Common Sense Hijack System-Chapter 153: End

Karl’s stomach dropped the second Julia spoke again, her voice crisp and commanding.

"Bring the hostages."

Karl and Curtis barely had time to react before the heavy thud of footsteps filled the silence.

Then he saw him.

A massive man, dark-skinned, built like a walking mountain, stepped into the dimly lit lobby. His presence alone was suffocating. But Karl recognized him instantly.

No fucking way...

It was him.

The same man who had once terrorized Greg. The one who had broken him. The one no one spoke about, because even mentioning his name carried the weight of something vile.

And now, he stood there with a smug grin, effortlessly carrying two unconscious figures in his thick, corded arms.

Jane.

Layla.

Karl’s vision blurred for a second. His breath turned razor-sharp. His heart pounded in his ears.

The two women—his women—were limp, vulnerable, completely at the mercy of this monster.

Jane’s soft blonde hair spilled over the man’s thick forearm, her usually sharp, motherly expression nowhere to be found. Layla’s lithe form dangled like a rag doll, her dark hair falling over her closed eyes.

They weren’t just knocked out.

They had been taken.

Curtis inhaled sharply beside him. "Oh, fuck..."

Karl forced his fists to unclench. He needed to think. He needed to stay calm.

Julia tilted her head, watching him. She wasn’t just smiling anymore. She was measuring him. Calculating.

"You’re special, Karl," she said smoothly, her voice carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "I felt it the moment you resisted me. I know you’re different."

Her cold, knowing eyes flickered to Curtis.

"And you," she continued, "you should be like the rest of them. But somehow... you’re not."

Karl’s jaw clenched.

Julia’s smile widened. "You two hid from me. You pretended. Smart." She took a slow step forward. "But it doesn’t matter. Because now?"

Her eyes darkened.

"You belong to me."

The massive man shifted, adjusting Jane and Layla’s unconscious forms like they were nothing. His thick fingers twitched, as if itching to do something worse.

Karl’s mind raced.

He couldn’t fight. Not yet.

He couldn’t run. Not with them in danger.

Which meant—

He had to play the game.

For now.

Ethan—in Julia’s body—twirled once more, clearly reveling in his stolen flesh. The way he moved was wrong. Too smooth, too feminine, yet twisted by the sheer knowledge of who was truly inside.

Karl forced himself to breathe steadily. His hands itched to do something—anything—but right now, information was more valuable than action.

Ethan stopped, a wicked grin spreading across Julia’s perfect lips. "And the best part?" he purred, "I got everything she had."

Karl’s stomach clenched. "You mean..."

"Oh, yes," Ethan interrupted, waving his hand lazily. "Julia had a gift—an incredible one. The power to seep into people’s thoughts, to pull them toward her. She could have made the world kneel at her feet."

His eyes darkened. "But the stupid bitch refused to use it."

Curtis tensed beside Karl, his fingers twitching. "What do you mean?"

Ethan rolled his eyes, exasperated. "She had everything—absolute control, Karl. She could have owned every mind in this godforsaken city. She could have ruled. But no!*" His voice twisted into a mocking whine. "She wanted to be ’good.’ She wanted to ’help.’"

He sneered, looking utterly disgusted. "She had the power to make people love her, to bend them, to shape them. And what did she do?" He spat on the floor. "She used it to keep people from fighting. To ’calm’ them. To ’soothe’ them.*"

Karl clenched his jaw. "So you took her body."

"Of course I did!" Ethan spread his arms, his stolen features glowing with unhinged glee. "Why waste such perfection on someone too weak to use it properly? Now I can do what she never had the spine to do. And look—"

He gestured grandly toward the shattered doors of the apartment, where the distant screams of the city still echoed. "It’s working."

Karl’s stomach churned.

Ethan hadn’t just taken her body.

He had taken everything.

Her life. Her power. And now, the entire city was falling under his grasp.

Curtis exhaled sharply beside him, shaking his head. "This is so fucking wrong."

Ethan turned to him, smirking. "*Oh, Curtis, don’t look so horrified." His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. "You should be grateful you get to witness something so... *beautiful."

Karl felt a cold, steady rage settle in his chest.

Ethan wasn’t just a monster.

He was a king in the making.

And if Karl didn’t stop him...

There wouldn’t be anything left to save.

Karl’s breath turned sharp as the tension in the room thickened into something suffocating.

Jane and Layla were still awake. Their wide, terrified eyes darted between him and Curtis, their muffled protests barely escaping past the thick tape sealing their mouths. Their hands and feet were bound, keeping them helpless, forced to witness whatever twisted game Ethan—Julia—was playing.

The towering man—the beast who had carried them—moved with slow, deliberate steps. He set them down carefully, as if they were delicate objects rather than struggling, terrified women. Then, with a disturbing sense of purpose, he turned toward Curtis.

"No," Karl muttered, his fists tightening.

Curtis barely had time to react before a massive hand grabbed him, lifting him effortlessly. "What the fuck—" he choked out, struggling against the iron grip. It was useless.

The sound of fabric tearing cut through the silence.

Karl felt his stomach drop.

Jane let out a muffled scream, her entire body jerking in her restraints. Layla thrashed wildly, her panicked eyes darting between Curtis and Karl, silently begging him to do something.

But Karl couldn’t move.

He couldn’t react.

Because Ethan—Julia—was watching him.

She—he—stepped forward, her expression a twisted mix of amusement and delight. "Oh, Karl," she purred, "you’re still trying to play the hero?"

Curtis let out a strained grunt, his body twisting, muscles flexing as he fought—but the monster holding him was unmoved.

"Stop—this—shit—" Curtis growled, his voice tight with fury.

Ethan smirked, stepping closer, her stolen body moving with an eerie, unnatural grace. "Why should I?" She reached up, her fingers grazing Curtis’s jaw, forcing him to meet her gaze. "You don’t understand, do you?"

Curtis’s breathing was ragged, his body shaking.

"I have everything," Ethan whispered. "Julia’s power. Julia’s body. *Her control."

Karl’s mind reeled.

Ethan wasn’t just wearing Julia.

He was using her power.

The very thing that made her so loved, so trusted. The ability to make people follow her, to surrender to her influence—Ethan had twisted it into something horrifying.

"And you know what the worst part is?" Ethan leaned in, whispering mockingly. "She never even used it properly. All that power... wasted on kindness."

Curtis’s teeth clenched, his body going rigid as Ethan’s fingers trailed lower, teasing.

Karl couldn’t look away.

Layla and Jane couldn’t look away.

They were being forced to witness this nightmare.

Karl’s heart pounded.

If he moved now—if he tried to stop this—Jane and Layla would pay the price.

Ethan smirked, sensing his hesitation. "Oh Karl," she sighed, "*you’re just like her. Always holding back. Always *waiting.**"

Her eyes darkened. "But I don’t wait."

Karl forced his hands to remain at his sides. He forced himself to breathe.

He couldn’t stop this.

Not yet.

But he would.

And when he did—

Ethan would beg for mercy.

And Karl wouldn’t give it.

Karl’s body trembled, his fingers curling into fists so tight that his knuckles turned white. His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum, his mind screaming at him to move, to act—to end this nightmare.

Curtis was still struggling, his face contorted with rage and humiliation, while Jane and Layla thrashed against their bindings, muffled screams tearing through the thick tape over their mouths.

And Ethan—that sick, twisted bastard—was laughing, his stolen body reveling in its power, his stolen lips smirking with mockery.

"Oh, Karl," Ethan purred, "are you really just going to stand there and watch?"

No.

No more.

Karl exhaled, his entire body going still.

A sharp, cutting silence fell over the room as his lips parted—

And he spoke.

"Undead Platinum."

The moment the words left his mouth, the world itself seemed to freeze.

A pulse—dark, thick, suffocating—rippled through the air, sending an unnatural chill across the room.

The lights flickered. The walls groaned.

And then—

A shadow stirred.

It came from nowhere—from nothing—a swirling vortex of black mist, twisting and writhing like something hungry. The temperature plummeted, and the space behind Karl split open, like reality itself was ripping apart.

Then—

It stepped out.

A towering figure, draped in tattered robes of blackened bone and silver chains, its skeletal form covered in ghostly, shifting armor that shimmered like platinum. Its hollow, empty eyes gleamed with a cruel intelligence, and in its grip, it held a massive, jagged scythe—an executioner’s weapon, humming with unnatural power.

The Undead Platinum.

Karl’s personal machine of death.

Ethan’s smirk faltered.