The man flinched as the blade pressed deeper into his neck.
"Three seconds," Ken growled. "Lie, and I slice your head off like a pig's. I've killed too many today. One more won't matter."
"Addison Drive!" the man yelled. "It's a laundromat, but that's just a cover. The real gambling den is inside. That's where they're hiding, I swear!"
Tears streaked down his blood-covered face. "I got a family. Please…"
"Family?" Ken repeated slowly.
"Yes! I...I got a wife. Little girl at home, man… please…"
Ken drew the blade back.
The guy sighed in relief, thinking it was over, only to feel the cold blade slice through his neck.
His hand shot up to stop the bleeding, but it kept spilling through his fingers.
"W…why?" he choked out, blood bubbling in his throat.
Slowly, Ken pulled down his mask, revealing a creepy grin that reached his ears.
"They'll be better off without scum like you… see you in hell."
Only one word crossed the man's mind when he saw that terrifying smile: Devil.
It was an ominous word, but the one that fit Ken best right now.
'Every action has a cost. Don't worry, your useless boss will be next.'
Just like before, he didn't feel a trace of guilt after killing. Instead, excitement and a sense of accomplishment took over.
His fingers brushed the corpse's head.
"Devour." he whispered.
First, strands of hair came free, drifting into his palm. Then, the skin tore away, stretching and ripping until only raw muscle showed beneath.
Muscle followed, unravelling like frayed rope, exposing bone bit by bit.
Piece by piece, the body vanished into nothingness.
The sight was grim, but Ken's mind wasn't on that. He thought about how much easier it would be if he could use the skill whenever he wanted.
Flexing his fingers, he gave it another shot.
Nothing.
'So it only worked on corpses.' His fingers twitched with disappointment.
Guess his combat skills would have to do for now.
Following that, his eyes fell on the other corpses.
It would be a waste to leave them, so he absorbed them quickly, hoping for another level up.
One by one, the bodies vanished.
Flesh, bone, blood, swallowed clean. But none of them gave him what he wanted.
He gave up on the level and checked the leftovers. Wallets. Loose cash.
Money ruled the world, and having a bit on hand wouldn't hurt, especially if he wanted to stay under the radar.
Though he knew what he had become, he still lacked the strength to act without restraint or break the law completely.
After wiping his hands on a scrap of cloth, he stepped away from the alley.
A taxi came around the corner, and he signalled for it to stop.
"Addison Drive," he said, sliding into the back seat.
The driver said nothing. Just nodded and started driving.
In the rear-view mirror, the driver tried to catch a glimpse of the passenger's face.
Ken turned his head, keeping as much of his face hidden as he could. With his mask up and jacket collar pulled high, he knew he looked suspicious.
His pale skin, streaked with dark blotches, stared back at him from the window.
The rest of his face looked almost normal, except for his oversized mouth, stretched and twisted.
Outside, everything moved on as if nothing had happened in the market.
Lights in the high-rises blinked behind dark curtains, neon signs flickered half-dead, and trash danced in the wind.
But on Addison Drive, one place still buzzed.
The laundromat looked normal enough at first, with old glass windows, a flickering "Open 24 Hours" sign, and a couple of chairs bolted to the sidewalk.
But the people there gave it away.
Half a dozen men lingered out front, standing like guard dogs.
His phone buzzed the moment the cab pulled up around the corner.
He wasn't surprised by the message because he told Robert the location ahead of time.
[Wait there. We're on our way. We'll make those bastards pay for messing with our turf.]
Exactly what Ken wanted.
If everything played out right, both gangs would destroy each other.
He paid the driver and stepped out without a word.
Then he waited.
Minutes passed in silence, the wind pushing old flyers and dead leaves across the pavement.
Then came the sound he had been waiting for: car engines.
Six vans came screaming around the corner.
Tires shrieked as they slammed to a stop across the street. Doors flew open before the vehicles had even finished rolling.
Robert's men poured out, hungry for blood, metal clenched tight. Knives, bats, machetes, and so on.
"Kill them!" one of the gangsters roared.
The laundromat door banged open in response.
Like angry wasps from a disturbed hive, Serpentel's members poured out, armed and hungry for a bloodbath.
Both sides collided in an instant.
It was an all-out rumble, the kind that would make anyone watching think they were inside a movie.
While the battle continued, Ken slipped into the shadows of the alley.
'I'm on my way, Nathalie. Just hold on.'