Hitman With A Badass System

Chapter 1363  Revenge on Rin Arc Begins

Michael rubbed his temples, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

"Of all the goddamn…" he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief. "That manipulative… that… Rin! Of course it was her."

But even as he cursed Lailah's stupidity, a part of him, a part he'd only recently begun to acknowledge, understood. He'd seen what his own mother, Harriet, had endured to protect him. The torture, the manipulation, the sheer willpower it had taken to withstand Skyhall's cruelty… it had changed his perspective.

He knew, now, that a mother's love could drive a person to do… crazy things. Desperate things. Things they'd never even consider under normal circumstances.

A part of him, the logical, strategic part, the part that had once been the Earth's deadliest assassin, screamed at Lailah's recklessness. But another part, a deeper, more primal part, the part that was slowly learning to embrace the complexities of family, of love, of the bonds that connected him to others… that part understood. He got it.

He might not agree with her decision, but he couldn't fault her for it. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"How?" Michael asked, his voice tight with a tension that went beyond anger. "How the hell did Rin manage to manifest herself in the mortal realm? I know she's been taking out Seed Bearers, weakening the barrier… but I thought she was busy with… other things."

He'd been so focused on Skyhall, on the prophecy, on his own goddamn power struggles, that he'd underestimated Rin. He'd assumed, with the Grimoire in her possession, that she'd be too preoccupied with her own twisted agenda to bother with him.

He'd been wrong.

The Princess of Murder, it seemed, still had him in her crosshairs. And now…Lailah had met her and that was never a good sign.

Silence fell between them after Lailah spoke and the looming threat of Rin, pressed down on them. Michael's mind raced, trying to grasp the implications, to figure out his next move. He was already mentally bumping Rin up his list of priorities, right alongside Andohr and the other power-hungry assholes gunning for his throne.

But before he could speak, Lailah continued, her voice quiet but firm. "I don't… care about this Rin," she said, her gaze fixed on Michael's. "All that matters is… Harry is safe. We're safe. With this grace… I can protect him. From anything."

Michael barely registered her words. He was already plotting, scheming, trying to figure out how to neutralize the Rin problem before it blew up in their faces. He'd deal with Lailah's… choices later.

But then she said something that made his blood run cold.

"I… I trusted you," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "I believed… I hoped… that you could… turn away from this path. That you could be… a part of his life. A father to him." She paused, her gaze hardening.

"But look at what you've done. You've killed your own brother. Plunged the realm into darkness. Where you go… death and destruction follow."

She gestured towards the academy, towards the innocent faces of the students, towards Harry, who was watching them from a distance, his eyes filled with a hope that Michael knew, deep down, he couldn't fulfill.

"Look at Diana. Your own mother. Captured by a god. God knows what Rowena has gone through. The Winstons… decimated. Eve… Eve died fighting for you, Michael. If she hadn't become your… friend… she'd still be alive."

Lailah took a step back, her eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored the darkness in the sky above them.

"We… we can't be a family, Michael. Not anymore."

Until now, Michael listened to her bullshit without batting an eye but the mention of Eve's death was the final straw. Michael, his grief still raw, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, snapped.

Dark lightning crackled around his wrists, a halo of pure, unrestrained power. His eyes, usually a steely gray, turned pitch black, the pupils vanishing into the depths of his fury. The mechanisms within his armor whirred, sensing the sudden spike in his heart rate, the surge of adrenaline and rage that coursed through his veins. The red lines etched into the black metal, usually dormant, began to glow, a menacing crimson that mirrored the bloodlust in his eyes.

"You should care about Rin, Lailah," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. The usual calmness was replaced by a guttural rasp. "Because Rin is the fucking Princess of Murder. One of the most cruel, sadistic bitches in the entire realm of the Gods. And you just made a deal with someone who's worse than the goddamn devil himself!"

Lailah's eyes widened, the full weight of his words, the implications of her actions, finally hitting her.

He took a step towards her, the shadows in the courtyard swirling around him like hungry spirits.

"And don't you dare bring Eve's name into this," he snarled. "Whether Harry wants me in his life or not… that's his choice. Not yours. And frankly," he added, his voice dripping with disdain. "I'm fucking tired of your holier-than-thou attitude, your self-righteous bullshit,"

He was this close to unleashing his fury. One blast of Wind magic, and Lailah would be a speck on the horizon, tasting dirt and regretting her choice of words. Michael wasn't one for double standards. He didn't care if you were a god, a mortal, or a fucking cockroach - disrespect Eve's memory, and you paid the price.

The only reason Lailah was still standing was… Harry. The boy was watching them, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion, and Michael, despite his rage, couldn't bring himself to traumatize the kid any further.

But before he could utter another word, a blood-red glow appeared in the sky. It started as a faint flicker, a smudge of crimson against the backdrop of eternal night, but it grew rapidly, approaching them like a comet, its trajectory aimed directly at the heart of Mazeroth.

Michael didn't hesitate. He wasn't about to wait for that goddamn comet to crash into Mazeroth, potentially harming Harry or the other students.

"Stay here," he barked at Lailah, his voice tight with urgency.

And then, with a surge of power, he launched himself into the sky. He was a black comet, a streak of darkness against the backdrop of the starless night, leaving a shockwave in his wake that sent tremors through the academy grounds.

Lailah, blinded by the eternal darkness that shrouded the mortal realm, couldn't see Michael's departure. But the blood-red comet was still visible, a menacing streak of crimson against the black canvas of the sky.

"How bright it would have been," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "if Noah hadn't…" She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Up in the sky, Michael soared towards the oncoming comet, his body a blur, his armor humming with restrained power. He activated his X-ray vision, his gaze piercing through the veil of red light that surrounded the object.

A figure, its form wreathed in a sickly green aura, was hurtling towards him at an impossible speed. And the smell… the metallic tang of blood, the cloying sweetness of decay… it hit him like a physical blow.

"Shit," he muttered, his gut twisting with a premonition of something truly awful.

He pushed forward, his speed increasing, his gaze narrowing as he got closer. The helmet mechanisms in his armor whirred, sensing his rising adrenaline, and the skull-like mask slid into place, sealing his face behind a cold, impassive barrier.

Just as he was about to collide with the comet, it stopped abruptly, the red light around it dissipating like smoke. And there, hovering in the air before him, was Tiberius.

His loyal subordinate. His… friend.

But something was wrong.

Tiberius's eyes, usually a warm brown, glowed with an unnatural crimson light. His lips were curled into a twisted grin, revealing teeth that were stained a sickly yellow. And the smell… the smell of blood and decay… it was coming from him.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on.

"Rin," Michael growled, his voice a low rumble of fury.

As Michael stared at the twisted mockery of his subordinate, he activated his night vision, his gaze sharpening. That's when he saw it.

The red smoke… it wasn't smoke. It was blood.

Tiberius's body was riddled with stab wounds. Deep, jagged gashes that oozed a thick, crimson liquid that vaporized instantly upon contact with the air, creating that eerie red mist that had surrounded him like a macabre halo.

His armor, once pristine, was shredded, soaked in blood. And his face… his face was a mask of agony, his eyes wide and unseeing, his lips pulled back in a silent scream.

"Son of a bitch," Michael muttered, his gut twisting with a mixture of fury and grief.

He knew, with a sickening certainty, that Tiberius was as good as dead. There were too many wounds, too much blood loss. Even his most potent healing potions wouldn't be enough to save him. Not with those deep gashes in his head, his chest…

Rin had done this. She'd possessed him, forced him to turn his own blade on himself, used his body as a… a goddamn puppet.

He wasn't technically dead yet. If one of his subordinates died, the System would have notified him. But the moment Rin left Tiberius's body… well, there'd be nothing left to save.

"Did you miss me, Ghost?" Rin's voice, lilting and playful, yet chillingly cold, echoed from Tiberius's mangled lips.

Michael's fists clenched, his knuckles crackling with dark energy. He wanted to rip her soul out, to burn it with his darkest flames, to make her suffer for what she'd done to Tiberius.

But he knew it wouldn't work. Rin was too smart, too cunning. This… possession, whatever the hell it was, was just a sliver of her power, a tiny fraction of her soul, a goddamn puppet show. Controlling a mortal like Tiberius was child's play for the Princess of Murder. And with the barrier weakened… well, she could practically waltz in and out of the mortal realm as she pleased.

He forced himself to remain calm, to keep his anger in check.

"Oh, I remember you, alright, Rin," Michael growled, his voice a low rumble of fury. "You just made damn sure I'll never forget you. And trust me, being remembered by me… it's should not be on your fucking bucket list."

Rin's laughter, a tinkling sound that was somehow more unsettling than the rasping death rattle escaping Tiberius's lips, echoed through the night.

"You've been gone too long, Ghost," she purred. "Things are getting… boring in the realm of the Gods without you."

But Michael remained unmoved.

"You crossed the line, Rin," he said, his voice cold, hard. "This time… you've gone too far. I'll be coming back to the realm of the Gods soon. And when I do… I'll be coming for you. I'll find you. And I'll give you a whole new definition of the word murder. "