Chapter 165: Human Cannonball
Chapter 165: Human Cannonball
These weak humans were really noisy!
After seeing the fire, Demar left the office. He told Yamawang to protect a human called Susaka.
He had no choice; this man was their buyer. Freely hunting in this country would attract attention from the Fang Hunter organization. Since returning home, higher-ups changed their strategy. Through traffickers, they could freely buy large quantities of “food”. This money exchange eased food shortages and hid them from the Fang Hunters…
No need to overthink it. Susaka, scum among humans, was at least somewhat useful to them.
For this reason, Demar, the leather-clad man, decided to deal with this would-be assassin himself.
“Coming here alone to attempt assassination must mean he has some skill. But ultimately, it’s just human strength. He must have terrible luck…”
The world seemed to move in slow motion.
As Demar flew through the air, his thoughts flowed calmly. The sharp, blade-like tip of his metal-clad right claw inched closer and closer to the raincoat-clad soldier’s face.
“Hold on, what—?”
To Demar, everything around him slowed down. He moved so fast that normal humans couldn’t react. Human eyes have limits, and Demar’s reflexes, being a Corpse Hound, far exceeded theirs.
Yet, within those milleseconds, the soldier’s gaze flicked upward. Demar’s face twisted with disbelief.
“…Impossible. Could he see me?”
Whoosh!
The instant this shock hit Demar, Fang Jing’s body accelerated. He spun right, launching a kick with terrifying force, like a thunderbolt. It was power beyond anything human.
It was pure, boiling killing intent unleashed.
Like a heavy axe exploding across Demar’s right side. Demar’s consciousness blanked out mid-impact. His entire body shot backward like a baseball out of the park, flying over ten meters. Still airborne, a sickening crack-pop-pop echoed—the sound of bones shattering and piercing muscle.
The “Dark Dragon Force” detonated within his flesh like hidden thunder. Massive bursts of blood sprayed, a crimson mist filling the air. His upper and lower body slammed together like a folding chair. Internal organs were crushed to pulp by the force. Vertebrae and pelvis seemed kicked outward, splintered white bone shards showering out.
Then, with a heavy thud, he smashed into a wall over ten meters away, crashing straight through and landing unluckily deep within the roaring fire pit.
“Huh. Felt like I kicked something just now…”
Ah, well. His gaze moved to the dumbfounded men nearby.
“You. None of you escape.”
Die!
His burst state ignited. Fists swinging wildly, he charged back into the crowd.
Now, they all deserved death. Fang Jing became a whirlwind of death. Mercenaries blocking his path sprayed blood as they fell.
He flashed past a wave of bullets. He grabbed two mercenaries and spun them around like a giant meat grinder windmill. Even those merely close were swept by the force—spitting blood, bones breaking. The two in his hands? Twisted beyond recognition. Pulpy messes.
Screams, shrieks, sobs couldn’t stop Fang Jing. He hunted down anyone trying to flee. He wouldn’t let anyone leave.
Facing him, they were powerless dolls; he could crush them with a flick.
Fear, pleas, roars, despair—different emotions flickered on different faces. They scattered wildly, desperate to escape this hell. It was just a wild hope.
“No! Don’t kill me!”
A man was slammed to the ground, head spinning. He tried begging, but a foot stomped on his head. It crushed his face along with the cement in a deep crater. Eyeballs splattered out.
“Monster! I’ll fight you!”
Fang Jing glanced at him briefly. Moving like a ghost, he appeared before the man, twisted his neck, and snapped it.
“All dead! Dead! It’s not human—it’s a monster!”
One man spotted the danger first. He bolted for the main gate.
Suddenly, the ground vanished underfoot. He crashed down.
“No… No, please don’t kill me.”
He didn’t need to turn his head. He sensed a giant hand grabbing his leg, dragging him back. He kicked desperately, struggling wildly, but couldn’t break free.
Shadow of death consumed him. Sobbing violently, face broken, he shrieked, “I didn’t do anything! I know nothing! I just delivered things! The weapons, the women delivered… I—!”
Bang!
A fist obliterated his skull.
“Everyone in this factory took part in evil. Even if you didn’t join their crimes, you knew. That alone makes you their accomplice.”
Fang Jing understood it clearly. He wasn’t a partner of justice. He wasn’t here to fight crime.
Judging evil was a judge’s job.
He came here to wipe out this scum.
He rose slowly, seeing a figure emerge from the raging fire.
“Damn you!! What the hell are you?? A normal human who managed to hurt ME?!”
Demar was covered in flames, yet his horrific injuries healed at incredible speed.
Super-speed regeneration.
Fang Jing had sensed something wrong with his aura from the start.
Now it was clear… he wasn’t human.
That regenerative power? Almost certainly a Corpse Hound.
“A Corpse Hound? Didn’t expect… to find one here.”
Fang Jing turned. He had almost finished off Susaka’s men.
He knew another group was likely holed up in the Villa Area.
“You know I’m a ‘Corpse Hound’? Interesting human.”
Demar glared at him coldly, sizing him up. “No Exorcism Blade. Don’t look like a Fang Hunter. Yet you know about us. Really…”
His words died in his throat. A black shadow tore through the air like lightning—Fang Jing’s punch. His right fist like forged steel. Demar blinked, and the fist filled his vision, growing huge as it slammed toward him, overwhelming force promising to crush his face.
“So fast!”
Demar’s brow twitched. The meteor-like fist fell. He spread his arms wide to block it.
He was wrong again. Fang Jing’s punch—accelerated for massive impact—reached speeds and force beyond nightmare. Impossible to block. The blow shattered his forearms. The remaining force, brutal and direct, blasted into Demar’s body.
Crunch!
His entire rib cage caved in. Demar sailed through the air once more.
But it wasn’t over. Having confirmed a Nocturnal Species like this Corpse Hound stood before him, Fang Jing wouldn’t stop easily.
He leapt after him mid-flight. One palm slammed down onto Demar’s airborne forehead.
Bang! Monstrous force shattered his skull first. Then, like a mountain landslide, hidden force tore through him—ripping skin, breaking bones, pulverizing organs, extinguishing life.
Roar!
A normal human struck by such a punch-palm combo would look like run over by a heavy tank—a bloody paste.
But Demar still breathed. He roared. His head regenerated first. Flesh rapidly grew back. His steel claw blades sliced for Fang Jing’s throat.
Mid-air combat ensued. A dance of lightning and hawk strikes—each leap, twist, a blinding blur. Demar, half his body mangled pulp, still lashed back viciously. Brutal indeed.
Fang Jing didn’t dodge. One kick lashed out—faster than Demar’s claw. It slammed Demar hard onto the ground.
“Aaaagh!!”
Forces like 500 pounds crushed down. Demar felt an iron mountain crushing him. Before he could roll away, a giant foot stomped—his entire spine shattered.
Flesh flowed like water over broken bones. Regeneration began instantly.
“Regeneration, huh?!”
Fang Jing chuckled lowly. One thing was confirmed: this Corpse Hound’s healing was strong, but its combat power couldn’t touch his own.
“You. Are the Corpse Hound.”
Demar’s newly reforming face twisted painfully with fury as he glared back.
The next instant, his entire skull was stomped to fragments.
“Oh right. I’ve got good news and bad news for you. Which do you want first?…”
Before Demar finished regenerating, another kick snapped his spine.
“Fine. Good news first… the good news is… looks like I can’t kill you that fast right now.”
Crackle-squelch sounds erupted. Demar gasped, flesh churning, rippling, reforming.
“And the bad news—”
A fist slammed down. Straight through his heart.
Thump! It burst out his back.
“—is I can beat you half dead.”
(IMPOSSIBLE!! Just some lousy human trash… how could he?!)
Rage burned, stung by trampled pride.
Why?! Why? A pathetic human! Not even a Fang Hunter! No Exorcism Blade! Yet he tramples me so easily?!
I… am a Corpse Hound! One of the great race’s—
Demar’s thoughts blurred. Maybe he felt nothing anymore. That blow was just the start.
Next came the thundering boom-boom-boom-BOOM! Earth-moving strikes rained down like a pile driver centered on his body. Countless fists hammered, each impact shaking the ground violently. Pebbles, grit, jumped into the air with every thunderous blow, gravity yanking them back down.
Fang Jing threw hundreds, thousands of punches without a pause. Only stopping seemed to break his rhythm. He looked down at the pulpy mess squirming weakly below. After every punch, the mangled flesh tried reassembling, healing, regenerating.
Tragic. Beneath Fang Jing’s barrage, destruction outpaced regrowth. Demar couldn’t heal.
“DON’T! HURT! DEMAR!”
A strange, muffled roar boomed from afar. Fang Jing’s eyes lifted. A giant human cannonball of flesh flew toward him, hurtling through the air to crush him.