manynovel Chapter 218 Cyrus Mohn...Dead!
Chapter 218 Cyrus Mohn...Dead!
As soon as the door to cell number 27 opened a crack, a pink figure darted out like a ghost, accompanied by a sweet, cloying fragrance, and rushed straight at Cyrus, who was running wildly.
"Warden, are you in such a hurry to leave that you're abandoning me?"
A seductive voice rang out, carrying a hint of sticky coldness; it was none other than the S-class prisoner "Phantom".
She clung to Cyrus from behind like an octopus, her arms tightly locking around his neck.
As Cyrus struggled to break free, she used the twisting of her body to suddenly thrust her head against his neck, her cold, wet red lips pressing fiercely against his cheek with an irresistible arrogance, before brushing against his lips.
"Ugh!" Cyruston felt a terrifying suction coming from between his lips—
Not only was the remaining dark energy in his body being rapidly drained away, but even his very life essence was being rapidly extracted.
"You...you bastard!" He was both shocked and furious, and he desperately tried to shake off the phantom by channeling the remaining evil power within his body.
The excruciating pain of losing his arm and the loss of his essence made his resistance seem somewhat powerless.
At the same time, figures emerged from the other opened cells.
"Steelbow" stepped out first. His body was made of black active metal, with his joints emitting a blazing red light. His figure was as imposing as a giant.
He glanced at Cyrus, who was being entangled by the phantom, then looked at Leng Meng and her group who had caught up with him, and his deep voice rang out:
"Freedom? Ha... The outside world is nowhere near as comfortable as here. Most importantly..."
His gaze fell on Leng Meng and Qin Yue. "I think these two beauties are much more pleasing to the eye than this old bastard. Brothers, give this old geezer a hand and beat him up!"
Following closely behind was the "Illusionist," an old man with an ethereal form, clutching a worn-out violin, who let out a strange, cacophonous laugh:
"Steelbow is right. My 'music' can only find its 'kindred spirits' here."
"Cyrus, you called my playing noise last time, today it's time to settle the score!"
Before he finished speaking, he suddenly pulled on the strings, and sharp, distorted sound waves burst forth, drilling straight into Cyrus's mind.
That was no longer just a sound, but like an out-of-control electric drill, frantically stirring and chiseling inside his skull!
Cyrus's head throbbed with pain, his already weak body swayed, and suddenly everything went black.
The last to emerge was the "Plague Doctor," dressed in a tattered white coat, wearing a bird-beak mask that revealed eerie, bloodshot eyes beneath, and a hoarse, chilling voice.
"My lovely germs haven't been experimented on yet on the Warden... Please let me collect some samples so I can study them properly."
He slowly raised his hand, and a cloud of colorful, foul-smelling mist drifted toward Cyrus.
These S-class monsters had been imprisoned by Cyrus for many years, and their resentment had long been deep-seated.
Now that Cyrus has lost power and is seriously injured, and is being relentlessly pursued by the Phantom, why would he obey his orders?
On the contrary, they felt this was a perfect opportunity to kick a dog when it's down and at the same time show goodwill to Leng Meng's side.
As for so-called freedom, they had long been accustomed to the "regular life" and relative "security" of the Abyss Prison, and instead felt a bit of fear of the unknown and complex dangerous world outside.
Suddenly, the scene became bizarre and ironic.
The "reinforcements" that Cyrus had placed so much hope in quickly turned into deadly demons.
"Steelbow"'s iron fist, carrying immense force, slammed into Cyrus again and again, the dull thuds of metal colliding echoing continuously.
The sound waves from the illusionist continued to erode his mind, causing his consciousness to gradually become blurred.
The plague doctor was enveloped in a cloud of viral mist, which continuously corroded his body.
The phantom remained clinging to his back, greedily absorbing his last vestiges of life.
Cyrus was in a real predicament. He struggled frantically, drawing a soft sword from his waist with his remaining left arm and waving it wildly, barely managing to repel a punch from Steelbone and disperse some of the poisonous mist.
However, the excruciating pain from the mental sound waves caused his head to split open, and the loss of his vital energy made him weaker and weaker.
Just then, Leng Meng, Qin Yue, Lin Feng, and "Blank" surrounded them.
Cyrus was like a trapped beast caught in a pack of wolves, his eyes filled with despair and madness, his body swaying precariously.
"Enough!" A repeated syllable, filled with boundless resentment, slowly rang out; it was "Blank".
The surging vengeful spirits surrounding it carried a suffocating sense of oppression, causing several S-class prisoners to instinctively take several steps back and make room for it.
Blank's "gaze" fell on the dying Cyrus, its voice echoing with the wails and curses of countless men and women, young and old:
"Cyrus Mohn... how many innocent souls have you thrown into the furnace to survive, to consolidate your rule? How many prisoners have you used as playthings for your experiments and amusement?"
"The freedom you speak of is nothing but a lie used to manipulate others. You are not worthy to utter that word."
Blank's voice grew colder, "Today, I will use your death to quell the rage of these thousand wronged souls."
"A thousand souls devour the heart, eternal damnation!"
With a deep command, Blank's entire body suddenly exploded, transforming into countless strands of black resentment thinner than a hair, like the most violent black storm, instantly engulfing Cyrus completely.
These threads of resentment burrowed into his seven orifices, pierced his skin, wrapped around his bones, and finally seeped into the depths of his soul.
Instead of immediately taking his life, they dragged Cyrus into a desperate illusion composed of countless fragments of victims' memories.
He will personally "experience" the pain, fear, hatred and despair of every soul he has killed or tormented, enduring the mental and spiritual torture.
Cyrus's body trembled violently, his bloodshot eyes filled with boundless fear and pain, yet he was imprisoned by the threads of resentment and unable to utter a sound.
His life force and soul withered and decayed at a visible rate, and his skin gradually turned gray and withered, just like the witch before him.
This torture of the soul lasted for a full three minutes, but for Cyrus, it felt like enduring thousands of years.
When the last thread of resentment was pulled from his withered body and reassembled into a "blank" figure, Cyrus Mohn had become a dried corpse with wide-open eyes and an expression frozen in extreme pain.
"Blank" swayed slightly, appearing somewhat unsteady, clearly indicating that using this move had also consumed a great deal of energy.
The core resentment that had haunted it for countless years, directed at Cyrus, finally dissipated with the death of its enemy.
It looked at Leng Meng, then swept its gaze over Lin Feng, Qin Yue, and the others. The faces around it, which had been churning, slowly relaxed, and it made a "relieved" expression.
"Thank you... for letting me... end it myself."
The voice of "Blank" is no longer filled with overlapping resentment.
"My obsession is over... it's time... for me to leave."
As the words fell, its form, starting from its feet, gradually transformed into specks of shimmering light, like scattered stars, slowly dissipating into the air of the corridor.
Prisoner No. 0 – “Blank” – was purified and returned to nothingness.