Conquering the Multiverse Starting with the Black Robe

"You'll die, Butcher."

"I am already dead."

"But that damn thing will turn you into the kind of person you hate the most!"

"Listen, if you keep dragging this out, all you'll be able to do is spout nonsense about my portrait." Butcher's voice trailed off.

"Sherry, the syringe!"

French stared at him for a few seconds, then gritted his teeth, turned his head, and shouted to Sherry, who was running towards him carrying a medical kit.

Next, he tore open Butcher's Hawaiian shirt at the chest.

"Where should I inject it?"

Do I look like your chemistry teacher?

Butcher's lips turned pale, and he coughed twice. "This isn't a Breaking Bad set. We can't use...cough cough, the fastest way. Damn it, French! Hurry, I can't hold on any longer!"

"OK! OK!"

"Relax! Man, relax!" Frenchie was covered in sweat, and his words sounded more like a pep talk to himself as he drew out the fluid and expelled the air from the syringe.

He gently lifted Butcher's head.

Looking at the dying man, French suddenly flashed his mind with the face of his friend Jay, and the two tragic images overlapped in that instant.

His eyes widened instantly, and his hand holding the needle trembled uncontrollably.

A hand landed on French's palm, and the next second, their lips met.

After the kiss, Shirley touched French's face and gently encouraged him, "Sage, do what you have to do."

French looked at her, his gaze hardening, nodded firmly, took a deep breath, and steadily plunged the syringe needle into Butcher's heart. Then, he pushed all of the compound number five in the syringe into her.

The next moment, something unexpected happened!

Butcher's body arched sharply, his head touching the ground and his waist arching high.

Dark red veins protrude from the skin, and heat surges from them as if they were alive, pulsating like some kind of parasitic organism breathing.

The bones rattled violently, making a dozen or so cracking sounds in a row. From the chest cavity to the limbs, every joint and muscle seemed to be undergoing strengthening and modification.

"Ugh!" Butcher's mouth was wide open, and a low growl squeezed out of his throat. The sound was not like that of a human being, but more like the roar of some ferocious beast.

The bleeding stopped quickly.

The edges of the gunshot wound begin to shrink, new granulation tissue fills the wound, scabs over, and then it heals.

The entire process took less than ten seconds.

Hughie, the Claw Woman, and the others who witnessed the whole thing all gaped wide-eyed.

"Hiss... Huff..." Butcher's breathing gradually became steady. His pale face, which had been pale from excessive blood loss, became saturated at an extremely fast rate after the injection of Compound No. 5, revealing a strange and abnormal crimson color.

"Fuck..." Butcher blinked, turned to look at French, pressed on the healed scar on his chest, pressed down with his finger, felt no pain, only a hard texture, as if touching a piece of cowhide.

"It worked?" French looked at him in shock, a look of joy on his face.

Having just narrowly escaped death, even a tough guy like Butcher, who is used to risking his life, needs time to calm down.

He frowned, nodded with lingering fear, "...I think so. There are two possibilities: either our boss wasn't telling the truth, or I just had incredible luck and hit the jackpot, encountering an extremely low probability of success."

"Now that you've become a super-powered rascal, what superpower have you awakened?" French relaxed, hugged Sherry, and asked with a smile.

"It's hard to describe, I need to do some testing..." Butcher glanced at Hughie, who was standing not far away, hesitating. He had just said a few words and was about to get up when a crisp cracking sound suddenly rang out from inside his body.

"Pfft!" Butcher's face changed drastically. He clutched his chest and spat out a mouthful of blood. Not only was he in pain, but what was worse was that he felt something inside him awaken, like a baby about to be born. No, it was more like some kind of strange parasitic creature that was using its monstrous strength to pry open his ribs from the inside.

"Frankie! Run!"

Butcher screamed in agony.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a tentacle burst forth from the center of his chest!

Blood, mixed with bone fragments, splattered everywhere.

"Hiss!—" The tentacle was dark red all over, with a mouthpart on its head that split into claw-like parts. Its skin was covered with hideous blood vessels about the thickness of a finger, and the whole thing was covered with a layer of foul-smelling mucus.

The tentacles, like some kind of sentient being, were not under Butcher's control and began attacking everything around them that it felt threatened. They bounced in mid-air and swept straight toward the nearest Frenchman.

French only had time to push the woman in his arms away before he was slapped away the next second.

He flew several meters backward, his head hit the wall, and he groaned as he lost consciousness on the spot.

"Sage!" Shirley got up, yelled angrily, grabbed the P90 from the table next to her and opened fire on Butcher.

Rat-a-tat-tat, stray bullets flying everywhere!

"Fuck you! Let me go!" The woman was stunned by the series of events. She only snapped out of her daze when a stray bullet grazed her face and let out a hysterical, high-decibel scream. However, in such a chaotic situation, no one would respond to her.

Ding ding ding ding—

Bullets bounced wildly off Butcher's body, and he knelt on the ground in pain. Two more tentacles burst from his chest, picked up the table, and swung it, knocking Shirley down and pinning her down.

"Aaaaaah! Damn it! Stop it!"

Butcher roared in agony, his eyes burning as if a fiery light was accumulating and increasing in pressure within them.

laugh! ——

The next second, a blazing yellow ray shot out from his eyes, sweeping across the ground and carving a charred arc through the concrete, sending gravel flying everywhere.

It lifted up again, swept across the wall from bottom to top, cutting a shallow mark, and finally slashed to the side, sweeping towards the Claw Woman.

She was tied to a chair and had nowhere to hide.

"Oh, thank you..."

The woman with the grudge was in despair.

The intensely hot laser melted the chains, slicing from her left shoulder to her right waist, diagonally across her body.

The woman's expression froze in terror. The next second, her upper body slid open along the cut, steaming as it split in two, from which a pool of filth rolled out.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Hughie was terrified when he saw the tentacles being flung at him. He tried to run away but the tentacles wrapped around his legs, tightened, and snapped off.

"Ah! Fuck!!!"

"Damn it! Stop, Butcher!"

With a cracking sound of bones breaking, Hughie tripped and fell to the ground, screaming in agony as excruciating pain shot through his ankle and down his neck.

Butcher was still convulsing in place, his eyes flashing intermittently with yellow light, his pupils dilated, and he seemed oblivious to Hughie's shouts, as if he had lost his self-awareness.

With a tug, it dragged Hughie, who was struggling on the ground.

Hughie flailed his arms, instinctively groping around on the ground, trying to grab onto some obstacle that would slow him down.

He touched something.

One tube of compound number five!

The bag was overturned in the chaos, and glass tubes rolled all over the floor, many of them shattering.

The tube that Hughie was holding was still intact inside.

The bottle felt cool, hard, and smooth to the touch, just like the pistol.

No one knew that as Hughie held that gun, a strange impulse welled up inside him.

The moment his finger touched the trigger, Hughie felt his heart pounding, as if he had come back to life, and the world that had fallen into despair after Robin's death had regained its color.

He kept saying "sorry" and that he didn't mean it, repeating it over and over.

But he knew in his heart that that was actually his true self.

He wasn't against killing; he was just afraid of the consequences.

Now, with no one standing in his way, there is no room for retreat.

Bang!

Hughie’s eyes revealed an unprecedented determination and madness. He gritted his teeth, slammed the bottle to the ground, shattering the neck, and then, without thinking twice, gulped it down.

The cool liquid rolled down his throat, and less than two seconds after he swallowed it, his body began to glow.

Yes, it's not light shining from the outside, but light seeping out from inside the body, beneath the skin, in the blood vessels, and even into the bones!

They were all faintly glowing.

Then, his lower body exploded.

Below the stomach and intestines, it explodes directly.

All the body tissues from the waist down disappeared at this moment, replaced by a large pool of bluish-gray mucus.

"Wozfak!" Hughie, who hadn't lost consciousness, stared at the scene in disbelief.

The slime spread, wriggled, and gathered on the ground, like a large clump of gel with its own life.

Boucher's tentacles seemed to sense a threat.

It retreated with lightning speed, hesitated for a few breaths, and then lashed out like a whip with its arched body, striking the slime.

Hughie's lower body, resembling a slime, instinctively retaliated. After being whipped, it contracted, and several thin, slimy tentacles split off from its main body, leaping out and wrapping around Butcher's tentacles, strangling him.

The tentacles struggled free, emitting a hiss, and the next second, more tentacles responded by shooting out from Butcher's chest cavity, joining the battle.

With the addition of fresh troops, the situation immediately became one-sided, but Hughie was not to be outdone, and his upper body began to explode, adding more slime.

The mutated limbs attacked each other frantically, making wet, rubbing sounds, but with their strength evenly matched, neither could gain the upper hand, and thus they gradually fell into a stalemate.