Kryptonians: Man of Steel

Chapter 1526: Extremely Grateful
With each breath, the acrid, bloody air he inhaled reminded him of reality—a reality of bloodshed and death as a constant companion.

The recovery and enhancement brought by the upgrade are real.

But how many kills will it take to fill that long experience bar before the next level up?

Every time you face an increasingly powerful monster, every time you fight on the edge of life and death... who can guarantee that the cold warning sound will be heard in time when your throat is ripped open and your heart is pierced next time?
Who can guarantee that a "revive" option will appear on the screen after death?

"Brave"?
What an ironic and heavy title.

It doesn't signify glory, but merely that of a slave with extraordinary regenerative abilities, thrown into the arena. Each upgrade only temporarily prolongs the execution. The scythe of death always hangs overhead, coldly awaiting its next strike.

"Xiaoqi?"

His mother's voice rang out again, piercing through the chaotic and bloody thoughts in Hachiman's mind.

The voice trembled, carrying an almost desperate fear, sharper than before, like a fine needle piercing his numb nerves.

She was clearly terrified by the almost empty blankness on her son's face and the long, unsettling silence. It wasn't the expression of someone who had survived a catastrophe; it was more like an empty shell from which the soul had been ripped away.

The father raised his hand again, this time with a desperate determination, as if he wanted to grab his son's shoulder and shake him awake from some terrible nightmare.

However, just as that hand was about to touch the fabric on his shoulder, Hachiman's body reacted before his mind could. He abruptly took a step back, the movement so swift that it created a faint yet remarkably clear whistling sound.

This speed far exceeded that of ordinary people, even beyond his own expectations. He himself was slightly stiffened by this sudden, inhuman reaction speed, his muscles tensing instantly.

He saw the shock and... clear hurt that instantly magnified in his parents' eyes.

Those eyes were like two blunt knives, slowly cutting into his heart. Their son was not only terrifyingly silent, but had even begun to avoid their touch.

"...It's really nothing."

He forced himself to speak again, his voice as calm, hard, and undisturbed as a frozen lake, lacking even the slightest breath of relief, exhaustion, or any human emotion.

The voice even made him feel unfamiliar and uneasy. It was as if he were listening to another cold being using his vocal cords to speak.

He lowered his eyelids, avoiding the worried gazes of his parents that seemed to pierce his soul, and focused his eyes on the blood-stained sword in his hand.

"I'm just... a little tired."

If, before tonight, he had been instinctively resisting this sudden, blood-stained power, because he only wanted to return to being the ordinary, perhaps somewhat decadent but at least "normal" Hachiman Hikigaya.

At this moment, this resistance, like fragile thin ice, shattered and melted completely in the face of cruel reality.

If it weren't for it... if it weren't for this power...

The thought gripped him with a chilling sense of death. He had no doubt that at this moment, he should already be a cold, unclaimed corpse, gnawed and unrecognizable, in that filthy back alley, rotting along with the sewage and garbage, eventually becoming a blurry "accidental death" notice in the corner of the news.

The experience in the alley is the root of fear and the starting point of resistance.

The deep-seated despair and helplessness gnawed at him day and night, like a maggot clinging to his bones.

However, the peak of fear did not descend upon him.

When he heard his younger sister, Komachi Hikigaya, scream in a short, terrified voice, and his parents' angry shouts filled with suppressed fear!

At that moment, time seemed to freeze.

My mind went blank. All philosophical contemplation about whether power is evil or should exist was instantly crushed by a more primal, more violent emotion—protect! They must be protected! At all costs!
He looked at the two lifeless, monstrous remains on the ground, which had quickly lost their vitality and become like cheap rubber toys, and then at his family members who were still in shock but unharmed. An unprecedented, almost exhausting frenzy swept over him.

It could be said that he had never felt so...grateful.

Yes, it's gratitude!

A gratitude he had never experienced before, so profound yet so intense!

What is he grateful for?
Grateful for that alley that almost cost him his life and gave him all this trouble?
Grateful for that chilling prompt, like a demonic whisper, that was forcibly injected into his body as he lay dying?

Grateful for this inhuman power, stained with his and the monster's filthy bodily fluids, bringing endless unknown trouble?

Yes! I am incredibly grateful! This gratitude surged like molten lava, instantly overwhelming all the previous fear, resistance, confusion, and deep despair!
Because this power was no longer the sword of Damocles hanging over his head, ready to fall at any moment. It had become a real, heavy, and cold shield and spear in his hands!

It was this that allowed his father to look at him with those astonished, worried, and even slightly fearful eyes;
It was this that allowed my mother to shed tears of worry;
It was this that allowed Komachi to still cry out in fright, instead of being silenced forever;
It is this that allows this "home," which was just broken into by a monster, to be on the verge of collapse, and filled with the pungent smell of blood and the aura of death, to still exist at this moment!

He succeeded. With his cursed power, he successfully slew the two parasitic beasts, which were even more ferocious and powerful than the one in the alley, protecting everything he had sworn to protect with his life!
If it were just him... if this power were only related to his personal life and death, he might still hesitate and resist.

Facing death alone, whether he resists it or accepts it numbly, is his personal choice; he is walking on the edge of hell on his own.

He could escape, he could exile himself, or he could even cowardly close his eyes and let the invisible scythe fall, ending this absurdity.

But when that power becomes the only shield protecting the family behind him, everything changes!

Resisting the force is equivalent to pushing away the shield that could block the monster's claws and protect parents and Komachi!
Giving up your power is tantamount to pushing your defenseless family members into the gaping maw of that monstrous monster!
This realization was colder than the blade that pierced his body in the alley, sharper than the monster's roar. With immense force, it pierced the deepest part of his soul, shattering his almost pretentious struggles about the nature of power!

Power itself is neither good nor evil; it is merely a tool, a weapon. A knife can be used to slaughter the innocent, or it can be used to protect one's home.

(End of this chapter)