Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious-Chapter 205 - 70

"Hahaha!"

Mister’s laughter was a wet, rattling sound that seemed to bubble up from the very depths of his throat.

He reached down, his meaty, grease-slicked fingers wrapping around Seijirou’s wrist. "Ah, how wonderful. Such firm meat, I wonder how this would taste. Is it as good as an infant?"

Seijirou felt his whole body shiver in disgust, his arm was still buried elbow-deep into Mister’s chest, a strike that should have pulverized the heart of any living creature.

Yet, aside from the blood he coughed up, there was no spray of arterial blood—only the slow, rhythmic oozing of a black, tar-like substance.

"Honestly, this is the first time I have been injured like this," Mister wheezed, his eyes bulging with a manic, ecstatic light. "Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought. It’s almost... refreshing! Truly a sting from a ’hero’ trying to save a world that’s already rotting!"

"Yeah? That just proves how you cannot be called a human anymore," Seijirou said, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying register.

He didn’t pull back. Instead, his Ki began to shift, the flickering blue aura intensified, swirling and condensing until it changed color entirely, turning into a brilliant, blinding shade of silver-gold.

The temperature on the rooftop plummeted as the divine pressure of his Origin: The Seeker, began to manifest.

"Of course not! I’m a god! Why would I want to be a lowly human!?" Mister laughed.

Then, with a surge of unnatural strength, he pulled Seijirou’s hand out of his chest.

Instantly, the massive cavity in his torso began to heal, with the black ichor from his own body simply knitting itself back together instantly, leaving the skin as smooth and pale as a bloated corpse.

Seijirou frowned and immediately broke Mister’s wrist that was holding his hand and retreated a few steps back.

Mister frowned and stared at his broken wrist before placing it back with a loud crack, "... That’s better."

He turned his gaze back to Seijirou, "Hey, Kageyama. Do you know the feeling called despaired?"

Then, the true horror began as the massive, floating entity behind Mister suddenly collapsed in on itself.

It turned into a torrent of oily black liquid that lunged forward, seeping into Mister’s eyes, ears, and the very pores of his skin.

"AAAAHHHHH!" Mister let out a piercing, soul-scraping screech of agony.

His body began to convulse violently, his fat jiggling and rippling as if something was trying to claw its way out from under his skin.

The black liquid began to seep back out of his pores, covering him in a shimmering, obsidian film.

Countless lidless eyes began to pop open across his shoulders, his chest, and his forehead, blinking simultaneously in a discordant rhythm.

Mouths appeared in his palms and along his neck, whispering a thousand different obscenities at once.

At this moment, he now looked nothing like a human, but that of a mountain of Void-flesh, a singular, pulsating nightmare.

Seijirou clicked his tongue, his silver-gold aura flaring as he lunged forward, delivering a punch backed by the full weight of his ki.

THUD.

His fist connected with Mister’s gut, but there was no impact. It felt like he was hitting a massive, dense bale of cotton as the force was absorbed entirely, doing no damage at all.

"Was that supposed to hurt?" Asked Mister, its countless mouths grinning in mockery.

"Heh." Seijirou jumped back to gain distance, his eyes narrowed as he analyzed the shifting mass before him.

Suddenly, Mister’s arms elongated with a sickening sound of stretching bone.

Before Seijirou could land, the black-slicked hands grabbed his legs mid-air as ister raised him high above his head, his many mouths laughing in unison, and slammed Seijirou down onto the rooftop with the force of a falling meteor.

CRACK.

The reinforced concrete of the rooftop shattered, a spiderweb of deep fissures radiating out from the impact point.

Dust and debris clouded the air, but due to the absolute strengthening of his Ki, Seijirou remained unharmed, though the shock traveled through his teeth.

"Hahaha!" Mister laughed, his new monstrous form jiggling with every heave of his chest. "This power is amazing! It’s absolute! Hey, Kageyama, do you hear them? The ones I’ve already eaten?"

Mister leaned forward, several of the mouths on his torso opening wide. "Listen! This one was a young mother who thought her prayers would save her! ’Please, let me see my son!’ she said! She tasted of salt and desperation! And this one? A ’pure’ shrine maiden! She screamed for her gods until I tore her tongue out, eating it in front of her! They’re all in here, Kageyama! They’re a part of me now! Don’t worry, once this is over, I will definitely savor you. I bet high-quality meat like yours would taste better than a thousand virgins!"

"Fuck..." Seijirou cursed under his breath.

He felt the cold edge of Mister’s malice. This man truly deserves to die, no, he deserves to suffer for eternity!

Then, Mister didn’t wait for him to regain his footing as he raised his arm again, intended to slam Seijirou back into the concrete.

But this time, Seijirou reacted, and he focused his Ki into his fingertips, making them as sharp as high-frequency blades.

With a guttural roar, he tore through the oily flesh of the arms holding him.

Mister let out a roar of pain as the limbs were severed, and Seijirou flipped in the air, landing gracefully and silently back on the ground.

"That hurts! You little bastard!" Mister screamed.

He didn’t wait for the limbs to regrow as he manifested several sharp, drill-like tentacles from his back, which whipped forward with the speed of sound, striking at Seijirou from multiple angles.

Seijirou dodged, his movements becoming a blur of silver-gold light while he remained completely, unnervingly calm.

This was the true power of his Origin, The Seeker.

It wasn’t just about strength; it was about the path to victory.

It allowed him to calculate every variable, to see the most optimal choices in a fraction of a second.

And as he pushed the Seeker to its absolute limit, the world seemed to slow down, and the trajectories of the drills became clear, highlighted by a faint, ghostly trail.

In fact, if he went past his limits, it is completely possible for him to even see a few seconds into the future!

He observed Mister, watching the way his fat shifted before an attack, the way the eyes blinked in sequence before a strike.

There!

Seijirou manifested two Ki blades in his hands, the silver-gold energy humming with a lethal frequency.

He dashed forward, weaving through the barrage of drills as if he were dancing through rain.

Within seconds, he arrived in the monster’s personal space and without hesitation, he slashed down with both swords, aiming to bisect the gargantuan torso.

But Mister was no longer just a slow, fat man. He reacted with a beast-like instinct, creating several blade-like tentacles that rose up to block the strike.

CLANG.

The sound was like metal hitting against another metal.

Seijirou didn’t hesitate as he pressed the assault, his mastery over Kali-Escrima finally coming to the forefront.

While the art was traditionally known for its use of sticks, this art was actually created to be paired with bladed weapons, and is designed for the ruthless, high-speed termination of a target.

His hands became a blur, his Ki blades moving in complex, interlocking patterns as he cut down Mister’s tentacles, the black flesh falling to the rooftop in heaps.

Mister roared, producing more and more limbs, but Seijirou was faster, his footwork keeping him perfectly positioned to stay out of the reach of the central mouths.

Just then, Mister let out a high-pitched, mocking laugh.

Seijirou’s eyes widened as his Origin flared, a cold spike of warning shooting through his brain.

Danger!

Suddenly, the piles of severed tentacles on the floor, the ones he had cut down, began to twitch and bubble.

Then, within a heartbeat, each severed limb grew a head, a torso, and a pair of legs until they grew into smaller, identical copies of the Mister.

"What!?" Seijirou’s eyes widened.

Nearly a hundred "Mini-Misters" now surrounded him in a tight, suffocating circle, with every single one of them manifested blade-like tentacles, their countless eyes all fixed on the boy in the center.

"Hahaha! Do you see, Kageyama!? I am legion! Every piece of me is a hunger that cannot be satisfied!"

Then, they all attacked at once.

A thousand blades of black oil converged on Seijirou from every single direction.

But Seijirou reacted, pushing The Seeker to its absolute, agonizing limit, his brain felt like it was on fire as he processed a hundred futures at once.

He moved, his Ki blades parrying, his body twisting, his feet jumping, he moved like he was a whirlwind of silver and gold.

But it was futile.

Even with the ability to see seconds into the future, his physical body had reached its limit of speed.

At the end of the day, he was one man against a tidal wave of flesh.

Finally, a black blade pierced his stomach from behind.

Another slammed through his shoulder, pinning him in place.

A third tore through his thigh, forcing him to his knees.

"Cough!" Seijirou spat a spray of blood onto the concrete, his silver-gold aura flickering like a dying candle.

Mister, the original, towered over him, his face twisted into a look of pure, gluttonous joy. "Hahaha! This is great! High-quality meat, finally prepared for the tasting! There is no need to cook you, Kageyama. I think I’ll eat you fresh... I want to savor the taste of your flesh as it screams in my gut!"

Mister leaned down, his massive maw opening wide, the rows of obsidian teeth glistening in the moonlight. "Welcome to the Inner Circle, boy. You’re the main course!"