The cave fell completely silent after Zamasu killed their leader.
The only sound was the faint, wet gurgling from the destroyed corpse at his feet.
The man's body was twisted unnaturally, his chest caved in entirely.
His arms and legs were bent at impossible angles, and his armor looked like someone had crushed it like a soda can.
Blood poured onto the stone floor beneath him, dark and thick, spreading rapidly.
The glow from the moss along the walls reflected off the pool of blood, making the scene even more unsettling.
Fragments of the man's rib cage stuck out of his torso. His mask had shattered into pieces, revealing his pale, lifeless face. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly upward in shock.
Zamasu looked down at him and felt nothing. No disgust, no excitement, no remorse. Just calm, cold observation.
The man at his feet wasn't a person anymore. He was just a body that held no life.
What surprised Zamasu wasn't the death, but how little it affected him.
Even in his old world—he had never been this detached. Back then, seeing something as simple as a car accident on television might've sparked some faint feeling of sympathy.
Now, after crushing a living person, all he did was watch, unaffected.
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice. Smooth, confident, cruel. It sounded exactly like his own, but colder, filled with arrogance.
"Look how fragile they are. See how easily the mortal vessel ruptures? See the insignificance of their form? Flesh, bone, fleeting consciousness... all extinguished in an instant."
Although Zamasu didn't dwell on the voice, it was subtly influencing his actions—seemingly blending with his own thinking.
These people were weak. They saw him as prey, tried to capture him, and simply paid the price.
The voice continued, filled with disgust for the people surrounding him.
"They crawl in the dirt, thinking their little groups and weapons give them power. This is what happens to creatures who forget their place."
Zamasu had no reason to argue. The logic was simple and obvious.
His reflection was cut short by shouting.
"B-Boss! Boss, get up!" One of the masked men called out shakily. His voice cracked in panic. "C'mon, Rez! Get up, man!"
Another one, a woman with a sharp voice, took a step back in shock, recoiled as if physically struck by the sight. "What the hell… What the hell just happened?!"
Her mask hid her expression, but her body language screamed shock – a sudden rigidity, a slight stagger backwards.
"No... no way..." she breathed, the earlier confidence utterly evaporated.
The tall, thin man near the tunnel stood frozen, staring at the body, eyes wide in disbelief.
The smallest one—the one who had been nervous earlier—fell to the ground, backing away frantically on his hands and feet. His breathing was fast and uneven, his whole body shaking.
The tension in the air changed. Their shock turned to fear, and for one of them, fear turned to rage.
"YOU BASTARD!" The stocky man with broad shoulders shouted. His voice cracked with anger as he gripped his sword with both hands and charged straight at Zamasu.
The woman behind him quickly pulled a small ceramic vial from her belt and threw it toward Zamasu's face.
"SLEEP DAMN YOU!"
Zamasu didn't move. His mind stayed calm, his senses sharp. His body does not need sleep and is immune to poison. So such a tactic won't work.
The voice in his head sounded pleased.
"See the rage of the cornered rodent? See the desperation? Pitiful. Crush them. End their miserable defiance."
The vial shattered against the large metal disc tucked under Zamasu's arm, releasing a puff of glittering dust into the air. But the angle deflected most of it away harmlessly.
The woman's eyes widened. "No way… That should've—"
Her words cut off as the stocky man's attack reached Zamasu. His broadsword descending in a brutal overhead chop meant to cleave Zamasu from shoulder to hip.
It was an attack fueled by rage.
Zamasu didn't flinch.
His right foot snapped out in a blur of motion too fast for mortal eyes to track.
It wasn't a kick aimed to disable or stun; it was a piston-driven strike of pure, annihilating force, aimed horizontally at the man's torso.
The point of impact was just below the ribs, precisely where the flexible armor met the rigid breastplate.
The man's body couldn't withstand the force. His torso collapsed inward, armor and ribs snapping apart. The strike ripped his body clean in half along the waist.
The man's upper half, still holding his sword, spun through the air before crashing to the ground. His legs remained standing for a second, blood spraying everywhere, before collapsing.
The cave floor was now soaked in blood and pieces of armor.
The voice in Zamasu's head spoke again, colder than before.
"Another one gone. Mortals are weak. This is the truth."
The short adventurer, still cowering on the floor, curled up in a fetus position, crying uncontrollably.
The lanky man standing near the tunnel made his decision.
He turned on his heel and bolted. Pure, animalistic flight instinct took over.
He sprinted towards the tunnel they had entered from, the one leading back towards the safer upper floors, his long legs pumping frantically.
He didn't look back. He didn't think of his comrades. Survival was the only imperative.
The voice sneered. "The coward flees. Like a rat abandoning a sinking ship. He thinks distance will save him? He thinks the shadows will hide him from divine retribution? Pathetic."
Zamasu watched him calmly.
The large metal slab in his hand was still stained with blood, but it was undamaged. He shifted his grip and threw it like a spinning blade toward the fleeing man.
The metal spun through the air, its unpolished surface gleaming faintly.
It struck the man's lower back with tremendous force.
The man's spine shattered. His torso ripped away from his legs, blood and entrails spraying everywhere. His body hit the wall and slid down, motionless.
The disc embedded itself in the stone beyond him, vibrating slightly from the impact.
"Three," the voice declared with chilling finality. "Scattered like chaff. Their lives extinguished with less effort than swatting a fly."
Zamasu walked over and calmly pulled it free, blood dripping from the metal.
Only two people were left.
The woman, standing frozen, raised her hands in surrender. Her eyes were wide with fear. Her breathing was fast and shallow.
"P-Please… You don't have to do this," she begged. "We—we made a mistake. I have money. I have information. Let me go. Please."
Zamasu didn't say a word. He stared at her, his silver eyes gleaming.
She tried again, more desperate this time.
Desperation flared in her eyes as his silence stretched. She fumbled for leverage, for anything that might stay his hand.
"Y-You don't understand! I'm... I'm with Soma Familia! Soma Familia! You kill me, and you'll have the whole familia after you! They won't let this go! They have powerful adventurers! Level Threes! You'll bring down their wrath! Please! Think about it!"
Zamasu didn't care about her threats.
He stepped forward and backhanded her across the face with brutal force.
Her jaw shattered instantly, her lower face reduced to a mess of bone, teeth, and blood. She collapsed to the ground, gurgling, her body twitching before going still.
The last person, the small, nervous one, remained curled up on the floor, sobbing.
Zamasu turned his silver gaze towards the source of the sobs.
The short adventurer was curled into a tight fetal position on the cold stone, his face buried in his arms, his whole body wracked with violent tremors.
He wasn't trying to run. He wasn't trying to fight. He was utterly broken, reduced to a state of primal, abject terror.
A dark puddle spread around him, the stench of urine mingling with the other foul odors.
He whimpered incessantly, a high-pitched keening sound of pure, unadulterated horror.
The voice in Zamasu's head urged him to kill the man.
"End him. No survivors. No witnesses."
Zamasu looked at the broken, terrified adventurer.
He was no threat. His mind was shattered. Killing him wasn't necessary.(I need this for the problems)
Zamasu turned away, ignoring the voice's demands.
He retrieved the metal slab, checked his toga—it was still clean, unstained by the blood all around him—and walked calmly toward the exit.
His sandals left faint, bloody footprints as he moved.
He didn't look back.
The only sounds left in the cave were the man's terrified sobs and the soft echoes of Zamasu's footsteps fading into the distance.
End of Chapter 21
Power level 102- 8-c but higher with ki attacks like kamehameha