Massacre

"Yahoo!"

Clayton, who had long been unable to wait, let out a strange cry and shot into the sky, flying toward the capital of Big Mouth Star with both hands raised above his head.

The other recruits exchanged glances, excitement gleaming in their eyes as they flew out from the mountaintop in every direction.

For a moment, only Sparta and Jayce remained.

"You're different from them."

Only after the recruits had completely vanished from sight did Jayce turn to look at Sparta.

"Violence runs in a Viltrumite's DNA. Fighting is our instinct."

"Perhaps only one warrior like you appears among a hundred million Viltrumites."

As he spoke, Jayce's voice scraped across Sparta's heart like a blade. "Carry out your orders, or face military punishment!"

Sparta opened his mouth and looked at the captain before him, wanting to say something.

But in the end, all his words became two simple ones.

"Understood."

In the Viltrumite Empire, military punishment was an extremely serious matter, especially for disobeying orders.

The only outcome for disobeying military orders was execution.

Though he had always remained kind, would he let himself be executed for a group of unrelated Big-Mouthians? Sparta couldn't do that.

In order to survive... I'm sorry.

Sparta bent his legs and kicked off with both feet, his body turning into a streak of light as he flew into the distance.

"You insects really do have the nerve to resist."

"I should have killed every last one of you long ago!"

Above the capital, Clayton wore a tattered combat suit and stared crazily at the Big-Mouthian army gathering below him.

Not only had these insects failed to surrender with their hands raised and await his slaughter, they had even raised their weapons at him.

How could this possibly be allowed?!

He would return the rage and humiliation Sparta had inflicted upon him a hundredfold to these lowly creatures.

"Shoot him down!"

A Big-Mouthian officer pointed at Clayton in the sky and gave the order to the soldiers.

In an instant, every anti-air missile defending the capital completed its lock-on.

Countless missiles, flames blasting from their tails, poured toward Clayton.

"Hm?"

Clayton hurriedly dodged, but several missiles still struck his body. Sparks and fire burst out, swallowing him whole.

"Good! Direct hit!!"

Before the officer's cheer had even faded, Clayton's figure dove out of the flames the very next second.

His expression was crazed and twisted, exactly like a demon crawling out of hell.

At least, that was how the officer saw him.

"Hahahahahaha!"

"I'll twist your heads right off your necks!!"

Laughing wildly, Clayton smashed down from the sky, and the shockwave instantly blew away soldiers within dozens of feet.

The soldiers were flung several yards away. Some crashed into their comrades and were sent flying together, while others hit the ground, their fate unknown.

As Clayton landed, all armored units swiftly completed their encirclement.

"Tch, a bunch of paper shells."

Clayton felt no ripples in his heart at being surrounded. He even felt like laughing.

"You think that just because—"

"Fire!!"

The officer shouted the command without hesitation, unwilling to listen to any more nonsense from him.

Clayton's words were drowned out by artillery fire, leaving only thunderous explosions echoing across the land.

To everyone's surprise, Clayton actually advanced through the barrage.

He was too fast—so fast that no one could react, so fast that even satellites could not lock onto him.

Clayton suddenly appeared before a tank, grabbed its cannon barrel, and violently swung it.

The tank, weighing over thirty tons, was hurled into the air and crashed through a skyscraper over three hundred feet tall.

The building was instantly sheared in half. More than half its structure collapsed amid a deafening roar, and the resulting dust cloud swallowed several streets.

Big-Mouthian civilians wailed as the collapsing buildings crushed them into pulp.

Clayton's slaughter had not stopped. His figure became an afterimage as he used only his body to smash apart tanks and armored vehicles.

The entire street was covered in armored wreckage, severed limbs, organs, and entrails.

"Tch, boring."

Clayton flew back into the sky, still holding a soldier whose legs kicked wildly.

The soldier drew a pistol from his waist and fired a shot into the torn wound on Clayton's cheek.

The bullet lodged in his flesh, causing Clayton pain.

His hand loosened, and the soldier fell toward the ground with a terrified scream, splattering into a mangled pile of flesh and blood.

"Ah!"

Clayton covered his injured cheek with one hand and cursed, "Damn you, Sparta! If it weren't for you, how could these insects have injured me?!"

After cursing, he looked around with an unhappy expression.

"The buildings here are too densely packed. I need to make an amusement park."

Clayton's figure darted between the buildings. In the blink of an eye, several structures had been rammed into collapse.

The ground was covered in dust, and countless Big-Mouthians died beneath falling debris from the sky.

Listening to the screams below, Clayton's face broke into a blissful smile.

"Scream, scream! The more you scream, the more excited I get!"

"Hehehehehehe."

After a long while, Clayton stopped his destruction.

Looking over his masterpiece, he saw that the bustling city had become ruins as far as the eye could see, black smoke rising into the clouds. He planted his hands on his hips in satisfaction.

At that moment, a missile loaded with high explosives and trailing flames flew toward him from behind.

"Huh?"

Hearing the sound, Clayton turned around with his hands still on his hips and looked at the missile already before his eyes.

"Boom—!!!"

The missile struck Clayton and exploded, sending a small mushroom cloud soaring into the sky.

Everything within a hundred meters was erased, while the resulting shockwave shattered every window and pane of glass within a kilometer.

Caught completely off guard, Clayton was shot down by the missile.

He fell from the mushroom cloud and crashed heavily into the ground, spiderweb cracks spreading across the surface.

"What the hell?!"

Clayton climbed up from the ground and brushed the dust off himself.

Before he could react, several more missiles slammed into his body or exploded beside him.

A series of booms rang out, leaving several massive craters where Clayton stood.

When the explosions faded, he was still standing there. Aside from his slightly scorched hair, he was practically unscathed.

After the fire support ended, the Big-Mouthian forces regrouped and advanced toward Clayton's position.

A soldier came up to the officer and said,

"General, the Emperor has authorized nuclear missile launch permission."

The officer frowned and immediately refused.

"So what? Do you know how many civilians are still in the city? How can we launch nuclear missiles!"

"But General, without nuclear support, we don't seem to be a match for him!"

"The civilians come first. Do you know the consequences once a nuclear missile is launched?!"

"General, even more people will die without nuclear missiles!! This is a necessary sacrifice!!"

"You... I'll consider it..."

The officer let out a sigh. Launching a nuclear missile in the center of the city would kill many people, and that was something he did not want to see.

He could only hope the 400,000-strong coalition army in the capital could repel the powerful enemy.

Otherwise...