Why is his holy light red?

No wonder this person even offered to instruct him on how to control his superpowers; it turns out the old man had gone through all that trouble to recruit him.

Mercury picked up the crudely made metal soldier and casually moved it one step forward on the grid.

The sizzling sound of flesh being instantly carbonized by the high temperature rang out again, and a wisp of white smoke carrying the smell of burning drifted out from between his fingers.

He endured the sharp pain in his fingertips and stated his position in a stiff tone: "I'll be leaving in a month."

No matter how tragic the old man's death of his son sounds, it has nothing to do with Mercury.

Mercury's life goal was to become the world's richest man, not to be a lackey of a life-sentenced prisoner in this Black Olive Prison.

The volcanic rock didn't care about his rejection at all.

The old man picked up a chess piece and slammed it onto the chessboard. With a dull thud, the metal struck heavily, sending out a few hot sparks.

"Of course you should go out. The more of your kind who wake up outside, the better you can purify those dogs and those who are willing to mingle with them."

Volcanic Rock leaned forward slightly, his voice carrying a deep, seductive quality, "Mercury, don't you want to personally crush the Holy Light Angel, this hypocritical and blasphemous heretic? I can teach you how to reach the very top of this world."

Mercury chuckled inwardly.

If this old man really had that ability, he wouldn't be locked up in this prison right now, arguing with him like this.

But he didn't dare to say it outright, for fear that Volcanic Rock would get angry and punch him.

Mercury remained silent, took a deep breath, picked up the next metal piece, and placed it on the board again.

However, this time, the expected burning pain through the skin did not occur.

The metal surface was only slightly warm, not hot to the touch.

It wasn't that the red holy light at his fingertips suddenly underwent some kind of qualitative leap, but rather that the temperature of the chess piece dropped.

The volcanic rock actively absorbed the terrifying heat that adhered to the steel.

This represents his attitude—all troubles will disappear as long as Mercury nods.

This was indeed a tempting offer, but Mercury looked at the chessboard before him and said helplessly, "You should know my background. My father is Al Anderson, and he is a friend of the Angels of Light."

"That's completely irrelevant, kid." Volcanic Rock didn't even lift his eyelids, speaking casually. "Like the logic I just emphasized, 'people' don't need to care about dogs' social circles. I don't care at all how many pets you have at home. Your parents, your siblings... if you're bored and want to offer shelter to these mortals, I don't mind at all."

The moment the words left his mouth, the volcanic rock's withered fingers gripped the most crucial "King" coin.

He completely disregarded the rules of chess and slammed the dark red iron piece heavily into the very center of the chessboard.

High-density light radiation and terrifying heat waves burst forth from the small chess piece in an instant. The air was violently distorted by the high temperature, like a miniature volcano erupting, turning the shadows around the two people crimson.

"True companions are those who stand on the same level and look in the same direction. We are God's favored children, which is why we possess the power to alter the laws of the world. This is fundamentally different from mortals whose genes are etched with mediocrity and sin."

The volcanic rock stared intently into Mercury's eyes through the scorching, distorted air: "We are saints who have washed away our sins, and we should no longer apply the hypocritical moral logic of mortals. Mercury, you possess such astonishing talent; you are a favored son of God. Stop being a lamb herded by a pack of dogs."

Mercury stared at the glaring chess piece and remained silent for a moment.

Then, he raised his eyelids to meet the old man's gaze: "Old man, in my eyes, my family is above everything else. And..."

Before he finished speaking, Mercury suddenly stretched out his right hand and grasped the "King" in the center of the chessboard, which was still radiating terrifying light and heat.

"Sizzle—"

The extreme high temperature of the cast iron melting into gold instantly penetrated the holy light's defenses, and a strong, acrid smell, accompanied by grayish-white smoke, burst out from between the fingers.

The dry, grating sound of flesh being forcibly roasted or even vaporized was extremely jarring and continuous.

Mercury's teeth were clenched so hard they clicked, and veins bulged on his neck.

The excruciating pain caused him to break out in a cold sweat, but he still held on tightly to the hot chess piece until he uprooted the "king" from the chessboard and slammed it hard onto the concrete ground next to him.

"Smack!"

The "King," which had already melted under extreme heat, crashed to the ground and exploded instantly, turning into a pool of dark red molten iron that splashed everywhere, burning several scorched pits into the rough ground.

Mercury's forehead was covered in cold sweat, but he didn't even look at his charred right hand. His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the world's second strongest player before him. Finally, he squeezed out half a sentence through gritted teeth: "If you don't know how to play chess, don't play recklessly. You've lost."

Winning or losing certainly doesn't depend on who breaks the rules more.

With his crippled hand, Mercury made it clear to Volcanic Rock that he couldn't stand hearing a single word of the value system that categorized his family as pigs and dogs.

Instead of trying to play mind games with this seasoned monster, it's better to just flip the table.

At worst, we can fight here.

The high temperature could indeed burn through his holy light barrier, but Mercury was equally confident that he could smash his fist solidly into the old man's cheekbone before he was roasted.

Youthful spirit doesn't require much calculation.

The dark red holy light contracted rapidly under high pressure, then, like a materialized stream of flame, it clung to Mercury's body layer by layer.

He immediately removed his extensive full-body defenses, compressing all his energy to his fists—since he couldn't defend against penetrating heat radiation, he would only use the holy light for offensive and self-healing purposes.

The volcanic rock's cloudy eyes revealed undisguised surprise.

He hadn't seen a young man who dared to turn against him in a long time, and the other party already knew how powerful he was; his charred hand hadn't even had time to heal yet.

Because of the unexpected event, the volcanic rocks reacted a beat slower.

But when he realized that the boy was really going to fight him, the world's second strongest superhuman slowly stood up.

With a dull thud as bones stretched, the old man's slightly hunched torso began to expand in a way that defied the laws of physics.

The ambient temperature inside the hall skyrocketed exponentially.

Mercury felt as if he had been instantly shoved into a completely enclosed steel furnace, the air around him heated to the point of boiling and beginning to twist wildly. The oxygen he inhaled carried an intense burning sensation, and the few strands of hair on his forehead curled rapidly in the extremely dry heat.

Mercury gritted his teeth, compressing the holy light in his right hand to its limit, and planted his heels firmly on the ground.

Just as the air pressure soared to the point of imminent explosion, the overhead loudspeaker suddenly blared. A hissing electronic voice blared from the speaker: "Number 6620 Mercury, someone is visiting."

But neither of the two men in the standoff blinked.

This perfectly timed broadcast intervention was clearly a lame excuse the warden used to prevent a fight between the two, and there was no need to pay it any mind. He might be torn to shreds by his opponent in the blink of an eye.

However, after a two-second pause, the second half of the sentence burst from the speaker: "The visitor is, the Holy Light Angel."

The raging crimson holy light and the distorted heat waves in the hall came to an abrupt halt, leaving the prisoners who had kept their distance to watch the spectacle utterly shocked.

A holy angel? What a coincidence that they've arrived.

All eyes involuntarily turned to Mercury. Could it be that the Holy Light Angel had been secretly protecting him all along?