He is not our son, this kind of monster… I said long ago we shouldn’t have brought him from the orphanage…”
“Monster?”
Haruka’s voice was very soft.
He lowered his head to look at his hands.
The liquid fluid had receded for the most part, but a layer of red hard shell still remained on his fingertips.
“You’re right,” he said.
He raised his head.
Keira saw something in his eyes that made her scream get stuck in her throat.
It was calmness.
A calmness ten thousand times more terrifying than anger.
The liquid fluid covered his entire body again in an instant.
…
Everything ended quickly.
Haruka sat on the living room floor.
The liquid fluid had completely receded, and he had returned to his ordinary appearance.
As for the scars on his body before, the bruises at the corners of his mouth had disappeared.
And on the floor in front of him, Phillips and Keira were no longer breathing.
Haruka stared at them for a long time.
He didn’t cry, nor did he laugh; he just sat there.
Then he saw the photo wall next to the shoe cabinet.
Various photos hung on it.
His younger brother’s hundred-day photo.
His younger brother’s first-birthday photo.
His younger brother’s elementary school graduation photo.
A family photo when his younger brother won an award.
And for him, there was only one.
It was the one at the very bottom, taken when he was first adopted.
In the photo, three-year-old him was held in the middle by his foster parents.
Keira was smiling very happily, and Phillips’s hand was on his shoulder.
That was the only one.
Haruka moved his gaze away from the photo.
He stood up and walked to the door of his younger brother Coal’s room.
A sticker was pasted on the door, one that Coal had put there when he was young.
On it were two stick figures holding hands, with a crookedly written caption next to them:
“Older brother and younger brother”
Haruka reached out, his fingers touching the sticker, and stopped.
His younger brother, he was very kind.
Things his foster parents wouldn’t buy him, his younger brother would secretly slip to him.
When the balcony was cold in the winter, his younger brother would bring over his own blanket.
During the New Year, his foster parents only gave red envelopes to his younger brother, but his younger brother would secretly split half with him, smiling and saying,
“Brother, let’s split it in half.”
Once he had a fever, his foster parents accused him of faking illness and wouldn’t let him take time off.
It was his younger brother who carried him to the community clinic on his back, taking out all his own New Year’s money to register for him.
His younger brother, who was only twelve at the time, carried his older brother, who was half a head taller than him, for three blocks, exhausted and drenched in sweat.
“I’m sorry.”
Haruka’s voice was very soft, as if squeezed from his throat.
“I’m sorry, Xiao Hao.”
He turned around, stepping on the bloodstains in the corridor.
He walked downstairs, pushed open the unit door, and disappeared into the rainy night.
In the house behind him, there was dead silence.
…
Five kilometers away, at a junction in the city’s underground drainage system.
A mass of black fluid was clinging to the pipe wall.
It was more than twice as big as it had been a few hours ago.
Knull.
His current form no longer resembled a puddle of mud.
It was more like a solidified black jelly, with basic contours and density.
He could even attempt to extend a few tentacles for simple operations.
All of this was thanks to the child Symbiote.
Especially that moment when Haruka acted.
The feedback of emotions was extremely immense.
Knull used this energy to repair the consumption from the split, and there was even a surplus.
His spiritual connection range had expanded significantly, and his perception was sharper too.
“The first one, it’s a success.”
It said silently in its consciousness.
Carnage.
Violent, bloodthirsty, uncontrollable, but also powerful enough.
As the first stone thrown into the water, the effect was good.
Then, it extended its attention further away.
This city was huge, with over ten million people, and over ten million lives.
Most of the emotional signals were very weak, plain, and unremarkable.
But a few coordinates were different.
To the southeast, about twelve kilometers away, there was a mass of continuously burning rage.
That was hatred accumulated over years, hatred that had already twisted the soul.
To the north, eight kilometers away, there was a despair that was almost about to swallow a person.
It was like the last cry for help from a drowning person, weak but sharp.
Further to the west, more than twenty kilometers away, there was a cold, rational anger.
It wasn’t as intense as the first two, but the density was extremely high, like a spring compressed to the limit.
Three coordinates, three kinds of despair.
Three people abandoned by this world.
Three logs of wood waiting for it to ignite.
Knull’s main body writhed gently on the pipe wall.