Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1140 Chainsaw



Chapter 1140: Chapter 1140 Chainsaw

Then knives—shimmering, razor-sharp, and dozens of them—materialized out of thin air, hovering behind him like the wings of a metallic demon.

Sabrina gasped.

"W–Wil—"

Wilson flicked his wrist.

The first wave of blades shot forward with terrifying speed.

They struck Ross’s shoulders with brutal force.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Ross was ripped out of Sabrina’s arms as he was thrown backward, his body twisting violently from the impact.

Sabrina stumbled forward with a scream, her hands reaching out in a helpless reflex.

More knives appeared.

This time, hundreds.

They filled the air in a swirling vortex of death before Wilson clenched his fist and sent them flying.

The next instant was a nightmare.

The blades plunged into Ross’s chest, stomach, back—everywhere.

Puchi

Puchi

Puchi

They sliced, pierced, and tore through him, turning his body into a human pincushion.

Blood sprayed in all directions, warm droplets splashing onto Sabrina’s face and dress.

She fell to her knees, paralyzed by shock and horror.

Ross crashed to the ground, his body twitching once... twice... before going completely still.

Knives protruded from him at every angle, his body nearly unrecognizable beneath the forest of steel.

A puddle of blood rapidly spread out from under him, staining the floor.

Screams erupted all around as the drunken crowd finally realized what was happening.

People stumbled away, tripping over chairs, crawling across the floor, anything to escape.

But through the chaos, Wilson stood proudly, chest heaving, eyes locked on Ross’s unmoving figure.

"Easier than killing a dog," he sneered, stepping forward with a chilling grin. "Ross fuck you so much... tonight you die like the trash you are."

Sabrina sobbed, reaching toward Ross’s blood-soaked hand, her entire body shaking.

And Wilson’s men—sober, eager, and trembling with bloodlust—began to surround her.

"Hahaha! You’re mine now, bitch!" Wilson lunged forward, fingers stretched wide, his face twisted with triumph as he reached for Sabrina.

But before his hand could touch even a strand of her hair—

the world blinked.

Sabrina vanished.

The hall vanished.

The drunk people vanished.

The screams, the music, the smell of alcohol—

everything dissolved into nothingness.

Wilson stumbled forward violently, nearly falling on his face.

His men yelled, some drawing weapons out of instinct, others gripping their heads in confusion as the air around them warped and twisted.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then a soft hum began to vibrate through the darkness—low, deep, like the heartbeat of some enormous creature lurking just out of sight.

Light flared.

A pale blue radiance expanded across the floor, revealing a vast chamber that stretched further than their eyes could see.

The ceiling arched high above them, disappearing into shadows.

Massive pillars of glossy black stone lined the circular dome, each one carved with intricate patterns that pulsed faintly with light.

The floor beneath them was polished obsidian, so smooth it mirrored their terrified faces perfectly.

"Where... where the hell are we?" one of Wilson’s men whispered, voice cracking.

"Boss...?" another muttered, stepping closer to Wilson. "What’s going on?"

Wilson didn’t answer. He was scanning the chamber with wild, uneven breaths, panic clawing up his spine.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as the realization hit him—

This wasn’t anything human-made.

This was something else. Something beyond their understanding.

Then every man froze.

Because at the far end of the dome, illuminated by a single shaft of light like a spotlight from the heavens, stood an enormous throne.

It was carved from dark stone and bone, with jagged edges rising like the wings of a demon.

The platform supporting it had multiple steps, each glowing faintly with sigils etched in fiery red.

And on that throne...

Sat a man.

Casual. Relaxed. Almost bored.

But unmistakably alive.

Unmistakably Ross.

Wilson’s jaw dropped, his face draining of color.

"R... Ross?! W–What—That’s impossible! I killed you! I fucking killed you!"

Ross didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he slowly lifted his hands and—

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

The sound echoed with unnatural volume, bouncing off the great dome and crashing back into them like rolling thunder.

Each clap seemed to slap Wilson across the face, mocking, humiliating, taunting.

Ross leaned forward, elbows resting lightly on his knees.

"You know... watching your face right now is extremely satisfying," he said calmly, a cold smile touching his lips.

"The confusion. The fear. The stupidity."

He chuckled.

"You didn’t expect this, did you? Honestly, I can’t blame you. You and your little band of half-brained thugs never did have very high IQ."

Wilson stumbled backward, shaking.

"This isn’t real! This isn’t real! You were dead! I—"

Ross raised a finger.

Instant silence.

"You think a handful of knives can kill me?" Ross asked, tilting his head. "Me? Wilson, Wilson... you really are a clown."

His smile widened, revealing a hint of something dark beneath the calm expression.

"And the world needs clowns, you know. Without idiots like you, life would just be too boring."

Wilson’s men exchanged terrified glances, gripping their weapons tighter.

Ross tapped his finger on the throne’s armrest.

"Oh, right. Your extras."

He raised his hand and flicked his fingers lazily.

The air trembled.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

In flashes of light, bodies appeared around the chamber—men materializing one after another until over a hundred reinforcements crowded the space.

Many of them stumbled as they arrived, dizzy and disoriented.

"Boss!"

"What the hell?!"

"Why are we here? I was outside guarding the trucks!"

"I—I was in the bathroom just now!"

The new arrivals looked around wildly, panic spreading like wildfire as they realized none of this made sense.

Wilson swallowed hard, throat tight, eyes darting everywhere.

Ross watched them like a king observing insects from far above.

"Good," he said softly, resting his chin on his hand again. "Now everyone is here."

A ripple of cold energy radiated from Ross, sweeping across the dome and raising goosebumps on every man’s skin. His voice deepened, echoing unnaturally.

"No one leaves.

No one escapes.

And no one will die without understanding exactly why."

He leaned back on his throne.

"Shall we begin?"


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