Chapter 93: A Family Should Always Be Together

Watching the boy’s extraordinary greatness, the Black Widow was momentarily stunned, sensing something was amiss. This was far beyond mere talent—even among certain African tribes renowned for their physical attributes, nothing reached this level. It was impossible even with animal transplants. No wonder she’d felt uneasy earlier; the boy’s trousers always seemed oddly bulging, and she'd suspected he was hiding a gun in his pocket.

He really was hiding a gun—a colossal one, though not the kind she’d imagined.

She had seen the boy’s photograph before; he looked utterly normal in every respect. Now, transformed so suddenly, it was clear he’d been possessed by the “Beast,” becoming the “Black Void.” His primal desires had been magnified, along with the very emblem of masculinity.

The urge to reproduce, to propagate, is the most primal longing of life.

A true amalgam of original sin and primal desire—how perverse!

Black Widow couldn’t help but glance at Erika beside her.

If a woman were possessed by the “Beast,” what changes would her body undergo?

“Retreat, quickly!”

Thinking of the ancient records about the “Beast,” the staff elder cried out, “It’s absorbed the primal desires and original sins of hundreds. Its power has descended greatly—none of us can handle this!”

“Matt! Erika! Run! Go fetch the Immortal Iron Fist!”

Whoosh!

The elder’s vision blurred; the boy appeared before him without warning. Shadows enveloped his entire form, especially his eyes, as if he’d been cultivating immortality for seven days and nights straight. His aura was ominous, radiating frenzy and rage.

He struck with a single punch.

The elder felt everything receding at breakneck speed; his body flew through the air, tracing a path over ten meters before crashing heavily onto the ground.

Crack!

Several tiles shattered.

His head lolled to the side, and he lost consciousness instantly.

Black Widow’s eyes narrowed. “He’s even stronger than before!”

He hadn’t been this powerful moments ago—otherwise, she wouldn’t have lasted so long. Had more people died nearby? Who could be responsible?

For the Black Void to reach such strength, surely over a hundred lives had been lost.

With firearms useless, Matt discarded his submachine gun and drew two short batons from his back, charging at the boy. “Skye, we need help! The Immortal Iron Fist!”

Then he heard the sound of air being displaced.

Barely able to react, a fist smashed into his chest.

The boy’s speed was beyond belief—no human could achieve this.

Through his sharpened senses, Matt could clearly perceive every motion of his opponent, but his frail body couldn’t keep up. He was defeated with ease.

“Four ribs broken, internal bleeding around the heart, minor lung injury, stomach laceration, kidneys intact…”

Matt swiftly assessed his own injuries.

Youth was his asset; he was far hardier than the elder. Though severely wounded by the punch, he neither died nor lost consciousness.

But most of his combat ability was gone.

The fight henceforth no longer concerned him.

“Beast!”

Erika gripped a short sword in each hand, her eyes ablaze, face contorted, body trembling.

In the blink of an eye, the boy was before her.

As the “Black Void,” a born vessel, facing the descending “Beast” was like a puppy meeting its master—utterly incapable of resistance. Like a girl caught in the gaze of her idol, her strength vanished in an instant.

Weak and helpless, she collapsed.

It wasn’t just psychological defeat—it was physical submission.

Her body was the vessel for the “Beast,” and her soul likewise.

As an amalgamation of original sin and primal desire, the “Beast” could only exist in the real world through the “Black Void,” a symbiotic relationship, reminiscent of the “Venom” she knew nothing about.

“You are mine!”

The boy spoke, his sharp, youthful voice tinged with ancient, wicked terror. Erika gritted her teeth, feeling a limitless horror descending from the boy onto herself.

The “Beast,” empowered by endless slaughter and sin, began to transfer from the boy’s frail body to her trained, athletic form.

Erika felt an abyssal darkness.

It threatened to engulf her, to assimilate her, to utterly consume her.

Suddenly, she saw a glimmer of light.

Amidst the boundless blackness, a fiery blaze erupted.

A chain flew in from afar, hellfire spreading across the boy’s body.

“You are mine!”

Robbie, wreathed in flames, strode forward from the distance. Even as the Spirit of Vengeance screamed in his mind to flee, he ignored it.

This boy before him—and the ancient evil god attached to him—incited a ravenous hunger. The evil here surpassed a thousand criminals combined; if only he could slay them, he'd be sated, and so would the Spirit of Vengeance, making him stronger.

“You are guilty!”

Robbie exerted himself to the utmost, hellfire surging from him, flowing along the chain to consume the boy in flames.

His eyes burned with fire. The boy’s crimes flashed before him like film reels—this was the “Eye of Judgment,” another signature skill of the Ghost Rider besides “Hellfire.”

“Your soul has been corrupted by the victims.”

“Feel their pain!”

A sinister, cruel smile twisted the boy’s face.

“Ghost Rider!”

He seized the chain, hellfire extinguishing visibly, and a black force laden with sin and desire crept along the chain toward Robbie.

“Do you know who you’re facing?”

“I am the Beast!”

“The undying, immortal Beast!”

…

…

Underground.

In a single minute, the battle was over.

More than a hundred people, not one left alive.

Alexandra, Murakami, Gambler, So Wanda—four corpses lay on the ground. Without new dragon bones, their deaths were final.

Of course, monks have ways to resurrect the dead, but even for a grandmaster, it’s difficult and costly—and Old Wang had no reason to do so.

He pondered, then arranged the four bodies neatly, aligning them side by side, closing their eyes so they could rest in peace.

“A family should stay together.”

“Lady Gao waits for you in the freezer—don’t worry, you’ll be reunited soon.”

“And I’ll fulfill your lifelong dream, sending you home. Consider it… my repayment for helping me find the dragon bones and open the gates of Kunlun.”

Old Wang lifted his gaze, his mental power probing through thick earth, dozens of walls, and hundreds of meters—spreading like a vast net across the building. Soon, he found an unimaginably evil soul, a force growing ever stronger.

A naked boy, as if crawled out from hell.

“Beast…”

A faint smile curved Old Wang’s lips.

“I am coming!”