A murder!
The deafening sound caught the attention of the entire hall. Eyes turned toward the scene—blood splattered across the wall, a headless corpse still twitching on the ground. It didn't take much to guess what had just happened.
The companions of the slick-haired man who had been with him stood frozen, staring blankly at the pool of blood and the spurting neck stump. Their minds stalled—none of them had yet processed what had just occurred.
They never imagined that Mo Chen would kill someone without hesitation.
And right in the middle of a charity banquet!
Mo Chen paid no mind to the terrified stares around him and stepped toward the remaining few.
No loose ends.
The two men and two women who had bullied Vesti finally snapped back to their senses. With shrieks, they turned to flee.
The sunny-looking guy stumbled and scrambled to escape, crawling in terror. But Mo Chen closed the gap in mere steps, grabbed him by the throat, hoisted him high, and then slammed him into the floor.
Boom!
The impact cracked and dented the ground. His body burst apart like a flower in bloom, blood painting the scene like embedded crimson gemstones.
They were ordinary humans—how could they possibly resist Mo Chen?
Even if they ran, they wouldn't get far.
With a flicker of motion, Mo Chen was already behind them.
Bang! Bang!
Two figures were sent flying, crashing into the wall. Blood splashed up, and when they fell, their bodies were horribly contorted, flattened like pancakes, their eyeballs popping from their sockets, blood pooling beneath them.
When it came to the women, Mo Chen was a touch more merciful: he let them run a dozen meters more!
Just as one was about to reach the banquet exit, he lunged.
Squelch!
The flashy girl with big earrings froze mid-smile, stunned as her neck creaked downward in a rusted, jerky motion. A gaping hole appeared in her chest. From within, a hand emerged—clutching a still-beating heart.
Her own heart.
Finally, the girl's legs gave out.
Thud!
As Mo Chen withdrew his hand, she fell backward, skull cracking against the floor. Her wide eyes still held a trace of fear and disbelief, as if even in death she couldn't understand why Mo Chen had killed her.
She never imagined he would go this far—killing someone just because Vesti had been bullied. Perhaps, in her eyes, it was nothing more than playful teasing between "friends." Nothing worth making a fuss about.
Mo Chen dropped her heart to the floor and crushed it beneath his heel.
Then he suddenly noticed something odd—the banquet was unnaturally quiet. He glanced around the hall, locking eyes with the guests.
Under normal circumstances, such a bloody massacre should have caused chaos.
But the guests at the banquet were calm—eerily so. None looked afraid. Even the high-society women and hostesses by their side showed no panic. In fact, they were smiling, watching the bloody scene with fascination.
It was as if this wasn't a brutal, gruesome slaughter but a form of entertainment.
Mo Chen narrowed his eyes.
Something was off.
None of them seemed to care about the killing. They were completely desensitized to death.
The ones attending this banquet were high-ranking elites with real power, ultra-wealthy family members, and top military officials. All of their fake smiles were like masks.
Mo Chen felt a sudden wave of disgust.
The scene before him reminded him of hyenas and vultures scavenging on the African plains.
There was only one possibility: everyone here had long since grown numb to bloodshed. That was why they were so indifferent to a murder in their midst.
The guests at the banquet still wore those eerie smiles. Some were whispering, others flirting with their companions, sipping from wine glasses, enjoying the music.
Everything continued as if nothing had happened. The music played on. The dance went on. It was as if this had only been a minor interlude.
The flamboyant girl stared at the lifeless head of her companion lying not far from her feet. Her face had turned ghostly pale, her limbs ice cold. Fear twisted her features so tightly that her facial muscles seemed to contract into one terrifying expression.
hat once charming face had now been completely overtaken by horror.
She wanted to run, but her legs had gone limp, heavy as lead, refusing to budge.
Mo Chen walked up to her and, without a word, grabbed her by the hair. Her terrified scream rang out as he dragged her over to Vesti and slammed her down in front of her.
Bang!
The girl hit the ground hard, blood gushing from her head.
Considering Mo Chen's terrifying strength—capable of tearing apart Raptures—letting her live after that throw was probably the result of some good karma from a past life.
"She's all yours."
Vesti stared blankly at the girl now lying before her. Her former classmate, once so arrogant and proud, now utterly humiliated, all of her smugness and superiority wiped clean.
Everything had happened so fast, Vesti's mind was still struggling to catch up. It felt like a dream.
Before she had even reacted, Mo Chen had already killed all but one of her tormentors.
All those who had bullied her were now dead.
But Mo Chen's words snapped her out of her daze. She took a step back, quickly waving her hands.
"N-No… I can't."
"What do you mean you can't?" Mo Chen raised an eyebrow, grabbed her by the wrist, and brought her right in front of her classmate. "They bullied you, so they should have expected the consequences. Go on. Kill her."
"But, but…"
Vesti had killed countless Raptures on the battlefield, but she had never taken the life of another human being. She was so nervous, she couldn't even form a proper sentence.
"No buts," Mo Chen said flatly. "I've already removed your attack restrictions. Don't worry—she attacked me. And you're retaliating to protect me."
The girl, trembling with terror, instantly understood what this meant—she was going to die. Her face went white with fear.
Summoning strength from who knows where, she dropped to her knees, scrambling forward, crawling up to Mo Chen's legs and grabbing the hem of his pants.
"P-Please… Don't kill me, don't kill me…"
She had completely lost all semblance of dignity.
She tried desperately to call out to the other guests for help, but they only watched in silence, cold and distant. Even those "uncles" and "family friends" she once had ties with now pretended not to know her.
No matter how loudly she begged, it was all in vain.
Now, she finally understood what was happening.
Her hands and feet turned icy cold. She reached out to Vesti in desperation, begging through her tears. But her fear reached its peak—and a warm stream flowed from between her legs. A dark stain spread across her shorts.
She had wet herself.