Wilson suppressed the restless steel wings and pushed aside the stick, glaring at the youths surrounding him.
He was beginning to understand that these young men were not merely ‘individualistic’ as he had initially thought.
They had evolved beyond mere ‘individuality’ into a new existence: the dregs of society, detestable and perpetually scorned.
In the future, they would face society’s harsh retribution, but for now, they posed a threat to ordinary people.
“I know what you want, leave now, or you’ll be the ones to suffer,” Wilson advised earnestly. If conflict could be avoided, that would be best.
“If you understand, give us some pocket money. It’s pitch black here, and no one’s around for miles. No one will discover whatever we do to you here, so you’d better be sensible.”
Seeing Wilson showing signs of yielding, the youth with the rainbow-colored hair continued to pressure him.
“I told you, get lost!”
Wilson roared. He was a man of quick temper, and the experiences of the past two days had driven him to the brink. In his usual temperament, he would have already fought these people, but he couldn't.
The rainbow-haired youth was startled. Wilson had always held a high position, and his sudden roar carried considerable authority.
However, he quickly came to his senses. Reduced to sleeping in an underpass, and a hunchback at that, what was this big, dark-skinned man pretending for?
He raised his extendable baton and swung it down at the man. His younger followers also crowded around, kicking and punching Wilson.
Wilson had not lived a normal life for several days, his stamina was low, and he had to suppress the steel wings. Therefore, he was pinned to the ground by these youths and beaten.
In the dimly lit underpass, an act of violence was unfolding, an act rarely experienced by many but one that indeed played out daily.
Enduring the beating, Wilson curled up, muttering softly.
“Don’t move, be quiet, don’t move, they don’t deserve to die, don’t deserve to die…”
Behind him, the metallic wings trembled slightly, wanting to unfurl and shred these fragile flesh-and-blood creatures into pieces.
But Wilson leaned against the wall, resisting with all his might to prevent them from erupting. He felt that as long as he endured, they would leave.
Over these past few days, he had managed to reach a certain understanding with the steel wings, allowing him to control them to some extent.
He failed to notice, however, a faint black mist flickering in the eyes of these young men. They wouldn’t stop until Wilson was beaten to death.
After a few blows, the rainbow-haired youth grew tired and stepped out of the fray. He lit a cigarette and watched the brutal scene with enjoyment.
“What are you enduring now? Do you think these social rejects are worth suffering such pain and humiliation for?” a flippant voice entered Wilson’s ears.
“Who are you?” Wilson managed to ask with difficulty amidst the blows.
“Who I am is not important. What’s important is who you are.
You possess a power that mortals lack. You should be above them, a being entirely different from these common creatures.
Why are you in this filthy place, enduring undeserved humiliation? Surrender to your true desires, reveal your original form!”
Accompanied by these seductive words, the same black mist appeared in Wilson’s eyes, and his expression visibly turned ferocious.
*Swish!*
A pair of large, gleaming metal wings unfolded behind Wilson, shining brilliantly in the dim light, like an angel’s wings.
The wings fluttered a few times rapidly. The youths closest to Wilson were instantly dismembered, blood splashing across the ground…
Wilson stood up, the metal wings behind him now clear. Each wing consisted of twenty steel feathers of varying sizes. These feathers were sharper than steel blades, connected by rivets and chains. There were no visible transmission devices, yet the wings were incredibly agile, more so than those of real birds.
“Your words don’t really make sense. I am no nobler than others; I should endure…”
Wilson wiped the blood from his face, and the black mist in his eyes vanished.
“But I really don’t want to endure anymore!”
The youths who had been beating Wilson were now headless and limbless, but the rainbow-haired boy had escaped. His mouth hung open, and the cigarette dropped from his lips.
“Monster! You are a goddamn monster!”
The rainbow-haired youth’s expression broke. He let out a wail, turned around, and bolted, hoping to escape.
He ran about ten meters before looking back and seeing Wilson not in pursuit. He rejoiced, thinking it would be difficult for Wilson to catch up from this distance.
But he immediately retracted that thought. Wilson’s left wing suddenly extended unnaturally, its twenty steel feathers spreading out to form a chain-like long blade connected by links. The chain blade flashed, piercing the rainbow-haired boy through and through.
*Clap, clap, clap.*
A man wearing a small red vest and with black and white paint smeared on his face emerged from the shadows, applauding.
“Truly spectacular. Combat abilities, I’m quite envious of such power.”
“Were you the one speaking in my mind just now?” Wilson asked the man in a deep voice.
“That’s right, it was me,” the man replied with a smile.
“What is your purpose?” Wilson asked cautiously.
“You can call me Mr. J. It’s a waste for talents like you to languish in a place like this. Superpowered individuals are the rulers of the world and should enjoy greater authority. I hope you will join our organization,” Mr. J said with a smile.
“You’re not some cult, are you?” Wilson suddenly asked.
“Of course not, we don’t engage in evil god worship,” Mr. J said with a smile. Due to the paint on his face, he always appeared to be smiling, even when his expression was neutral.
“Never mind what you are, I’ll go with you. I can’t turn back now,” Wilson said with a hint of melancholy, his wings behind him twitching twice as he shook off the blood.
…
Wen Wen stood before a pile of scattered corpses, his slender eyes flashing with a dangerous light.
This was the underpass where Wilson had gone on a killing spree just moments ago!
The nature of the wounds on these bodies was identical to the cutting marks in Wilson’s study. It was obvious who had done the deed.
“Sigh… I’m still too late. With the underground clinic and this place, he’s killed at least ten people. If this continues, who knows how many more will die. I can’t delay any longer.”
After leaving the underground clinic, Wen Wen had followed Wilson’s tracks, finding his trail wherever he left a mark.
If Wilson’s wife hadn’t sought Wen Wen out immediately, he would have found Wilson long ago and prevented these two massacres.
“I need to be prepared to take action. Negotiation with the target might no longer be possible, but…”
Wen Wen closed his eyes and carefully discerned the scents in the air. Wilson should have left not long ago.
What scent are vampires most sensitive to?
The scent of blood!