He is the leader of the Tantric sect in Chagdu.

Chapter 109 The Godfather

With "budding" as the first node, the mysterious power truly reveals its extraordinary nature.

Especially for an apprentice who studies fire—when his beating heart in his chest becomes a pump of "power" and the blood flowing under his skin resembles molten fire, then he is almost invincible to mortals of flesh and blood.

Even with the aid of cybernetics and firearms, the outcome is similar—this is the crushing power of the life class and the condescending view of the mysterious. If Ronan wanted to, he could burn these usually arrogant thugs to charcoal like igniting a loose, porous wad of cotton.

The firelight flowed in his eyes, and no one dared to look him in the eye for more than two seconds—the first half second was just a dry mouth and throat, followed by an unbearable soreness, the mucus in his tear ducts seemed to evaporate because of the touch of his gaze, and then the blood in his whole body began to boil—in the process of being judged, every second was like being in hell.

The Godfather remained seated in the same high-backed chair, his eyes half-closed, the fine sweat on his forehead quickly burned away by the omnipresent heat.

Not much time had passed since the "demon" appeared, yet the original container workshop was now a scene of utter devastation. The surrounding iron walls had warped and twisted under the relentless, scorching heat, and had been torn away—in a large, blackened area that looked as if it had been burned, Ronan stood in the center of the ashes, ten meters away from the charred remains scattered everywhere—in just ten minutes, more than half of their "core members" had become the victims of this demon, and now, only—

Standing before the Flame Demon was a giant over two and a half meters tall.

The "Hammer" is the Mafia's ultimate weapon and the last line of defense to protect the Godfather.

Clearly, this is a "cyborg psychopath," the Black Hand's trump card—over 75% hypermechanicalization grants him the same overwhelming power as ordinary people—the composite alloy filling his skeleton, the oil-filled blood vessels, and the exploding, heat-filled heart allow him to withstand a normal two-ton weight load.

This is a genuine humanoid weapon. Even without high-specification firepower, it can rival a full power armor set in strength. If we also consider the flexibility of the prosthetic body, a standard-equipped cleanup crew would most likely be unable to defeat such an iron man in close combat.

But for Ronan, this was at most a slightly special elite monster.

He didn't even use any mysterious power to ignite his opponent's soul; he simply used the most brutal and direct method: hand-to-hand combat, to fight this steel monster. The battle seemed to have reached a stalemate for a short time—the chainsaw sword held by the cyber madman had been overclocked to its limit, faintly tearing a blinding rainbow light in the air, carrying terrifying heat.

"Why the hell?" Heavy Hammer roared from the vocal cords of his collapsed lungs, a roar so suppressed it was distorted and twisted with rage.

At this moment, the forearm wielding the greatsword alone was thicker than Ronan's entire thigh. However, under the Cyber ​​Madman's almost frenzied slashing and smashing, only dazzling sparks spewed out from the center of the battlefield. The chainsaw sword emitted a piercing shriek under each collision, like a howl of reaching its limit and about to shatter.

"Ora ora ora ora ora ora—!"

A roar, accompanied by the tearing sound of steel, spread like a storm, the deafening noise sending scattered ashes flying into the sky. The dedicated thugs were fighting with all their might, even risking their lives; the overloaded motors and the implanted spinal cord emitted high-pitched screams, and the molten chainsaw sword left afterimages in its wake—

The seemingly terrifying attack failed to achieve its intended purpose.

"Clang—" A tooth-grinding sound shook the two sides apart. The red-hot chainsaw emitted a "sizzling" cooling sound, and the heavy hammer, which had been pushed back more than ten steps, suffered another defeat in the second round of attack.

The figure that should have been crushed in the first round, who appeared to be only chest-high, was now standing firmly in place in an incomprehensible way, without having moved an inch. The cracked concrete was scarred from the fierce battle, but the guy in front of me, who looked no different from an ordinary person, was still exactly the same as he had been at the beginning.

The sky was calm and the wind was gentle, yet it was as dazzling as fire. Luo Nan raised his head slightly, and in the flames, he grinned with an eerie smile. He twirled his greatsword in a magnificent circle, drawing a crimson arc in the air before plunging it deep into the ground. He was now leaning half of his body against it, shielding his face with his hands to avoid the gale as he lit a cigarette.

He exhaled a puff of white smoke; the cigarette, smoldering in the high temperature, quickly turned black after only a few puffs. Ronan raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and asked, "Again?"

"What the hell gives you the right?" The unvented violence in those crimson eyes was about to explode—Hammer simply couldn't understand or accept the scene before him: a young man who looked like he hadn't undergone any modifications, with a fair and tender body, and a cyber madman who had replaced almost all of his body components with steel, going head-to-head with him.

They were even at a disadvantage.

At this moment, the overclocked mechanical body, which had been almost completely depleted, had exhausted all its fuel. Its chest was as red as molten iron, most of the heart pump module was destroyed, and the artificial skin covering it had long been burned into denatured protein, emitting a foul sulfur smell.

—We can't keep fighting like this—

The last of the coolant flowed through the dried-up fluid pipes throughout his body, bringing a precious moment of clarity to Hammer—besides anger and confusion, fear quickly welled up in his heart. Logically speaking, cyber madmen shouldn't experience such complex emotions—their heavily modified nervous system and implanted chips had long since removed anything that would affect performance.

But he still felt waves of heart palpitations, perhaps because something else had been burned.

In short, if the fighting continues, we will definitely die.

But Ronan completely ignored the complex emotions that had shifted within him in just a few seconds. He simply tilted his head and uttered the word that sent a chill down the other man's spine: "Again?"

"Godfather—" With his hands worn down to bone, Hammer raised the chainsaw sword high and shouted the name again, followed by a distorted whisper, "The power of the demon is incomprehensibly strong. I will do everything in my power to stop him here and defend your honor."

"And you, Godfather, perhaps you can go ahead to the homeland and witness my glory—"

These words were not spoken in secret from Ronan, nor did Ronan have the opportunity to say them—the cyber madman's unspoken message was also a reminder to his master to escape quickly.

Is this the end?

Ronan sighed softly upon hearing this. Compared to the giant before him, his physique appeared far too frail—yet the massive sword in his hand, half a man's height with ribs growing across it, gleamed with infinite ferocity amidst the blood-red flames.

"What a pity." He lifted his leg from the collapsed ground and stepped forward step by step through the spiderweb-like cracks.

The apprentice of fire raised his head, his crimson eyes solemn and lamenting: "If you can't even satisfy me, then turn into pure white ashes beneath your feet."

The next instant, he switched from defense to offense, taking another step to the side, sending up a cloud of dust that was smelted into glass-like clarity by the terrifying temperature. The intense fluctuations of the secret energy tore through the surrounding darkness, and the ashes scattered around the flames, while thick steam rose from the edges.

A fleeting moment of closeness.

then----

A ring of bright red flames surrounding the word "eternal flame" suddenly burst into flame.

"You are weak and powerless," he murmured, before unleashing another crescent slash that rounded the greatsword.

The path the fire traversed left a trail of devastation, the air shrieked as it was expelled, and the void was cleaved open by the blood-red flames, creating a deep ravine.

The last fuel flowed into his heart, and the flames reflected in the prosthetic eyes—both of the hammer's eyeballs had been burned to ashes, and charred liquid flowed from the empty eye sockets. The metal frame of his face twisted and collapsed in the intense heat, and all light was filled with a ghastly red.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!!! Don't fucking underestimate me!" The chainsaw sword roared, facing the surging flames before it. Its final ferocity transformed into resolute power. With a flash of brilliant light, the two greatswords collided in a decisive clash. "Clang!"

The chainsaw, which instantly proved decisive and shattered into countless pieces, along with an arm that had melted off at the shoulder, shot into the air dozens of meters high. The fragments fell to the ground with a clattering sound, the welded strength no longer able to withstand the flames that were so close at hand. When the metal plate on the hammer's chest was sliced ​​open by the eternal flame as if cutting butter, and even the disfigured head was split in two, the steel giant stopped operating at that moment.

Cyber ​​Madman collapsed to the ground, boiling engine oil spilling everywhere, sizzling as it cooled.

The fuel inside the body spewed high, only to be quickly evaporated by the flames. Ronan wiped the bone fragments off his face and silently inserted the Everlasting Flame back into his body.

The terrifying giant sword vanished in the blink of an eye.

— Done.

After stretching his burning joints, Ronan took a deep breath and slowly turned his gaze to the figure not far away.

"It's over," he said, then slowly stepped forward. Trembling gazes surrounded him like his subjects, their fearful heartbeats serving as accompaniment to the suddenly quiet battlefield.

On the dark earth, the flames were temporarily extinguished, and although the temperature had not yet dropped, the operation should have come to an end.

As he walked, completely oblivious to the oppressive aura he was instilling in them, Ronan glanced at another corner: petite silhouettes appeared and disappeared in the shadows, and those who tried to escape amidst the fierce fighting quickly had their heads rolled off their necks—

A pair of clear, bright eyes, like glass, glanced at him. Ronan saw Qi hiding in the darkness and gave him a slight nod.

That's roughly the meaning of "Well done."

"Well----"

Ronan's lips twitched—how could he not feel happy at all being praised by a child in such a way?

—Actually, I have to say, a cybernetic madman like Hammer is still somewhat threatening to a non-combat mystic who hasn't reached the first stage yet, provided the latter doesn't use mystical mechanics to kill and just engages in a direct confrontation.

Or rather, it's highly likely that they can't win.

After all, not everyone is a numerically gifted Fireman who can tear steel plates apart like it's nothing.

But Ronan chose the most manly way of fighting, showing no fear whatsoever, going head-to-head with who's afraid of whom! — This was the way to quell the unrest and demonstrate another kind of power of the Greys in front of certain factions that still had some "blood on their sleeves"—the authority of power.

Whether it's creating a crater or boosting numbers, the point is to achieve this kind of performance to completely convince others. That's what the fox said—before this operation, Ai also strictly explained the mission objectives: kill those who should be killed, and for the rest, crush them with overwhelming power so that they will fear and respect Gray Court.

—I have definitely exceeded expectations.

Ronan wondered if he had been manipulated by that fox, completing a task that wasn't difficult at all—and he was even a little smug about it. But then again, someone else might not have been able to do it this well.

—Without awakening divine power, one might not be able to defeat a cyber madman of this strength head-on.

His brief reverie quickly passed, and he traversed the short distance ahead—until he stood quietly before the "godfather" of the Black Hand Gang. Ronan was still somewhat absent-minded, but soon, he witnessed an unpleasant scene—

The Godfather did not choose to flee, and among the last group of loyalists surrounding him, several people quietly raised their guns in the shadows—although in the previous battle, small arms had been confirmed to be ineffective against this "demon," and .45 bullets would not even be qualified to touch his skin before melting into a pool of molten iron.

But they did it anyway, whether out of some stroke of luck or an overwhelming fear—and Ronan raised an eyebrow and gave a mocking smile.

"Perhaps the humble have not yet come to understand their own weakness."

As he said this, he put another cigarette in his mouth. "Is that so?"

"No."

The Godfather sat silently in the high-backed chair, his expression unchanged, his lips barely moving. "They understand."

He waved his hand behind him, and all the guns were silently withdrawn. A second or two later, a young man who looked about the same age as Ronan quickly walked up, held up a match with trembling hands, and lit the cigarette in Ronan's mouth.

The young man was nervous, so the match went out twice, but Ronan was patient. He quietly looked at the "godfather," a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

"Why not try something else?" Ronan said softly. "Like explosives, or sniping. As far as I know, people in the suburbs are best at those methods."

—Since he couldn't directly slash the sniper bullet, Ronan felt that he hadn't shown off enough.

The Godfather murmured softly, his voice low but clearly audible.

"That wouldn't be respectable."

He murmured, then let out another heavy sigh, as if accepting the sorrow of fate—but inexplicably, Ronan frowned, and he heard a hint of obscure relief in his voice.

"young people."

The Godfather said, "This is your power—it's really powerful, more powerful than I ever imagined."

His tone was sorrowful and confused. "That's right—I never understood why those guys could sit in those high and mighty positions. Now I know, now I know—"

"Our previous rebellion, in your eyes, is probably no different from what those people saw—ridiculous, isn't it?"

He said, "It's like humans looking down at ants, because it's interesting—or for some other reason, I don't know, and I don't need to know."

The Godfather raised his head, his half-closed eyes turning a lifeless, deathly gray. "You, the high and mighty, have taken our place. This godforsaken place—has it just welcomed a new bunch of bastards to continue being the damned rulers, or has something changed? I don't know, I don't know—"

"but----"

He pointed a finger at the young man who had lit Ronan's cigarette: "You might be able to give some of us a chance. The old man is dead in this shit-filled place, rotting in the past, and can no longer understand what 'good' or 'right' is—but my men, they have other paths to take. I beg you, give them this chance, let them be the kind of people you want to see."

"As for me, I'll go down and join my followers."

The next instant, he yanked his hand, which had been under the table, up, revealing a dark gun barrel pointed at his chin. His expression was one of gleeful savagery. "Grey Court, you sons of bitches, go eat shit!"

"Bang"

Ronan did not stop it; he watched the scene unfold quietly.

The bullet pierced his jaw, went through his skull, and penetrated his brain.

The Godfather's hand fell limply to his side.

he died.

Ronan looked at his corpse.

"Tsk."

He took the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it at the man's feet, without doing what the fox had said—to put it in his mouth or stuff it into his eyes.

"Let's leave it at that for now."

2

He glanced one last time at the crowd surrounding the Godfather's body, turned and strode away. The next instant, the cigarette butt burst into a bright flame.

The crowd scattered in fear.

Moments later, the flames died down, leaving only a dark, human-shaped outline on the ground.

The wind, whose origin is unknown, blew him away.