Chapter 233: The Unchained's Thank-You Gift
Jeff Maxon may have planned the terrorist strike for his personal revenge
against Oliva, but he wasn't the true "Leader" of the operations moving through
the building.
Both IDEAL and The Worm were merely using his distraction to achieve their own
objective: Hina Hongo and the chemical weapons in her possession.
As global crime syndicates, they were cold-blooded professionals. Jeff's death
didn't cause them to scatter; it merely signaled that they were running out of
time. They redoubled their efforts, systematically sweeping every room.
This was an admirable quality in terms of operational efficiency. It was also a
catastrophic stroke of bad luck, because it meant they were about to collide
head-on with the man descending from the eighteenth floor.
Biscuit Oliva.
Oliva passed through the seventeenth floor and reached the sixteenth, where he
ran into several combined squads of hitmen and mercenaries—about twenty men in
total.
Seeing Oliva, the criminals realized Jeff was likely dead. Their mission window
was closing.
"Hold him back!" the squad leader barked. "There are only a few rooms left. The
'Unchained' is just one man—he can't be everywhere at once!"
Hearing the command, Oliva let out a soft, amused chuckle. "As I thought... you
boys have no idea that there's more than one 'Monster' in this building today."
Seeing the leader's confused blink, Oliva offered a helpless shrug. "Honestly,
you're better off being bullied by me than making him angry. You'll thank me for
this later."
He strolled forward, walking straight into the middle of the armed killers.
One mercenary lunged, driving a tactical knife toward Oliva's stomach. The blade
hit his tensed abs and stopped dead, as if it had struck a slab of industrial
rubber. The merc froze, his jaw hanging open.
"A toothpick like that can't pierce these muscles."
Oliva's massive hand reached out, clamping onto the man's head. With a casual
flick of his wrist, he pushed the man backward into the hallway wall. He didn't
stop. He kept pushing.
CRUNCH!
The man's skull was literally pressed into the reinforced drywall, leaving a
crater in the masonry. The mercenary's body slumped, twitching rhythmically.
The sight was more terrifying than a high-speed strike. The observers felt their
skin crawl as they witnessed the effortless, casual application of god-like
power.
This was the raw, unadulterated strength of the Unchained.
"Gentlemen, resisting arrest is such a tedious behavior. That was just a polite
warning." Oliva shook his head. "I won't be so gentle on the next one."
The criminals went on high alert, their hands trembling on their weapons. But
before they could act—
WHOOSH! ZIP!
Two figures exploded from the shadows on either side of Oliva. Two simultaneous
kicks flew through the air, launching the front-line hitmen down the corridor.
Ren Shiroki and Ohma Tokita had arrived.
They had finally caught up to Oliva and clearly had no intention of letting him
take all the "exp." They threw themselves into the crowd, a blur of fists and
feet.
Bang! Bang! Bang-bang-bang!
The criminals' formation was torn apart. They were systematically dismantled,
unable to even draw a bead on their targets.
Kazuo Yamashita, arriving a few seconds later, stared in bewilderment. "Are
they... are they competing?"
"They're unsatisfied," Fusui Kure explained, standing beside Kazuo.
Seeing the old manager's confusion, she added, "The targets are being cleared
out too fast. Neither of them likes having their meal stolen."
Oliva turned his head, grinning at Fusui and Kazuo. "Precisely."
He put his hands on his hips, watching the two youths work. "Back in Arizona, no
one is brave enough to show 'dissatisfaction' in front of me. I thought this
trip to Tokyo would only be for the 'Monster's' boy—Baki Hanma. I didn't expect
to find so many interesting toys."
"I really do have to thank Sonoda. He's a thoughtful host."
"But for now... I should give these two a proper thank-you gift. Using the one
thing they love most."
Oliva glided forward. With a lazy backhand, he sent a hitman spinning through
the air. The wind pressure from the strike made Ren and Ohma pause.
Ohma narrowed his eyes, staring at Oliva with his muscles coiled. He looked
hesitant, his body language suggesting a deep internal conflict.
"What's this? You look like you're overthinking things, little Ashura. Is
something bothering you lately?"
Oliva waved Ohma off and turned his focus to Ren Shiroki. This time, Oliva's
eyes sparkled with genuine interest.
Ren had stopped fighting. He turned toward Oliva, walking forward with a wide,
exhilarated grin.
"Nice..."
Ren stood before the giant. A few remaining hitmen stood nearby, blades drawn,
but they were too terrified to take a step toward either man.
"I really do owe you one, kid," Oliva said warmly. "Thanks to you taking Dorian
into custody, my workload for this week is much lighter."
Ren shrugged. "So? How do you plan to repay me?"
"Well..."
Oliva's expression turned pensive. He slowly raised his right palm, a
mischievous smile playing on his lips. "How about this? The only thing I'm truly
proud of is this collection of muscles."
"Nice. That's perfect!"
Ren's eyes glowed with anticipation. He nodded instantly. "Let me feel the—"
Before the sentence could finish, Oliva's palm shot forward. He didn't punch; he
pushed. The strike caught Ren flush on his crossed forearms.
[怪力無雙]—PEAK OUTPUT!
FWOOSH!
Ren's silhouette became a blur. He was launched like a human cannonball, sliding
ten meters through the air, knocking four hitmen out of his path as he flew. He
slammed back-first into the wall at the end of the corridor.
BOOM!!!
The impact shattered the plaster. Cracks spiderwebbed across the masonry, and
heavy chunks of stone rained down around him.
"Phew...!"
Ren exhaled a cloud of hot steam. A massive, reddening palm-print was visible on
his forearms. The torque of the strike had penetrated entirely through his body,
rattling his internal organs.
He groaned as he "peeled" himself out of the wall. The brickwork behind him gave
way, collapsing into a heap and revealing the interior of a guest room.
A single, casual push from Oliva had sent Ren flying fifteen meters and through
a structural wall!
Cough!
Ren coughed hard, spitting out a thin line of blood. He gasped for air, his eyes
watering from the shock, but he couldn't stop the manic laughter from erupting.
"Nice! That was incredible! DO IT AGAIN!!"
Oliva's "thank-you gift" was exactly what Ren needed. His previous
"dissatisfaction" was gone, replaced by a surge of pure, physical euphoria.
This is it! The '怪力' (Monstrous Strength) of the Freest Man on Earth! It wasn't
even a full-power strike, but god, it felt good!
I have to find a way to counter that... Ren thought.
But when he looked up, Oliva was already gone. He had plowed through the
remaining mercenaries and was heading for the fifteenth floor.
"I'll save the little Ashura's gift for later~"
"Goodbye, Ren-kun!"
"This is an official mission, after all. I have to finish it perfectly. I can't
let you kids steal the glory."
Oliva winked and gave a jaunty wave over his shoulder as he vanished down the
stairs.
Ren stood in the wreckage, his forearms turning a deep, bruised purple. It was
going to hurt for a week. He couldn't help but smirk. "What a cunning
bastard..."
Twelfth Floor, Presidential Suite.
Inside the room where the "Kidnapping" was being held, Sikorsky was beginning to
lose his cool. He could hear the structural impacts and the scent of blood
drifting through the vents.
"What kind of boring games are they playing out there?"
Sikorsky ground his teeth, his frustration reaching a boiling point. He glared
at the sofa by the window where Yujiro Hanma was sitting.
He began to calculate. He needed a way to blindside the Ogre.
But then, Sikorsky noticed a detail. The "Strongest Creature on Earth" was
leaning back, his head tilted slightly. His entire body was perfectly relaxed.
His eyes were closed. His breathing was slow, rhythmic, and deep.
No... no way.
Through all that noise and the explosions... Yujiro Hanma is... sleeping?!
Sikorsky craned his neck, confirming the visual. He couldn't believe it. He
turned to look at the hostages—Arisa, Kozue, Karura, Marco, and Hina Hongo.
"If I want to challenge the 'Strongest,' now is the perfect chance, isn't it?"
He was muttering to himself, trying to convince his own heart to overcome its
terror.
Hearing him, the hostages—all five of them—simultaneously shook their heads.
They looked at Sikorsky with expressions of pity, silently begging him to
abandon such a suicidal thought.
Sikorsky: "..."
They're looking down on me! They think I can't do it!
He made up his mind. He tightened his right fist, his middle knuckle protruding
in a reinforced grip—the perfect formation for his specialized finger-strength
strikes.
Now—!
Just as Sikorsky prepared to launch his sneak attack at the Ogre—BANG!
The double-doors of the presidential suite were kicked off their hinges.
Sikorsky's momentum was broken. A squad of armed hitmen swarmed into the room,
their weapons leveled. They saw a tall Russian man standing in the center of the
room, looking like he was about to explode with a very specific, petty kind of
rage.
"AGAIN?! ANOTHER INTERRUPTION?!"
Sikorsky bared his teeth, looking absolutely homicidal as he glared at the
intruders. "Where the hell did you losers crawl out from?!"
(End of Chapter)
☆☆☆
-> 30 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you