Chapter 213 New King
Gilbert whipped around and saw a face that was half drop-dead gorgeous and half nightmare fuel.
One side had smooth skin, delicate features, and golden hair swaying in the night breeze. Anyone would think, 'Damn, what a babe!'
But the other side? Covered in gnarly dark red scars, bald patches, missing an eyelid, and barely held together by a thin membrane. It looked like a ghost straight outta a horror flick.
Even Gilbert, who usually had nerves of steel, felt his heart do a little jig. It was freaky as hell.
"Gemma..." The folks behind Clarissa recognized Gemma but were too shell-shocked to move.
"What the hell are you doing?!" someone hollered.
A guy saw Gemma close to his buddy who was convulsing, blood pouring from his mouth. Realizing she was up to no good, he cursed and swung his machete at her. Killing was like second nature to this guy.
Gemma just gave a gentle push, and the guy crumpled into his buddy's arms, limp and silent, his clothes soaked with some liquid. All eyes widened as they noticed a gaping bloody hole in his back, blood gushing out, and his heart nowhere to be found.
Gemma had punched through his back and yanked out his heart.
"The master said, if you don't resist, you don't have to die," Gemma said, ice-cold.
"Take her down!" Gilbert roared.
His crew rushed at Gemma, but most didn't even bother with their weapons.
Gemma grinned, stepped back, and crushed Gavin Smith's fist with her slender fingers. She yanked him into her arms, clawed at his neck, tearing off a chunk of flesh. The crowd hesitated, scared out of their wits.
Her other hand plunged into Gavin's gut.
"You..." someone tried to speak but was too freaked out.
Even after a month of the apocalypse, this kind of brutal combat was next-level disturbing. It wasn't like just stabbing or shooting someone.
Two people had been offed in a bloody mess. Some hesitated, others got even more ferocious.
An Evolving person, banking on his speed and strength, charged at Gemma, aiming for her face.
Gemma stepped back and swung her fist to meet his. She was going toe-to-toe with him.
The Evolving person smirked, thinking she couldn't match his strength.
The sound of bones cracking wiped that smirk right off his face. He looked at his mangled hand in disbelief and screamed his lungs out.
Gemma stepped forward, grabbed his neck, and crushed his throat, shutting him up for good.
"Two-star?!" someone yelled, stunned.
It was unheard of for a two-star Evolving person to dispatch a one-star so effortlessly. The crowd began to retreat, sensing the danger.Sweat dripped from Gilbert's forehead. He realized the situation was spiraling out of control. Something had shifted, and it was deadly for him.
He saw Gemma say something before diving into his men, blood and limbs flying everywhere. He didn't catch what she said, but her earlier words echoed in his mind.
"If you don't resist, you don't have to die."
Gilbert, always quick on his feet, opened his mouth to surrender, but a cold wind blew from behind. Before he could turn, sharp objects pierced his neck and bit down.
Gilbert, who had been ruling Cloud Peak Manor for a month, didn't even make a sound before a large golden dog chomped through his neck from behind.
Clarissa and her crew watched from the doorway, while William crouched on the villa's roof, taking in the bloody chaos below.
William's eyes shifted to another well-lit area where two small factions were based. Knowing there was a Seven Stars Alignment roulette here, he realized these people had two choices: die like Gilbert's crew or bow down to the new boss.
William needed more folks for the base, but...
He glanced at Gemma, who was having a blast with the killing, occasionally letting out these creepy laughs. She wasn't nuts; she was just blowing off steam.
Needing people and needing to kill weren't opposites; it just made things easier. As the future head honcho, William knew he couldn't handle things the same way anymore. He needed someone to do the dirty work and take the heat. Gemma was perfect for that.
When the smell of blood was at its peak, the slaughter finally ended. Gilbert and his crew were all toast.
One dead body and a pile of them hit different. Clarissa and her group turned pale but didn't dare bolt. They knew they weren't in charge anymore.
"Pill, get them here," William ordered, snapping his fingers. Pill swallowed a chunk of flesh, turned into golden light, and zipped out.
"Clean up, then hit the sack," William said, jumping down from the rooftop without a sound. "Tomorrow's a new day."
"Yves, you're asking for a lot this time. Hit the jackpot?" Spencer asked, squatting under the village's roulette and eyeing Yves' list of supplies.
"Nah, just found a new buyer, so I'm stocking up," Yves replied, handing Spencer a cigarette. His eyes lingered on Spencer's tobacco pipe, now a white-grade weapon with deep patterns and small holes for embedding something.
Yves was floored. Last time he saw this pipe, it was gray-grade. How did it level up so fast? He was now sure there was a special Craftsman in East Hill Village.
He thought of the generous strangers he met, all packing identical white Warblades. Clearly, they had Craftsmen too. He wondered how they stacked up against the one in East Hill Village.
"A new buyer? There are only a few groups around here who can afford your stuff. Newbies?" Spencer asked, surprised.
Yves hesitated but decided to spill some beans. "Yeah, ran into a new group. They seem to be heading to Cloud Peak Manor. This batch is for them."
Spencer nodded, tapping his tobacco pipe on the ground. "Yves, have you thought about what I mentioned last time?"
Yves' face soured. "Spencer, you know I have few people and even fewer guns. We wouldn't be much help. I'll stay out of it. With East Hill Village's strength, you can take that place easily. I'll just buy from you then."
Behind them, villagers approached with bags of supplies Yves needed.
"Is it the same to earn it yourself as it is to buy it? If you don't go this time, the price won't be cheap later," Spencer warned.
Yves scratched his head. "I'll think about it, but don't get your hopes up, Spencer."
"Suit yourself," Spencer replied, a bit miffed.
With the supplies loaded, Yves got ready to bounce. Spencer waved, saying, "Stay safe. If you run into the Lowe Family, tell them to come here."
"Got it!" Yves waved back and drove off with the convoy.
In the driver's seat, a young man asked quietly, "Mr. Walker, are we going there with them? I heard there are a lot of good things."
Yves glared at his subordinate. "Do you think it's a place you can just waltz into? Spencer's got no good intentions. It's a death trap; we'll get smoked!"
Yves thought for a moment, adding, "But, do you think the newcomers will join the fray if they hear about it?"
He took a deep drag on his cigarette, lost in thought.
