Clack, clack, clack—
You were carefully sharpening a massive axe whose edge was covered in tiny chips.
The sweat-drenched muscles across your body flexed and rippled with every movement, constantly radiating a peculiar sense of strength and beauty. Even the Triumph Ropes around your powerful spine gleamed with a crimson sheen.
"Brother, please hold on—"
At that moment, a chaotic cry filled with grief and sorrow temporarily interrupted your sharpening.
You took a deep breath.
Slowly, you pushed your towering, three-meter-tall body up from the ground.
You glanced down at the massive axe, then turned and walked outside.
The moment you stepped out of the dim, cramped room, you saw countless raggedly dressed men and women, their muscles still relatively strong, surrounding a man whose limbs had just been mutilated as they cried out without pause.
"Everyone, move aside! Lord Angron is here!"
A much younger-looking boy noticed your arrival and immediately shouted to the people around him.
The surrounding people immediately rose, bowed slightly in your direction, and made room for you to examine the wounded man.
You strode forward, your massive body swaying with each step.
You merely crouched down to inspect his grievous wounds, and a trace of sorrow appeared on your bronze face.
"My brother, take my hand. The only thing I can do is let you go peacefully."
You spoke solemnly to the mutilated man.
You gently clasped one of his rough, bloodless hands.
In an instant, all of his pain and injuries rapidly transferred into your massive body.
The mutilated man before you immediately revealed a smile and relief that no one had ever seen on his face before.
Just seconds later, he peacefully closed his eyes.
"Yochuka, take this brother where he belongs!"
Without looking back, you rose to your feet and spoke