The Damned Demon

Chapter 611  Doing It For A Reason

Mr. Volt\'s brow furrowed, a knot of dread tightening in his stomach as his instincts screamed danger. *BANG! BANG!...*

Behind him, the guards, acting as if they got possessed, unleashed a barrage of glowing blue bullets. The projectiles, infused with explosive mana, streaked towards their target with deadly intent. The force of their release was so tremendous that it sent the shooters staggering backward from the recoil.

The crowd gasped, a collective intake of breath as the bullets found an unintended mark—Mr. Volt\'s back. *SSHK! SSHK!...*

Small circular devices followed, clinging to his suit and detonating with a thunderous bang. "Aargh!" Mr. Volt cried out, the blasts ambushing him from behind. At the same time, he could not dodge them even if he wanted to, a puppet caught in a devastating storm of friendly fire.

The horror escalated as the crowd watched in disbelief, their screams filling the air. The guards had attacked their hero, a grave misstep in the chaotic fray. Why would they do that?!!

Amidst the confusion, a guttural "Hrrk!" cut through the noise. The pain from the explosions wasn\'t fatal but was enough to weaken Mr. Volt\'s defenses momentarily.

Thundering Reaper capitalized on this moment of vulnerability with terrifying precision. Her hand, a blur of motion and malevolent intent, shot deeper into his flesh. Mr. Volt\'s eyes widened in a mix of pain and shock, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as his grip on her wrist faltered.

Before he could muster the strength to counter, the dark yellow energy crackling around Thundering Reaper intensified. *ZZZ-KRAKK!*

With a grim determination and gripping his neck tightly, she surged forward, using her speed to turn Mr. Volt into a lethal weapon against his own guards.

Each guard they smashed into exploded in a gruesome display of blood and gore, painting Mr. Volt\'s suit in the crimson life of his comrades, his eyes quivering.

The scene was nightmarish. Mr. Volt, splattered with the blood of his comrades, struggled to comprehend the rapid descent into chaos coupled with her hand inside his chest.

But there was no respite. *ZZZ-KRAKK!*

Thundering Reaper\'s form blurred again, this time with a terrifying velocity, as she smashed him through building after building. The protective barrier around the city became a cursed loop, her speed a destructive force that left trails of shattered glass, twisted metal, and crumbled stone in their wake.

Skyscrapers, once proud and towering, were now grotesquely twisted sculptures of steel and concrete. The speed at which Thundering Reaper moved caused the air itself to become a lethal force, turning glass into lethal projectiles that sliced through everything in their path. Offices and public buildings were violently breached in mere moments, their interiors exposed like the ragged sections of a torn dollhouse. Inside, the scenes were even more harrowing. Desks, chairs, and household items were swept away or crushed under the weight of collapsing walls and ceilings. People caught in the path of this devastation had little chance of escape; many were turned into unrecognizable masses of gore, their bodies obliterated under the sheer mana force Thundering Reaper wielded. Blood pooled and mixed with the debris, staining the rubble in a grim palette of red and grey.

Those who had moments to react before the destruction reached them sought refuge wherever they could. Under tables, in stairwells, anywhere that might offer a sliver of protection from the storm of death unleashed outside. The lucky ones found such havens in time, their hearts pounding as the walls around them shook and the screams of the less fortunate echoed in their ears. They huddled together, eyes wide with terror, each noise and vibration a potential harbinger of their own end.

However, with each horrific pass through the city\'s structures, Mr. Volt\'s body bore the brunt of her relentless assault. His body, which was strong enough to even take on a tank, was torn apart, his flesh and skin peeling away under the relentless heat of her lightning, friction, and impact. The gruesome spectacle of his body breaking down was a stark contrast to the vibrant hero he had been moments before, as bone began to show through the remnants of his torn flesh.

Finally, with a thunderous echo that seemed to shake the very foundations of Seoul, Thundering Reaper halted at the exact spot where the horror had begun. But Mr. Volt was unrecognizable—a mangled, half-destroyed form hanging limply in her grasp.

With a casual, almost dismissive motion, she tossed the bloodied spine and charred remains onto the street. The echo of his remains hitting the ground reverberated through the stunned silence.

The act was met with a deafening silence, the crowd frozen in shock, their faces a ghastly picture of horror and disbelief.

They could only stare in horror. The once-beloved hero had been reduced to a symbol of their vulnerability and the terrifying power of the enemy. *ZZZ-KRAKK!*

The haunting reverberations of Thundering Reaper\'s departure echoed through the shattered streets of Seoul, the ominous sound causing hearts to quiver with residual fear. As the dust settled and silence clawed its way back, the scene was abruptly pierced by the hurried arrival of other Hunters, their expressions etched with shock and horror at the devastation before them. They were dismayed to see that they were too late.

"Quick, sweep the entire city! She can\'t leave the barrier without letting us know!"

However, they quickly sprang into action, weaving through the debris to shepherd the dazed and terrified survivors to safety.

Among the arriving Hunters, two figures stood out starkly against the backdrop of the city\'s ruin. Their foreign demeanor was hardly noticed by the shell-shocked citizens, too caught up in their own despair to recognize the renowned Star Prince and the Daughter of Justice who had just entered the fray.

"No...We were too late..." Rachel, clad in her distinct blue Hunter attire, murmured as she took in the scope of the destruction. Her voice was a whisper of despair, reverberating faintly over the cries of the wounded and the bereft. The South Korean government, desperate and overwhelmed, had called upon the WHA for aid, prompting the dispatch of the Daughter of Justice and Star Prince, along with a forensic team, in a bid to intercept the Thundering Reaper—or at least gather crucial evidence from the chaos.

Arthur landed slowly beside her, his heroic aura dimmed by the tragedy around them. Clad in golden armor and a white cape, his hazel eyes swept over the scene, a mixture of sorrow and anger tightening his features, "This demoness...how could she mindlessly kill all these innocent people. It wasn\'t even part of any quest or anything." n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Rachel\'s fists clenched as images of her father haunted her thoughts, giving voice to her conflicted feelings, "She must be doing this for some reason..."

"How do you know? She could be doing this out of bloodlust as a demon," Arthur countered, his voice firm, his own fists balled in frustration and helplessness.

Rachel cast a sidelong glance at him, her expression somber, "You could be right but we can\'t be sure. I should collect some evidence before the scene gets covered by the government."

"Right. I will go and help these people," Arthur replied, his voice heavy with resolve. With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of their grim task, he sped towards the people, leaving Rachel to focus on the forensic aspect of their mission.

Turning to the forensic team, who were already donning their white coats and preparing their equipment amidst the ruins, Rachel took charge, "Collect any evidence you can, especially the mana signature she must have left. Don\'t leave anything out no matter how insignificant it seems," she instructed, her tone authoritative yet tinged with urgency, reflecting the critical nature of their work. The team nodded, spreading out with their kits as they rushed to the site of destruction.

—

Couple hours later,

The morning at the children\'s orphanage in Germany was marked by the gentle hum of activity as it awakened to a new day.

Nestled in a quiet area, the orphanage was a sanctuary, a place of warmth and nurturing for those who had none. As the first light of dawn stretched across the sky, the halls of the orphanage buzzed softly with the sound of small feet and the steady movement of caretakers preparing for the day ahead.

Among them, a woman was helped by another middle-aged woman who maneuvered her wheelchair through the corridors with practiced ease. Her long black hair was neatly tied back into a ponytail, and she wore a simple outfit of a full-sleeved black top and jeans. The soft whir of her wheelchair\'s wheels blended with the morning murmurs of the home as the woman helped her make her way to the staff office.

"Thank you, Ms. Potts," Anna said with a warm smile upon reaching her office.

"Don\'t mention it, dear. How can I not look after the kids favourite teacher?"

Anna chuckled softly as they came into the room. However, she noticed the unusual gathering of teachers and caregivers huddled around the television. The air was thick with tension, a stark contrast to the usual morning greetings. The screen blared the grim news: "Thundering Reaper once again strikes in Seoul! Fastest Man on Earth killed in cold blood and 500 Dead!" The room was filled with hushed tones and anxious faces as the staff absorbed the details of the devastating event.

Observing the news, Anna\'s dark gray eyes briefly narrowed as they settled on the screen.

But then her lips formed a wry smile tinged with concern as she addressed the room, "Everyone, can we please switch over to some other channel? The kids are coming and we wouldn\'t want our minds to be filled with such bad things when we teach them."

"Ah, you are right, Ms. Anna," one of the caregivers responded, a look of realization crossing her face. She quickly moved to change the channel, finding something more appropriate for the background of their day.

"Yeah. It\'s almost time. I don\'t want to fill my head with those gory images," another teacher added, visibly shaking off the grim mood as she turned away from the TV.

"Right. I have enough things to be scared of in my life," a third staffer muttered, trying to inject a light note into the heavy atmosphere.

Anna nodded appreciatively at their quick responses, placing her bag on the table and pulling out her notes.

As she began to organize her materials, her eyes drifted toward the windows, where sunlight was now streaming in, bathing the room in a soft, comforting glow. With a deep breath, she refocused on her tasks, getting ready to teach the kids.