He turned and raised his other leg once more to strike and destroy the staggering, headless corpse with a single kick. Although he was strong, this ti, he faced nurous bones and the resistance of an item, so he simply managed to break the bones and send the body flying.
But Elliot didn't care; that man was already dead.
'Next.'
His predatory gaze locked onto his next target—another assassin that was closing in.
Those dangerous eyes zood on his neck, and the next instant, he lunged forward, seizing the man's head before smashing it into the rocky ground.
CRACK!
Blood exploded outward as the skull caved in, and the whole body was crushed on the rocky ground, leaving a crimson puddle beneath him.
Elliot at the pool of blood, his expression cold.
'Maybe I'm not the best of sons, father... mother.'
His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but his body never stopped moving.
They had co here believing he was the prey.
Now they understood the truth.
The reality was that he was a predator, and they were the prey.
It was no longer a fight to kill—it was kill or be killed.
When they realized they were fighting against an awakened being, perhaps it was no longer a question of 'kill' but of flight or death. That's why so assassins turned to flee, hoping to warn the Clark family, but Elliot wasn't going to allow it.
One of those fleeing barely made it two steps before Elliot was upon the fellow. With a firm and swift thrust, his small knife slit the man's throat before throwing the severed head towards another escaping assassin.
The second assassin ended up stumbling after being hit in the back. He barely had the ti to recover before a shadow lood over him, and the next thing he felt...
Well, he felt nothing.
Elliot's weight ca crashing down, crushing the man's head beneath his boots.
It was a cruel, rciless execution.
Even as the blood pooled below his feet, Elliot's mind was filled with more tangled thoughts.
'Maybe I'm not worthy of awakening... Maybe I'm not even worthy of you, mother, father, sister...'
Between movents and thought, Elliot hadn't even realized how much more versatile his strength had beco. This wasn't just an improvent in raw strength—it was an evolution in the way he wielded his strength.
For the first ti, he had 'drawn' with the energy of attributes; his movents seed to be flowing like strokes on a canvas, his body and mind working in a seamless harmony. He danced with the wind, each of his movents precise, every strike deliberate.
The assassins fell one by one until the last of them t a brutal end after being slamd against a jagged rock. His eyes bulged out of their sockets, and the front of his face was crushed against the stone, while the rest of his body remained partially sunken.
Elliot withdrew his fist from the guy's chest and stared at him, unblinking.
"But I swear on my blood and my life," he murmured, his voice cold and unwavering, "one day, I will walk over the corpses of you damned traitors. I will avenge my family and beco your cruelest nightmare."
His cold words echoed against the rock, fading along with the last flicker of life in the assassin's eyes.
With a practiced motion, Elliot pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his hands and face. Although he had killed these bastards from the Clark Family, he wasn't satisfied.
'Too bad they sent too few.'
He sighed and turned away, walking at a steady, unhurried pace, leaving only destruction and corpses in his wake. Soon, the place would be filled with rats and crows, but they were of little importance to him because they had nothing of value.
_____
Elliot returned to the city an hour later. It was already past 6 a.m., and the sun had risen, painting the sky in hues of gold, but he felt no fatigue despite being awake all night.
"I need to sell everything I have," he muttered to himself. "I need to get so money to be able to pay off that debt."
As he walked through the streets, looking for a place to sell his hunt, he briefly considered going through the organization that had rated him as a Misfit since they had a reputation for giving good prices.
But he quickly dismissed that thought.
If so of them had sold themselves to the Clark Family, who was to assure him that the rest weren't just as compromised?
So, while he was still thinking, Elliot recalled soone—an old friend from before everything had started falling apart, before his father died.
She worked for the local governnt, handling transactions at a small Awakened Association branch, selling and buying the bodies of hunted beasts.
Although he considered other possibilities, he knew it was difficult to find a place where the Clark Family, one of Loen City's giants, would not have their influence.
That was why he decided to sell his hunt there. At least he knew they were from the local governnt, and even if the price he would receive might be lower, it was better than risking being ambushed by more awakened killers.
With that decided, he made his way to the Awakened Association's beast-trade division.
Due to the early hour, the marketplace was quiet. The lines were even shorter, thanks to the lower prices given in exchange for the beast bodies. But thanks to all that, Elliot was able to approach his acquaintance in no ti.
As usual, she was reading a book, paying little attention to her work.
"Ruth, long ti no see," he said.
The young woman glanced up, startled.
"Elliot?" Her brown eyes widened in shock. She hadn't seen him in several years, and she was left so surprised that she shot to her feet in disbelief.
"Is it you? It has been a long ti since I saw you."
Her gaze swept over him, taking in his appearance. She noticed that he was really badly dressed; his clothes were worn and disheveled, but she didn't care much.
Instead, what caught her attention was that his face was now much more tanned than she rembered, and he no longer looked like a child. His features had turned sharper, more mature, but...
'Was he always so attractive?' She was left in shock.
And there was sothing different about him—an aura that gave him a distinct touch. It made his rugged, unkempt look more manly, making him oddly striking. Besides, was he always so tall?
She didn't rember him like that.
Elliot nodded.
"It's . Sorry I couldn't catch up, but I am here for business. I want to sell so stuff. Are you buying? There's quite a lot I want to sell."
"What do you want to sell? Ruth asked, regaining her composure. "I heard you were working with the Misfits. Did they co across any good stuff recently? I heard they've been mining and stuff. Tell what you've got, and I'll give you a good price."
"I'm no longer with the Misfits," he interrupted, his tone firm.
Then, without another word, he took out what he was planning to sell and placed it on a reasonably large tal tray for her to evaluate his goods.
It was half of a rat's body. A single tooth. And a rat's skin.
"I have managed to get the skin off them and have 200 skins and 300 teeth," Elliot explained. "But I didn't know how to harvest the rest of the useful parts from them, so I bought half of the bodies—120 in total. Do you think you can buy it?"
Ruth stared at him, speechless.
She couldn't believe what she was seeing.
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