Chapter 16: Art

Several minutes earlier, Sofia Moretti had been regretting every decision that had brought her to the restaurant.

She had already decided to leave before Lorenzo returned from the restroom.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t even managed to stand up when the explosion tore through the building.

The blast threw her chair backward, sending her crashing to the floor.

For several seconds, she couldn’t hear anything.

Her ears rang painfully, and dust filled her lungs as she struggled to breathe.

When she finally managed to lift her head, the restaurant had become unrecognizable.

The windows had shattered.

Tables had overturned.

People were screaming.

And blood was everywhere.

Sofia stared at the devastation, unable to comprehend what had happened.

Then someone grabbed her by the arm.

"Get up!"

She flinched violently.

A masked man stood over her, his rifle pointed toward her chest.

"Move!"

Sofia scrambled to her feet.

Her first instinct was to resist.

She was an Awakener, after all. Although she hadn’t yet attended Golden Dawn Academy, she possessed abilities that ordinary people could only dream of.

But the sight of the rifle made her hesitate.

She didn’t know how strong the man was.

She didn’t know how many others were nearby.

And she had no idea what these people wanted.

Acting recklessly could get her killed before she even had a chance to fight back.

So she obeyed.

The masked man shoved her toward a group of civilians gathered near the damaged entrance.

"Keep moving! Anyone who tries anything gets shot!"

Sofia stumbled forward, her heart pounding.

As she passed a fallen table, she caught sight of a woman lying motionless beneath it.

A young man knelt beside her, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.

"Please! Someone help her!"

BAAM—!

A gunshot rang out.

The young man collapsed, he was dead.

Sofia froze.

The masked man behind her immediately grabbed her shoulder and shoved her forward.

"Keep moving, bitch!"

She nearly fell, but managed to catch herself.

Her entire body trembled.

She had seen violence before. Living in a world dominated by Awakeners meant that danger was never entirely absent.

But this was different.

These men weren’t fighting over territory or settling personal grudges.

They were slaughtering people who couldn’t fight back.

And Sofia was beginning to understand something terrifying.

These men had no intention of letting their hostages leave alive.

-----

10 minutes later....

Lorenzo stood in front of the elevator, waiting for it to reach his floor. His body was covered in dried blood, and in his right hand, he held a long black dagger he had taken from a terrorist’s corpse.

It’s taking too long!

Lorenzo took a deep breath to calm himself before turning his head to look behind him.

The entire corridor had turned into a graveyard.

Bodies lay scattered across the polished floor, belonging to both civilians and staff members. Most were dead, while a few were still moving, moaning as they slowly succumbed to their wounds. Nobody was coming to help them.

Every terrorist Lorenzo encountered, he killed silently, efficiently, and mercilessly. One had his throat slit from behind, another had his eye stabbed through the socket and into his brain, and a third had his heart pierced between his ribs with such precision that he didn’t even have time to scream.

But there was something Lorenzo hadn’t expected.

Because of his [Perfectionist] trait, he felt compelled to kill in a way that satisfied his standards.

If a corpse wasn’t symmetrical, he would cut its body parts until everything was balanced.

At that moment, Lorenzo turned his gaze toward the floor near the elevator.

Another dead terrorist lay there, but this one was headless.

He remembered how the man had begged for mercy before Lorenzo put him to eternal sleep.

....

"Please, have mercy! I have a small child, and my wife is dead, so the child will have to live as an orphan!"

"You should have thought about that before doing all this and taking MY SOFIA AWAY FROM ME!"

"My lord, I beg you—!"

Lorenzo didn’t know whether the man’s story was true.

It might have been an improvised lie to save himself, or there might have been a child eagerly awaiting their father’s return from work.

In fact, Lorenzo had been a little moved by the man’s pleas. However, he had thought that if the mother had already passed away, it would be symmetrical for the father to die as well.

Truly, this trait had no limits or moral standards.

When something is asymmetrical, I feel compelled to fix it. And right now, I have to kill him in a way that leaves behind a perfectly symmetrical corpse.

Without waiting any longer, Lorenzo swung his dagger. The kneeling man’s head rolled away, staining the floor with blood.

"Well..."

But the cut wasn’t what he had hoped for.

It wasn’t straight. It was oblique.

Now I have to cut him again!

Without wasting another moment, Lorenzo carefully adjusted the cut along the man’s neck, where blood was still dripping.

With the help of his [Perfectionist] trait, he made the line perfectly symmetrical.

It was art.

An artist performing a craft he’d spent decades mastering.

Lorenzo stared at the corpse for a few seconds before finally looking away.

Much better.

The satisfaction that washed over him was immediate.

What a troublesome ability.

Lorenzo rubbed his forehead.

He had no intention of allowing a trait to dictate his life. Yet the satisfaction it provided made resisting it considerably more difficult than he had anticipated.

The worst part was that he couldn’t simply ignore the compulsion.

Whenever he encountered something imperfect, his attention gravitated toward it. The longer he looked, the harder it became to resist the urge to fix it.

It was like an itch buried deep beneath his skin.

He could ignore it for a while, but eventually, it became unbearable.

And the moment he gave in, the satisfaction made him want to do it again.

A metallic chime interrupted his thoughts.

DING!

Lorenzo immediately turned toward the elevator.

The doors slid open.

Finally.

Lorenzo stepped inside and pressed the button for the floor he wanted to reach.

The elevator doors closed.

He tightened his grip on the dagger.

He was going to get Sofia back.

And God help anyone who stood in his way.