Kill to evolve: A system that demands blood
Chapter 36: No mercy

Chapter 36: No mercy

Chapter 36

Harlan moved like a phantom, warping space with every step.

One moment he was above Ronan, descending with a boot aimed at his skull. The next, the space shifted, and his kick came from the left. Ronan barely ducked, the edge of the boot grazing his shoulder.

He didn’t have time to reset.

Harlan pressed the advantage, fists coming in rapid succession, each one backed by brutal strength and augmented angles from his warped positioning. Ronan deflected three, caught the fourth, but the fifth slammed into his ribs and something cracked.

Fractured rib detected. Minor internal bleeding. Regeneration activated, might take a while.

Ronan bit down hard and didn’t react. Pain was just noise now. He let his instincts drive him, Combat Intuition synced with every ounce of reflex, muscle, and perception he had.

Harlan smirked. "You’re bleeding."

Ronan didn’t answer. Instead—

Telekinesis: Activated.

The loose metal pipes scattered across the construction site lifted behind Harlan and hurled toward him.

Harlan spun, displacing himself a few feet forward and ran directly into Ronan’s knee.

Crunch.

His nose broke on impact. He staggered back with a grunt, blood streaming down his face.

"You little—"

Ronan didn’t let him finish.

He pressed forward, fists flying in a flurry of blows. He wasn’t as flashy as Harlan. He didn’t need to be. Every punch had intent. Each strike was placed with surgical precision.

Jaw. Rib. Neck. Gut.

But Harlan was still S-rank for a reason.

He vanished again, only this time, reappearing directly above Ronan, fists clasped together, bringing them down like a hammer.

BOOM.

The ground cracked.

Ronan blocked with both arms but dropped to one knee from the force.

Then Harlan grabbed him by the throat.

"You’re fast, but I’ve killed faster," he hissed, squeezing.

Ronan’s vision narrowed.

Then—

Gravity Suppression: MAX output.

Harlan screamed.

His bones creaked audibly under the force. Blood sprayed from his nose and ears as the weight of a mountain crashed down on him. He dropped Ronan instantly, stumbling back.

Ronan stood, breath ragged, blood smeared across his face and jaw clenched like iron.

"You talk too much," he growled.

Telekinetic Slam.

Harlan lifted off the ground, then was slammed down with a force that shattered the concrete beneath him. He coughed violently, trying to activate his ability again—

But he wasn’t quick enough, and Ronan was already on top of him.

Fist. Fist. Fist.

Over and over.

Brutal. Relentless. Bones cracked, blood flew. No hesitation now. Ronan’s eyes were cold, detached. His fists were coated in red, and Harlan’s face was barely recognizable.

System: Victory Confirmed. Target neutralized.

Extract Ability: Spatial Displacement?

A moment of silence.

Ronan sat on Harlan’s chest, panting, blood dripping from his chin as the system’s message hovered in his mind.

Then came the second line:

Execute Target to Extract Ability. Kill Required.

Ronan froze.

Harlan wasn’t dead. He was barely conscious, breathing shallow, blood filling his mouth, but alive.

Ronan stood up slowly, looking down at the man.

He wasn’t a good person. The files said it all. Harlan had killed people, ran illegal trials, vanished hundreds. He deserved this.

But if Ronan left a body behind like this—beaten to death in the middle of the street—the authorities would find it. There’d be a forensic mess, investigation, maybe even surveillance nearby.

And if they linked it to him? The government would find out about him, and that was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t afford to become someone watched and used by the government, the only reason he had agreed to join Nathaniel’s faction was because he wasn’t working directly under the government.

Now that they all knew about the nature of his system, he knew they definitely wouldn’t let him go that easily, but at least...myle had assured him that the government wouldn’t find out about him.

"System," he said aloud. "What if I turn him in, like just dump in at the police station? He’s already neutralized. The government wants him. Let them take him."

System Alert: Negotiation Rejected.

Non-Compliance Detected. Initiating Life Force erosion in 3...

"Wait—" shit, not that again. Fuck this stubborn system.

2...

"Goddamn it! I said wait."

1.

Ronan felt a tug inside his chest. Cold. Deep. Like something ancient reached into him and started pulling.

He stumbled, vision flashing for a second. His knees buckled slightly.

Then the system stopped.

Compliance Timer Reset.

You have 60 seconds to complete the execution.

Ronan cursed under his breath.

He looked down again. His hand hovered over Harlan’s chest, ready to finish it. One more strike. One.

Then...

Harlan’s bloody hand weakly reached up and grabbed Ronan’s wrist.

"W-Wait," he rasped.

Ronan hesitated.

"I’ll... turn myself in," Harlan croaked. "I swear. Just... don’t kill me. I’ll talk. I’ll confess. You don’t have to do this."

Ronan’s jaw clenched.

"You don’t get to make deals now."

"I’m not trying to escape," Harlan coughed. "Just... let the law handle me. I’ve done bad things, yeah. But if I die now, that’s it. Nothing gets fixed. I’ll never pay for my crime. Let me face it the right way, let the law punish me."

System Timer: 00:37... 00:36...

Ronan looked away, heart hammering.

Fuck, this was crazy. How the hell did he end up in such situation.

Just crush his throat. Let the ability transfer. Move on. He told himself.

"System," he said again, voice strained. "He surrendered. He’s turning himself in. That has to count for something."

System Alert: Irrelevant.

Target must be executed. No exceptions.

00:18...

Ronan’s eyes darkened. So this was it....

No way out.

No mercy.

He leaned in, eyes locking with Harlan’s.

"You should’ve stayed underground."

Harlan’s expression cracked. "No... please—"

CRACK.

A single, clean strike straight to his throat.

Silence.

Then:

Target Eliminated. Ability Extracted: Spatial Displacement.

Syncing...

Ronan stood, breathing heavily.

His hands shook slightly—not from exhaustion. From what he just became.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move for a long time.

Then he turned, disappearing into the shadows before the city could wake.