My SSS-Rank Clone Talent: I Level Up Endlessly!
Chapter 158: Mutant Telekinetic Humans?

They were still deep within the mines, and everyone present was scared out of their wits.

"A prisoner… has defeated the warden."

"How could this monster defeat a Level Nine Telekinetic human so easily?"

"This is bad… really bad."

The prisoners murmured in shock, their eyes wide as they stared at the long, golden-haired youth standing before them.

The guards had already begun turning to flee, scrambling away in panic.

"Contact the Grand Warden and the others—now!"

They split in different directions.

"If we scatter, even if those monsters catch some of us, they won't catch all of us!"

But contrary to their expectations, Zarek didn't chase.

He simply stood still, his cold eyes fixed on the fleeing guards, void of emotion, sharp as blades.

Instead, he shrugged with nonchalant indifference and turned his gaze toward the prisoners standing before him.

His cold, boundless blue eyes swept across the crowd.

Wherever his gaze landed, a chill ran down spines. None could explain the dread they felt, only that their bodies trembled under his sheer gaze.

"What? Afraid already?" he scoffed, his voice as cold as ice.

"Kneel."

"Yes!"

One by one, the prisoners dropped to their knees, collapsing under the overwhelming fear that radiated from Zarek like an oppressive storm.

There were certainly a few unruly ones, prisoners who still clung to the idea of resisting Zarek's overwhelming presence. But under the weight of his cold, boundless blue eyes and the unmistakable, unmatched power he had just displayed, instinct took over.

The instinct to survive.

One by one, even the defiant fell to their knees.

In the end, every prisoner in the mine knelt—like subjects before a newly crowned emperor.

Zarek stood motionless, his expression unreadable. His icy gaze swept over them all one final time.

Then his eyes shifted toward the shirtless man.

"Since you spared me once," he said calmly, "I will spare you once. But if we meet again on the battlefield… it will be your end."

With that, Zarek turned his gaze back to the sea of kneeling prisoners.

He could see through the true nature of these people with ease, discerning them for what they really were.

Still, a faint sense of regret lingered in Zarek's heart. Although he had established his mana core, he had yet to form his first circle. He was but a mere Mage Acolyte.

"Oh well… at least I can use any spell freely," he thought, "but that's not exactly practical in combat."

He extended his hand, his mind swirling with intent. Slowly, deliberately, he formed the image of fire in his thoughts. It took several minutes before a small flame finally flickered to life in his palm.

"Without pre-established spells," he sighed inwardly, "magic is practically useless in battle."

Regardless, he shifted his focus back to the prisoners.

They were visibly confused as they watched the small fireball flicker in Zarek's hand.

"Is he… a Pyromancer?"

"A person who can conjure fire…"

"That has to be it… A mutant among the Telekinetic Users."

Their whispers were hushed, but not a single word escaped Zarek's ears.

His brow twitched. So did his ears.

"Mutant Telekinetic User?" he muttered coldly.

He raised his pupils and without a single step forward, one of the kneeling prisoners suddenly floated upward, suspended by nothing.

His gaze sharpened, eyes glowing faintly as his telekinesis took hold.

"Tell me," he said in a low, menacing voice, "what do you mean by that?"

"Eh?" The prisoner froze, stunned.

Zarek shifted his pupils slightly, and the man drifted forward—drawn in by invisible force, until he hovered right in front of him.

"Tell me everything you know about Mutant Telekinetic Users," Zarek commanded coldly.

He had never heard of such a term, not even through the vast knowledge inherited from Drayken.

That could only mean one thing: this was a secret unknown even to the Dragon Cult among humans. But somehow, mere prisoners spoke of it so casually.

That didn't sit right with him.

His sharp gaze landed on the man who had first spoken the words, a prisoner with white hair and a scruffy, patchy beard. There was nothing remarkable about him.

In fact, he looked entirely average, hardly the kind of person to be holding secrets beyond the reach of dragonkin intelligence.

As the prisoner was lifted into the air, his limbs flailed helplessly. Panic flashed in his eyes, and it took several seconds for his mind to fully process what was happening.

"Tell me everything about the Mutant Telekinetic Users," Zarek said coldly, his gaze narrowing, eyes focusing on the man's neck.

In an instant, the prisoner felt an invisible force tighten around his throat. A crushing pressure gripped him, making it hard for him to even breathe. His mouth hung open as saliva dripped down his chin, his body trembling from the suffocating weight.

"I-I'll talk… I'll tell you everything…" he gasped out with great effort.

The pressure vanished immediately, and he dropped to the ground, now kneeling before Zarek, his chest heaving.

"Speak," Zarek ordered.

"Yes, yes! I overheard it when one of the guards had guests over," the prisoner said quickly, not daring to hesitate.

"You overheard it?" Zarek raised a brow, his expression unreadable. A secret like that, revealed so easily? It didn't sit right with him.

"Yeah, I still remember that day," the prisoner continued, nodding furiously. "A little brat with green hair came by, must've been one of the higher-ups' kids. He looked at us like we were animals in a cage, snickering and giggling like it was all a game. He pointed at us and ran his mouth like a damn chatterbox."

Zarek said nothing, only stared, listening.

"He said they were researching something called bloodline evolution. Said they were messing with human genetics which causes the Telekinesis to mutate into something like your ability." the prisoner hurriedly spoke.

"I see," Zarek nodded slowly. The information was invaluable to Drayken. Now, the Dragons could prepare accordingly.

For the time being, maintaining the delicate balance between Dragons and Humans was the most profitable path.

If either side gained too much power too quickly, the scales would tip.

Though it seemed as if the Dragons were currently dominating, Zarek knew the truth.

The world was vast, and the human population dwarfed that of the Dragons. If even half of humanity's true strength were united, it could mark the extinction of the dragon race.

He would have to tread carefully, growing Drayken's influence from the shadows while he causes trouble on the human side.

Zarek's gaze swept over the prisoners once more. A faint smile curled the corner of his lips.

'They're perfect for causing chaos.'

At that moment, every prisoner felt a chill crawl down their spine. Zarek's gaze, cold, swept over them like a blade, merciless and absolute.

No one dared to meet his eyes. They trembled.

"You're going to obey my orders, right?" Zarek's voice was calm.

"Y-Yeah…" the prisoners replied in shaky unison, uncertainty thick in their voices.

Zarek narrowed his eyes:

"I can't hear you."

"YES!" they shouted, louder this time driven by fear, desperation, and the instinct to survive.

***

The guards fled through the winding passageways, glancing back anxiously to see if the monster was in pursuit. When they saw Zarek hadn't followed, they let out a collective sigh of relief.

They pressed onward until they reached a control room, a space filled with countless monitors, each displaying scenes from across the mines. One screen showed exactly what Zarek was doing.

"Head-warden."

Immediately, all of them bowed deeply to a woman seated on a throne. Her long green hair fluttered softly, and her eyes never left the screen.

She said nothing at first, her gaze fixed on the golden-haired man through the screen:

"This man, What exactly is he?"

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