Chapter 81 – Don’t Move

Shin began to sweat inside his Halochassis power armor. Although the armor's interior was designed to protect its wearer from extreme temperatures and the pressure of combat, the moisture gathering against his skin made him painfully aware of his own nervousness. His breathing grew heavier, and every movement of his fingers against the controls felt unusually stiff. Through Azazel's helmet, he watched Qinglong hold Risha hostage, the monster's grotesque claws pressed dangerously close to her throat. 

“Shin! Shin!” Risha cried, her voice trembling as Qinglong tightened his grip around her neck. The sharp tips of his claws began digging into her skin, leaving thin red marks that stood out against her pale flesh. Risha instinctively tilted her head away from the jagged appendages, desperately trying to avoid cutting herself, but there was barely enough room for her to breathe comfortably. Shin could hear the strain in her voice, and the sight of her struggling against Qinglong's enormous hand made his stomach twist. He wanted nothing more than to tear the bastard apart, yet he knew that charging forward without a plan would only give Qinglong an opportunity to finish her off.

“You fucking coward! Some Ultimate Dragon Warrior you are!” Azazel roared. Shin raised the Halochassis's gamma ray magnums, their massive barrels trained on Qinglong as the weapons' internal mechanisms hummed with barely contained energy. The armor's targeting system searched for a clean shot, highlighting possible trajectories across Shin's field of vision, but every angle carried an unacceptable risk. Qinglong's head was exposed, yet Risha was trapped within his grasp, and even the slightest miscalculation could turn a successful attack into a fatal mistake. Shin tightened his fingers around the controls, resisting the urge to pull the trigger. He hated that Qinglong had forced him into this position, where having the power to kill his enemy meant nothing if he could not guarantee Risha's safety.

“I'm going away with princess here. Don't you dare follow, Shin Rebellium!” Qinglong laughed, his distorted voice echoing through the manor. Blood oozed from his jaws, dripping down his chin and staining the front of his already ruined body. The thick, dark fluid mixed with the foul discharge leaking from the cancerous tumors that had spread throughout his mouth. Every time he opened his jaws, wet clicking sounds escaped from between the swollen masses of flesh, accompanied by a nauseating stench that hung in the air. 

Despite his grotesque condition, Qinglong seemed to find the situation amusing. He had Shin exactly where he wanted him, and the knowledge that his enemy could do nothing without endangering Risha only made his laughter louder.

At this point, Qinglong's entire body had been transformed into an aberration, a grotesque mockery of the handsome, muscular warrior he had once been. His former appearance was almost impossible to recognize beneath the masses of swollen flesh and tumors that distorted his proportions. His back had become severely hunched, forcing his misshapen torso forward, while his enormous right arm hung beside him like an oversized limb torn from some monstrous creature. His left foot had swollen to an absurd size, its heavy shape making every step uneven and awkward. Worst of all was the gigantic eye embedded in his deformed body, its surface riddled with tumors that bulged like diseased growths. The sight of it was enough to make Shin's skin crawl, but the nightmare did not end there. A human foot had sprouted from Qinglong's neck, its toes twitching occasionally as though it possessed a life of its own. The entire creature looked like the result of some grotesque experiment gone horribly wrong, yet it remained dangerously capable of killing anyone who stood in its way.

Shin's thoughts raced as he searched for a solution. He had only a split second to make his decision, but the consequences would follow him for the rest of his life. If he allowed Qinglong to escape, the bastard would expose his secrets to Lireina. Once she learned that Shin Rebellium was the person behind Azazel's armor, their relationship might never be the same again. She could see him as a liar who had deceived her from the beginning, and the trust they had slowly built might crumble beyond repair. Shin could not afford to let that happen. He had already endured too much to reach this point, and he refused to lose everything because he had hesitated at the final moment. Whatever the cost, he had to stop Qinglong here, even if it meant putting Risha in danger.

Besides, Shin reminded himself that Risha would understand if she got hurt because of him. He knew about her crush on him, and although he had never seriously considered what her feelings meant, he understood that she trusted him more than she probably should. That trust was precisely what made his decision so difficult. Risha had placed her life in his hands, believing that he would find a way to save her, and Shin had no intention of betraying that faith. Yet a cruel part of him wondered whether she would forgive him if his shot went wrong. Would she still look at him the same way if she suffered because he had chosen to protect his own secret? He pushed the thought aside before it could weaken his resolve. There was no time to dwell on possibilities. He had to act, and he had to make his shot count.

All of a sudden, Azazel's helmet began to unfold, its armored plates retracting with a series of mechanical clicks. The metal components slid away from Shin's face, exposing his features to the cold air of the manor. Qinglong's grotesque eye remained fixed on him, while Risha struggled to turn her head enough to see the man standing before her. Shin ignored the unpleasant sensation of sweat trickling down his temple. Instead, he looked directly into Risha's eyes and gave her a small, reassuring smile. It was not the confident grin of a hero who knew he would win, nor was it the expression of someone who had everything under control. It was simply the smile of a man asking someone to trust him, even when he could not promise that everything would be all right.

“Risha,” Shin muttered.

“Shin.” Risha's eyes twinkled as she met his gaze. Despite the claws digging into her throat and the monstrous creature holding her captive, something in Shin's expression seemed to reassure her. The fear that had tightened her features began to ease, replaced by a fragile smile. She did not know what he intended to do, but she could see the determination in his eyes. For a brief moment, the horrible surroundings seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of them staring at each other across the short distance separating them.

“Don't move.”

The moment those words left Shin's mouth, Risha understood that he was asking her to trust him completely. She stopped struggling against Qinglong's grip, allowing her body to relax as much as the monster's claws would permit. Then she smiled and gently closed her eyes, surrendering herself to whatever Shin had planned. She did not ask whether he was certain, nor did she beg him to save her. Risha had spent enough time with Shin to know that he was not the kind of man who would make such a decision lightly. If he told her not to move, she would not move. If he told her to trust him, she would do so without hesitation, even if the next thing she heard was the sound of a gunshot that might end her life.

“Kahahaha!” Qinglong burst into laughter, his misshapen body swaying from side to side. Blood and saliva dribbled from his jaws as he struggled to contain his amusement, and the enormous eye embedded in his deformed flesh twitched with every movement. His unsteady swaying made it increasingly difficult for Shin's targeting system to maintain a clean lock on his head. Each time the crosshairs settled over Qinglong's skull, the monster shifted just enough to throw off the aim. Qinglong knew exactly what he was doing, and his laughter grew louder as he watched Shin struggle to find an opening.

“You fool! Are you going to shoot your—”

Before Qinglong could finish his sentence, a powerful gunshot rang through the manor.

The deafening report shattered the tense silence, its echo bouncing off the stone walls and reverberating through the corridors. The gamma ray magnum discharged with a violent flash, briefly illuminating the room as the weapon's recoil traveled through Azazel's armored arm. Shin felt the impact shudder through the Halochassis, and the sudden burst of sound left his ears ringing. For a fraction of a second, everything seemed to freeze. Then Qinglong's enormous body lurched backward, his laughter abruptly cut short as his head snapped from the force of the shot. His grip loosened, and his misshapen limbs crumpled beneath him. He hit the pavement with a heavy, sickening thud, the back of his head slamming against the hard surface as blood splattered across the surrounding stone. The grotesque eye twitched once before becoming still, while the tumors covering his ruined body ceased their restless movements.

It was a perfect headshot. Somehow, despite the swaying target, the hostage, and the overwhelming pressure of the moment, Shin had managed to pull it off. He stared at Qinglong's motionless body through Azazel's targeting display, waiting for the monster to move again. Part of him expected the bastard to rise from the ground, regenerate his shattered skull, and resume laughing as though nothing had happened. Yet the body remained still, and the only sounds left in the manor were the faint hum of the Halochassis and Shin's own uneven breathing. He slowly lowered his weapon, his fingers still gripping the controls as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

“Huh.” Shin muttered to himself, blinking at the fallen monster. “I did it.”

Even as he spoke, he could barely believe his own words. His hands trembled slightly inside the armor, and his heart continued pounding against his ribs as the adrenaline coursing through his body refused to settle. He had imagined countless ways to defeat Qinglong, but never had he expected the final shot to come down to a single moment of sheer luck.

“Shin!” Risha cried.

Before Shin could say anything else, Risha broke free from her now-slackened bondage and rushed toward him. Her footsteps scraped against the pavement as she closed the distance between them, and she threw her arms around Azazel's armored body with enough force to make Shin take a small step backward. The armor's cold metal plates pressed against her cheek, but she did not seem to care. She clung to him tightly, as though she had been holding her breath throughout the entire confrontation and could finally allow herself to breathe again. Shin felt her trembling through the armor, and the sensation reminded him that she had been just as terrified as he was, even if she had chosen to place her trust in him.

“I knew you could do it!” Risha exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and genuine happiness. She tightened her embrace, pressing herself against the armored chest as if she never wanted to let go. The smile on her face was brighter than anything Shin had seen during the confrontation, and the sight made his chest feel strangely warm despite the thick metal separating them. For a moment, he forgot about Lireina, his secrets, and the possibility of Qinglong returning to life. All he could think about was the woman who had trusted him with her life and was now holding him as though he had performed some incredible feat.

I never thought I would do it, Shin thought to himself.

Honestly, Shin figured that Risha would survive either way. Even if his magnum missed its intended target and struck her instead, she would probably recover eventually because of her connection to the Phoenix Clan. Her ability to resurrect herself meant that an ordinary fatal injury would not necessarily be the end of her life. Of course, Shin had no idea whether her resurrection would come with an unpleasant side effect, such as growing cancerous cells throughout her body. Considering what had happened to Qinglong, he supposed that the possibility was worth considering. The thought was disturbing, but it did not bother him nearly as much as it probably should have. After all, he had already pulled the trigger, and there was no point worrying about an outcome that had never happened.

Besides, it had been a gamble worth taking.

And honestly, Shin couldn't care less about Risha. He had no particular desire to see her dead, but if her life had been the price of keeping his identity a secret, he would have paid it without hesitation. His relationship with Lireina mattered far more to him than whatever feelings Risha had developed for him. If the choice came down to protecting his secret or protecting Risha, he would choose himself every single time. He had no intention of letting his carefully constructed life fall apart just because someone else had placed her trust in him. That might have made him a terrible person, but Shin had long since stopped pretending that he was a hero.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” Qinglong screamed from the ground. “That huuuuuuurt!”

The grotesque mass of flesh that had once been his head began to twitch violently. Blood oozed between the swollen tumors as new tissue slowly formed, attempting to reconstruct the damage caused by Shin's shot. The regeneration was working, but the results were anything but normal. Instead of restoring his handsome face and muscular body, Qinglong's healing abilities produced more tumors, each one sprouting from the previous growths like some hideous disease spreading out of control. Flesh bulged and twisted around his skull, while thin strands of tissue stretched between the growing masses before snapping with wet little pops. His brain was rebuilding itself, but whatever remained of his natural anatomy was becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish from the cancerous growths surrounding it.

Worse still, Qinglong could barely move. His enormous limbs had become useless weights, and the unnatural growths covering his body prevented him from coordinating even the simplest movements. Whenever he attempted to lift an arm or turn his head, his flesh merely quivered in response. His thoughts were just as disorganized. He struggled to understand what had happened, why his regeneration had betrayed him, and how Shin had managed to turn him into such a miserable creature. The pain was overwhelming, but the confusion made it even worse. His mind kept slipping away from whatever thought he tried to hold on to, leaving him trapped in a haze of agony and frustration.

Shin watched him struggle for a moment before raising both gamma ray magnums. The weapons hummed as their internal mechanisms powered up, and the faint glow of their energy conduits reflected off the armor's metallic surfaces. He pointed both barrels at Qinglong, who could do little more than twitch helplessly on the pavement. Then, without bothering to offer another warning, Shin began firing.

The first shot struck Qinglong's shoulder, tearing through the swollen flesh and leaving a fresh mass of tumors in its wake. The next hit his abdomen, followed by another that ripped into his misshapen leg. Each radioactive projectile inflicted further damage, but Qinglong's regeneration only made the situation more grotesque. New tumors emerged wherever the bullets struck, swelling rapidly until they merged with the existing growths. Blood splattered across the stone floor, and the sharp reports of the magnums echoed through the manor as Shin continued his relentless assault.

For once, Shin had a living target that could not fight back.

He found the experience strangely satisfying. There was no need to worry about Qinglong dodging his attacks, retaliating with a devastating technique, or destroying the surrounding area with his overwhelming strength. The Ultimate Dragon Warrior, once a formidable opponent whose name inspired fear, had been reduced to a helpless mass of diseased flesh. Shin could take his time, adjust his aim, and fire whenever he pleased. Every successful hit produced another grotesque growth, transforming Qinglong's body into something even more repulsive than before. The sight should have made Shin feel sick, but instead, he found himself enjoying the spectacle. After everything Qinglong had done, watching him suffer felt like a fitting reward.

He continued firing until the magnums' reports became almost routine, each shot followed by another burst of blood and another eruption of abnormal tissue. Qinglong's screams rose and fell between the gunshots, sometimes loud enough to drown out the weapons themselves, sometimes reduced to weak, broken noises that barely resembled human speech. His body writhed as much as its ruined anatomy allowed, but there was nowhere for him to go and nothing he could do to stop the assault. The stench of blood and diseased flesh grew heavier in the enclosed space, yet Shin remained unmoved. He simply kept pulling the triggers until he finally decided that he had seen enough.

By then, Qinglong was no longer recognizable as either a human being or a monster. His original body had disappeared beneath an enormous, misshapen blob of tumors, swollen flesh, and exposed tissue. Random body parts protruded from the mass at awkward angles, some twitching involuntarily while others hung limp and motionless. The whole thing resembled a gigantic infected pimple that had grown far beyond anything nature should have allowed, its surface glistening with blood and pus. There was no trace of the handsome warrior who had once carried himself with pride, nor was there anything left of the imposing figure who had called himself the Ultimate Dragon Warrior. All that remained was an abomination of flesh, trapped inside a body that continued regenerating without any regard for what it was becoming.

“aaaaaAAaaaaah,” Qinglong wailed, his voice cracking as blood gushed from his eyes. The liquid ran down the uneven surface of his tumors, disappearing into the folds of his swollen flesh. He tried to scream louder, but his ruined mouth could barely form the sounds he wanted to make. Every movement seemed to bring another wave of pain, and every attempt at regeneration only made his condition worse. He could no longer even raise his head to look at Shin properly. All he could do was lie there and suffer, desperately wishing for the nightmare to end.

“I'm sorry, Qinglong.” Shin gave him a smug smile, his face visible beneath Azazel's unfolded helmet. There was no genuine remorse in his voice. If anything, he sounded amused by the pathetic creature writhing before him. “I like the way you cry and plead for help. That will be the only thing you'll do for the rest of time. I wish you could kill yourself, but that would be an escape from the sins you have committed.”

“aaAaaAAAh!” Qinglong screamed again. His teeth began falling from his ruined mouth, clattering against the pavement as blood trickled between his swollen gums. He tried to form words, perhaps to curse Shin or beg him to stop, but his thoughts were too fragmented to organize into anything coherent. His jaw trembled, and another pathetic cry escaped his throat. Whatever dignity he had once possessed was gone, leaving behind only a suffering creature that could no longer make anyone recognize the man he had been.

“Farewell, Ultimate Dragon Warrior,” Shin said.

He lowered his magnums and turned away from the grotesque mass on the pavement. Risha followed close behind him, casting one final glance at Qinglong before returning her attention to Shin. The two of them walked toward the manor's exit, their footsteps echoing through the otherwise silent building. Shin's armored boots struck the stone floor with steady, mechanical thuds, while Risha's lighter footsteps followed a short distance behind. Neither of them said anything as they approached the doorway. There was nothing left to discuss, and Shin had no intention of wasting another moment on the man he had just reduced to a living nightmare.

Once they reached the exit, Shin pulled the door open and stepped outside with Risha. The cold night air greeted them, carrying the faint sounds of the distant city and the rustling of leaves beyond the manor grounds. Behind them, the interior remained dark and silent. Shin reached back and shut the door, the heavy wooden panel closing with a deep thud that echoed through the abandoned building. The sound marked the end of their confrontation, separating the two departing figures from the creature they had left behind.

Inside the manor, Qinglong continued to cry.

His screams rose into the darkness, echoing through empty corridors and bouncing off walls that offered no comfort. He called for help whenever his damaged mind managed to remember what help meant, but nobody came. There was no one left to hear him, no one who could recognize his voice, and no one who would willingly approach the horrifying mass of flesh hidden behind the closed door. Even if someone eventually discovered him, they would struggle to believe that this grotesque creature had once been Qinglong, the mighty Ultimate Dragon Warrior whose name had commanded fear and respect.

His body would continue to regenerate, producing more tumors and abnormal growths as his ruined anatomy struggled to repair itself. His mind might recover enough to understand his predicament, but that would only make his existence more unbearable. He could neither escape his body nor bring his own suffering to an end. Once celebrated as one of the world's greatest warriors, Qinglong had been reduced to an unrecognizable blob of diseased flesh, abandoned in the darkness with nothing but his pain and his fading thoughts for company.

Qinglong may be immortal, but his life was truly over.