Kryptonians: Man of Steel

Chapter 1520 An Inescapable Fate

The mother covered her mouth tightly, tears streaming silently down her face. Her body trembled violently from extreme fear, and she could barely breathe.

Their eyes were filled with unbelievable terror and utter despair, as if they were trapped in a nightmare from which they could not wake up.

Hachiman's pupils suddenly contracted to dangerous pinpoints!
His swooping gaze caught an even more deadly scene: a parasite seemed to sense something, and its scythe-shaped head suddenly turned—towards the doorway to Komachi's room, next to his parents' bedroom!

Komachi seemed to be startled by the loud noise, and with a look of fear and confusion, she pushed open the door and looked outside!
No thinking! Only action!

"Roar!"

The parasite that turned towards Komachi let out an excited screech, raising its scythe-like bone blade high as if to pounce!
"Get away!!!"

Hachiman's roar nearly shattered his vocal cords! With only three or four steps left on the stairs, he strained his leg muscles to their limit, like a spring compressed to its maximum, and stomped down with all his might!

Like a cannonball, he leaped down the stair railing! His target was the parasitic beast threatening Komachi!
The speed of his descent, combined with his explosive power, allowed him to instantly span the width of the living room!
In mid-air, he precisely extended his arm, not to attack the bone blade, but to clamp down on the relatively vulnerable "neck" tissue of the parasitic beast that was connected to the bone blade, like an iron clamp!
The tentacles were smooth and cold, with inhuman elasticity, but Hachiman's current strength was enough to crush rocks!

"Get out of here!!!"

With a beast-like roar, Hachiman used the momentum of his fall and the twisting force of his body to hurl the parasite, which was much larger and heavier than him, like throwing a tattered sack, and slammed it into the pile of rubble in the center of the living room!

With a muffled thud, the monster's twisted body crashed onto the shattered sofa and coffee table, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris.

Hachiman's body landed heavily on the ground at the same time, his knees slightly bent to absorb the force, and the wooden floor beneath his feet groaned under the weight, even slightly denting.

He landed with perfect precision—right in front of Komachi Hikigaya, who had just stepped out of the room and was frozen in shock!

His back was like a sighing wall that rose instantly, separating hell from heaven.

He slowly straightened up, his back to his family, facing the two monsters struggling to rise from the ruins.

His heavy breathing was like a bellows, each inhale carrying the smell of blood and dust, each exhale spewing out scalding fury.

He slowly raised his right hand, his mind focused with unprecedented concentration—

"Om-"

A faint, metallic hum reverberated through the air.

The long sword appeared out of thin air in his tightly clenched right hand!
The sword reflected the faint light of the emergency lamp, its blade gleaming with a cold, unnatural radiance.

He didn't adopt any fancy starting stance; he simply lowered the tip of his sword slightly, pointing it diagonally at the scrambled ground in front of him. This posture was more chilling than any aggressive gesture aimed at an enemy.

This is not a posture of attack, but a declaration of boundaries. The crack in the floor pointed at by the sword tip is an invisible line of death.

Anyone who crosses this line and steps into this small area behind him—whatever it may be—will only face death!
"Brother...brother...!"

Komachi's voice, trembling with sobs and filled with extreme suppressed emotion, came from behind.

Her small body trembled like the last leaf in the autumn wind, her icy fingers gripping the fabric of Hachiman's clothes, which was already soaked with cold sweat and rain, her knuckles turning white from the force.

Hot tears streamed down his face like beads from a broken string, soaking Hachiman's clothes.

Her fear didn't come entirely from the terrifying monsters, but more from the aura emanating from the familiar yet unfamiliar back standing in front of her—a resolute force that seemed to burn away her own soul, a mixture of boundless violence and an absolute will to protect, a resolute force that made her heart ache and suffocate!
She had never seen her brother look like this before, as if he were a demon crawling out of a pool of blood from hell.

The Hikigaya couple, sitting behind the dining table, were completely stunned by the figure who had fought fiercely at the top of the stairs (though there was no blood, his aura was as fierce as blood).

They stared at their eldest son's broad yet taut back, at the long sword that appeared out of thin air in his hand, and at the inhuman, chilling killing intent and violent power emanating from him, and were so shocked that they were completely speechless.

Is this their son who always says "youth is a lie" and has a lifeless look in his eyes? This power... this darkness... this heaviness that seems to carry the weight of the entire world... What exactly did their son go through without their knowledge?
What kind of unimaginable abyss, filled with bloodshed and monsters, had they stepped into? A mixture of relief at surviving a catastrophe, fear of the unknown forces, and bewilderment at the profound pain of their son instantly gripped their hearts.

On a higher level, Luther's invisible "gaze" is like that of a demanding theater critic sitting in a luxurious box, savoring the finest drama. With absolute satisfaction and a touch of cold pleasure, he is appreciating the climax on stage, a scene he meticulously planned and precisely ignited, entitled "Hachiman Hikigaya's Complete Awakening."

The burning ice flames in Hachiman Hikigaya's eyes—fear consumed by rage, reason ignited by the obsession to protect; that attitude of disregarding everything to protect his sister, bursting forth with power beyond the limits; that primal and urgent "need" for "power" itself burning fiercely in despair... all of this is the "perfect chemical reaction" that Luther most hoped to see.

He needs more than just a henchman; he needs a “contractor” who is driven to the brink, willingly embraces power, and is willing to give everything for it.

The timing was perfect.

Luther's thoughts, like an invisible, intangible, cold, and slippery venomous snake, quietly coiled around the cracks in Hachiman's mind that had opened due to intense tension, extreme anger, and his will to protect.

This thought was devoid of any emotional fluctuation; it was precise, efficient, and possessed an almost unquestionable, icy quality, like a system prompt.

These were not direct words, but a series of cold data streams and conclusions, like a system self-check report, forcibly injected into Hachiman's chaotic core of consciousness.

It points precisely to the most naked reality—without power, you can't even protect a door or a window!

You can't even save the lives of your closest relatives! This "job," this power—can you still refuse it? Do you even have the right to refuse?

Luther's "hint" precisely threw a cold weight called "cruel reality" into the furnace of Hachiman's heart, which was burning with rage and protection.

(End of this chapter)