Hitman With A Badass System

Chapter 1385  How to draw out Agra?

Hearing Gaya, Fayeth frowned. The idea of killing Agra's followers… it felt wrong. She was an Angel of Healing, after all. Her purpose was to save lives, not take them.

But she wasn't naive. She'd seen the darkness that had consumed the Verdant Sanctuary, the suffering Agra had inflicted on her people, on the beasts, on the very land itself. She knew, deep down, that Agra's death was necessary. A sacrifice that had to be made to restore balance, to heal the wounds he'd inflicted.

You had to cauterize the wound, before you could start healing. And who better to wield the cauterizing iron than the God of Darkness? He had, after all, a proven track record when it came to god-killing.

Gaya, on the other hand, was practically bouncing with excitement. She'd been itching for a fight, a chance to kick some ass and this plan… this was perfect.

"Ooh, this is gonna be fun," she purred, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "We could… hang them from the trees! Like… grotesque ornaments! Or maybe… send Agra a little gift basket. Filled with body parts! Or better yet," she added, a wicked grin spreading across her face, "We could flay them alive! And leave their skins as a message. He'd definitely get the hint then. Or," she continued, her excitement growing with each gruesome idea, "we could capture them, torture them, and make them scream really loud. You know, just to make sure Agra hears us."

Fayeth stared at her, momentarily speechless. Gaya she was definitely a goddess alright. And a perfect match for the God of Darkness. She was the chaos to his calm, the fire to his ice, and the incredibly violent, foul-mouthed sadist to his quietly menacing, stoic badass character.

"I like the hanging them from trees idea," Michael said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "And the gift basket. We'll send Agra a few heads. That should get his attention,"

But then he paused, his brow furrowing in thought.

"The forest… it heals, doesn't it? If we hang them, they'll just regenerate,"

He turned to Fayeth, his gaze questioning.

"Can you… stop that from happening? Can you… prevent the forest from healing them?"

"Stop the forest from healing?" Fayeth repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Why would you want to do that?"

She realized, a moment too late, how… naive… that sounded.

Gaya chuckled, shaking her head.

"It's okay to be good, Fayeth," she said, her voice laced with a sardonic amusement. "But there's a fine line between innocent and fucking stupid. And you, my dear, are about to cross it. It's like, you see a steaming pile of shit, and you think 'Ooh, that looks warm and inviting, let me stick my hand in it and see what happens.' It's called common sense. Not everything that glitters is gold. Or, in this case, not every motherfucker who asks for help is as innocent as a newborn babe,"

Fayeth took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing slightly. She was an angel. Kindness, compassion, healing… it was in her nature. But she wasn't stupid. Not entirely.

"I can do it," she said, her voice regaining its firmness. "I'm Ava's Angel. I have a certain influence over this forest. I can stop its healing magic. For them."

"Wonderful," Gaya grinned, clapping her hands together excitedly. "Let's go kill some bitches."

"Not yet," Michael said, holding up a hand. "Let's give those… hunting parties… a little time. To regroup. Send out another search party. We want to make sure we catch them all."

"They don't know that you've dealt with the first group, do they?" Fayeth asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"How did you know about the hunting parties, Fayeth?" Gaya asked, her gaze narrowing slightly.

Fayeth shrugged. "I'm connected to this domain. To its creatures. Just like all of Ava's angels."

A thoughtful expression crossed Gaya's face. She glanced around the forest, at the towering trees, the shimmering hot springs and the absence of any other angels.

"Speaking of angels" she mused. "Where are the other Angels of Ava?"

Fayeth's smile faltered as a shadow of sadness clouded her eyes. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"After Ava disappeared they scattered. Some searched for her. Some blamed her. Said she abandoned us. Some were angry at the worshippers. At their betrayal. They left the domain, said they wanted nothing to do with such ungrateful wretches." She sighed, her voice heavy with sadness. "Others migrated to different domains. To help. To heal. Like me. As for the rest I don't know. Some converted, they say. Started worshipping other gods."

Converting angels…turning them to worship another god was a power move. A way to steal not only their devotion but also their connection to the domain, to the source of their power.

Michael knew how potent that connection could be because he had experienced it firsthand. When Ava's followers had prayed to him, back in Nimbosia, he'd received over 3,000 Worship Energy. A significant boost to his reserves. And those power-hungry gods… they were always looking for an edge. A way to increase their influence, their control. A group of… godless angels, like Ava's, ripe for conversion… they were prime targets. And Michael knew, without a doubt, that more than a few gods would be more than happy to… welcome them into the fold.

But Michael, sensing Fayeth's discomfort, decided not to press the issue. "Right, then," he said, clapping his hands together. "Let's take a break. Before we get this party started."

He strolled over to one of the golden maple trees and sat down on the ground, his back resting against the smooth trunk. Fayeth stared at him, surprised. He was a god, after all. And gods… gods didn't just… sit on the ground. They demanded thrones, altars, sacrifices. But Michael… he just sat there, as if he were one of them.

The worshippers, watching the scene from a distance, exchanged awed whispers. They'd never seen a god like this. Even Ava, kind and compassionate as she was, had always maintained a certain distance. She'd sat on a throne, or a raised platform, always above them.

But Michael… he was just… sitting there. On the goddamn ground like it was nothing. Yet even in his relaxed posture, leaning against a tree like some weary traveler, there was a certain… badass quality to him, an aura of power that commanded respect, that demanded attention.

"Who… who is that?" one of the children whispered, tugging on his mother's skirt. "Is he… one of the… scary men?"

"Is that a god?" one of the women whispered, her eyes wide.

"He's… sitting on the ground," another woman murmured, her voice laced with disbelief. "I've never seen a god… sit on the ground before."

"Who's the pretty lady?" one of the children asked, pointing towards Gaya. "Is she a goddess?"

"Shhh," his mother hissed, pulling him closer. "Don't point! It's disrespectful."

"He looks… scary, Mommy," another child whispered, clinging to his mother's skirt. "Is he… going to hurt us?"

Michael, his enhanced hearing picking up their hushed whispers, smiled.

"Hey, kids!" Michael called out, his voice surprisingly gentle. He could see the fear in their eyes, the lingering trauma of their encounters with Agra's worshippers.

Hearing him address the children directly, the adults, felt a shiver of unease. He was the God of Darkness, after all. Not exactly a… child-friendly title. Darkness, evil… those words were often associated with things that one did not want their child to meet or stumble upon like monsters under the bed. Things that… preyed on innocence.

But Michael's smile didn't falter. He held out his hand towards the children, beckoning them closer.

Seeing their hesitation, Fayeth smiled reassuringly.

"It's okay," she said, her voice gentle. "He's… not scary."

Gaya, overhearing her, couldn't help but chuckle.

"He's not scary… when he isn't actively killing things," she muttered under her breath, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

But the children, their curiosity outweighing their fear, began to approach Michael, their steps hesitant at first, then growing more confident as they saw the warmth in his eyes, the gentle curve of his smile.

"Are you… alright, little ones?" he asked, his voice soft, kind. "Have you… eaten? You look… hungry."

He'd always had a soft spot for children, perhaps because his own childhood and most of the life he has been through have been so difficult and painful. He gestured towards the space beside him.

"Come sit,"

The children, drawn to his… aura, the calming energy that radiated from him despite his fearsome title and appearance, settled down beside him on the soft grass.

He accessed his System store, pulling out a handful of candies, chocolate bars and brightly colored lollipops.

The children's eyes widened, their faces lighting up with a mixture of delight and wonder.

Watching the scene unfold, Gaya rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, give the kids candy, Michael," she said dryly. "While dressed in scary black armor and a skull mask. What could possibly be… suspicious about that?"

Fayeth chuckled, shaking her head. "You have a… unique sense of humor, my lady."

Gaya grinned, her gaze softening as she watched Michael interact with the children. He was good with them. Patient. Kind. It was a side of him she rarely saw, a glimpse of the man beneath the armor, the god of darkness, the… protector.

As she was watching how Michael interacted with the children, she found herself thinking about Cindy. "What is that little dweeb up to now," she wondered, a wistful smile touching her lips.

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Meanwhile, back in the Temple of Chaos, Qin Jiu was getting antsy.

"They haven't returned?" she asked, her voice sharp, her gaze fixed on the nervous cultist who stood before her, his head bowed, his hands trembling.

"No, my lady," the cultist stammered. "The hunting party… they haven't reported back."

"Summon Vorlag," she said, her voice taking on a harder edge.

A moment later, a figure swaggered into the chamber. Vorlag, the captain of Agra's elite hunting squad, was a walking embodiment of chaos. He was tall, thin as a rail, with a shock of greasy, unkempt black hair that stuck out in all directions. His face was a canvas of crude tattoos, depicting skulls, ghosts, and various other unpleasantries. His teeth, yellowed and crooked, were bared in a perpetual sneer, and he had a habit of… scratching his butt that spoke volumes about his lack of discipline. He was, in short, the perfect Agra worshipper.

He was also, as Qin Jiu had learned the hard way, a sadist. A cruel, unpredictable bastard who enjoyed inflicting pain… for the sake of it.

"You summoned me, my lady?" he asked, his voice a raspy growl, his eyes, bloodshot and unfocused, darting around the room.

"Your hunting party, Vorlag," Qin Jiu said with suppressed anger. "They haven't returned. Send another. Double the men. Equip them with… communication crystals. I have a… bad feeling about this."

"Relax, my lady, they're probably just… having a bit of fun. A little… extracurricular chaos. But don't you worry about that, I'll… discipline them. When they get back. Flay them alive. Just for fun." Vorlag let out a harsh laugh, a sound like nails on a chalkboard.

Qin Jiu knew he wasn't joking. She'd seen him do it before. Seen the way he'd… enjoyed it. The screams of the Ava worshippers he'd captured still echoed in her nightmares.

"This isn't a game, Vorlag," she said, her voice hardening. "Take this seriously. Karma… is a boomerang. And we've accumulated quite a lot of it,"