<h4>Chapter 101: _ Fresh Kill</h4>


    [Warning: Graphic Scene Ahead. Not Too intense].


    I spread my arms wide. "What do you think?"


    He took another step back, eyes darting left and right, calcting. He was clearly looking for an escape.


    I grinned. "Go on. Run."


    His jaw clenched. He was weighing his options, deciding whether to fight or flee. But he made one mistake... he thought he had a choice.


    I moved before he could even blink.


    Inded a thudding punch on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. He spat blood onto the ground, anger overtaking him.


    "You think you can take me on?" he snarled, rolling his shoulders. "You think just because you’re suddenly healed, you’re stronger than me?"


    <i>Was that a challenge? Was this pussy man challenging the great and magnificent Daddy Luis?!</i>


    Iughed icily. "Oh, Ernesto. I don’t think. I know."


    With that, he pounced on me.


    Faster than I expected. Stronger than most. But not strong enough.


    I flicked my fingers and let my powertch onto him like an iron grip. He stopped mid-swing, his own fist standing just inches from my face.


    I had him right there, frozen and struggling.


    Oh, he did struggle, his muscles bulging, veins popping as he fought against my hold. "What... the... hell...?"


    I tsked. "Did you really think I’d fight fair?"


    <i>Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!</i>


    The idiot had the audacity to sneer like he wasn’t scared to shit right now. "You think you scare me?"


    Oh, dear Ernesto. How endearing. I loved when they tried to act tough, as if the oue of this little exchange wasn’t already written in blood.


    I tilted my head, sizing him up. Then, before he could blurt out whatever was about toe out of his mouth,


    I swung.


    I sent another punch in the jaw sprawling his way with a satisfying crack and sending him stumbling back. He spat blood onto the ground, rage shing across his face.


    "You bastard!" he growled.


    Aww. Did the little guard dog get hurt?


    He pounced at me then, forgetting just what my powers had taught him seconds ago, but—tsk, tsk, tsk—poor fool.


    Did he think he was the protagonist in this story? That he stood a chance?


    I flicked my fingers, and suddenly, his own arm twisted in the air just as he was about tond a blow on me. His fist stopped just inches from my face, frozen in ce.


    "How are you...doing... This?!" He blurted out in wonder and sheer horrification.


    I smirked and made a casual gesture, forcing his other hand to rise.


    And then, I made him p himself.


    Hard.


    The sharp smack echoed through the clearing. Ernesto staggered, eyes burning with humiliation. I, the useless and disabled Luis, was here teaching him the lesson of his life.


    Hehehe... the fucking irony.


    I chuckled. "Oh, Ernesto. Look at you. Your own worst enemy."


    "You son of a..."


    <i>p</i>.


    And then, came another hit, this time on the other cheek. Oh, this was too fun.


    I made him punch himself in the stomach next, forcing a breathless wheeze from his lips. His body trembled, trying to resist, but my power was absolute.


    His fingers wed at his shirt as he tried to fight back, muscles straining, veins bulging. He was stronger than the average wolf. Impressive. But not strong enough.


    With a growl, his body tensed, and I felt the shift start to take hold. His bones cracked, his spine arched, and his eyes burned gold as he forced his transformation despite my grip.


    Wow... I’d give him his medal. Usually, I force their wolves into a deep slumber and they never fight back whenever I attack.


    However, Ernesto was giving a hard fight back. He was actually trying to shift! Wow! Bravo!


    I arched my brow. "Oh? You’re really trying, huh?"


    His mouth coiled in a snarl, his canines lengthening. His body was twitching violently as he fought me, inch by inch, trying to rip free from my hold.


    But I was feeling particrly merciless tonight.


    I clenched my fist and rxed a bit, granting him his wish. If he wanted to turn too badly, so why not let him?


    He was shifting, his wolf was rearing its head out, hair sprouting from every hole in his body before I stopped his transformation.


    Right in the middle of shifting! Now, he was stuck between his human form and his wolf form. Hehehehe!


    If there was an award for the most creative guy in the pack, I’d kill the judges to prove how much I deserved it!


    The result of this mid-change for Ernesto? Oh,dies and gentlemen, I believe in English, one could call it an: Agonizing pain.


    A bone-crushing roar erupted from Ernesto as his body convulsed violently. His limbs spasmed, his ws only half-formed with his fangs protruding awkwardly. It was a grotesque sight—half-man, half-wolf, <ipletely</i> powerless.


    His screams were beautiful. A tune of suffering, yed just for me.


    "Hurts, doesn’t it?" I murmured, watching him writhe. "You should’ve thought about that before touching what’s mine."


    His mouth foamed, his eyes rolling back and his muscles convulsed as the pain tore through his very bones.


    The sound was getting too loud. The kind that could wake the whole estate.


    Tsk. Can’t have that.


    Time to wrap things up.


    "Shhh," I whispered, leaning in close. "You’re being so <i>loud</i>."


    And then, I grabbed his head in my hands, and with one sharp twist... <i> crack </i>was the beautiful melody that followed suit.


    The body dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.


    I stood there in silence, letting the pure pleasure of a fresh kill envelop me. Nothing came close. There was no feeling in the world that could rival this.


    You should try this sometime!


    I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. My pulse was steady. No thrill, no regret—just the satisfaction of a job well done.


    Now... what to do with the body?


    Ah. My dear little pig friends. They were sitting right there in the pigsty, waiting for me to deliver them a fresh meal... fresh blood.