Chapter 84 Unless you crush my heart to dust
1047 Words
“You’re still just a university rookie,” the Acolyte sneered, blood trickling from his lips, “yet you’ve got the nerve to threaten me?”
“I’ll have you—”
He never finished.
Adam moved.
One moment he was ten meters away—the next, he was there, gliding low like a shadow across the pavement.
His ice-forged spear flashed once—clean, silent—and punched straight through the Acolyte’s chest as if piercing soft tofu.
And through it all, his left arm never wavered. The cardboard box of ice cream remained perfectly steady in his grip—no spill, no tilt, not a single tub jostled.
This was, by far, the easiest fight Adam had faced since arriving in this world.
Well… second easiest, if you counted the spar with Serena.
The Acolyte’s eyes bulged, shock overtaking pain. He hadn’t even registered the strike yet.
*Level-5?!*
*How?! A PR student on a campus errand is Level-5?!*
“You—”
Too late.
With his last ounce of strength, the Acolyte swung his strange rod toward Adam’s head.
[From a rational risk-assessment standpoint, I strongly advise you dodge. Your skull is not harder than that thing.]
Adam: …
He tilted his head aside—despite the ice helmet shielding him, he trusted his *Hearing of Everything*.
***BOOM!***
The rod’s casual swing unleashed a shockwave that obliterated the wall ten meters behind Adam. Shrapnel rained down, peppering his coat.
Adam’s brow furrowed. A chain lashed out, snatching the rod mid-air before the dying man could react.
He examined it. About a meter long, oddly shaped, with interlocking ports at both ends—clearly a fragment of some larger device.
From past encounters, Adam knew: anyone in that red robe was never above Level-4.
That blast? Impossible for him to generate.
Which meant… the weapon itself held power.
Yet now, in Adam’s hands, it felt inert. Dead.
“Ghk… cough… cough!” The Acolyte spat blood, swaying but still upright, life fading fast. “You’ve got… some stamina.”
Superhuman University’s theory lectures had drilled one rule into every student: *Never hold back against Acolytes. Hesitation gets you killed.*
And yet—this man was still standing after a full-power ice lance through the heart. Stubborn as a cockroach.
“Heh… yeah,” the Acolyte rasped, grinning through crimson teeth. “Unless you crush my heart to dust, I can last another hour or two. Easy.”
Even at death’s door, his pride wouldn’t bend.
Maybe it was the finality of it all—he stopped resisting. He glanced at the twisted corpses of his “converts” with open disdain.
“I used to be like them,” he said quietly. “Now? Still nothing compared to golden boys like you.”
He fixed Adam with a bloodshot stare. “Kid, you look young. Tell me—why do you think the UHG hides the existence of Deities? Why all the cover stories?”
Adam stayed silent, spear steady. Sometimes, the dying spoke truths the living wouldn’t.
“Fear of public panic?” Adam offered after a pause.
“Ha! No! Wrong!”
“It’s not the civilians who are afraid—it’s you. It’s the superhumans. It’s the elites in power!”
He leaned forward, voice dropping to a feverish whisper.
“Tell me—what’s so wrong with becoming a Deity’s follower? Their slave?”
Adam didn’t strike. Not yet. Intel from a dying enemy was often more honest than any official report.
“You’re asking *me* what’s wrong?” Adam gestured to the grotesque corpses littering the ground. “Does it really need explaining?”
“But what if… there was *no risk*?” the Acolyte pressed, eyes blazing. “What if you could gain power—*real* power—just by surrendering? No pain. No death. Just… obedience.”
“Give up your precious ‘dignity’—a flimsy, invisible thing—and power is yours!”
“Dignity… or strength. Which do you think the world would choose?”
Then—he laughed.
A huge, rictus grin split his blood-soaked face. He threw his head back and cackled, wild and unrepentant.
“HAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!”
Adam watched him, silent for several long seconds.
Then, with a twist of his wrist, the ice inside the Acolyte’s chest shattered.
The light in the man’s eyes vanished instantly.
Adam stared at the body, unmoving.
This Acolyte hadn’t felt like the others. No fanatical zeal. No mindless devotion. He’d sounded… almost human. Rational. Bitter, yes—but not broken.
For the first time, Adam felt a chill that had nothing to do with his ice powers.
Shaking off the unease, he tucked the box of ice cream under his arm and sprinted back toward the hotel.
---
Diana stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of the 108th-floor suite, gazing down at the neon-lit streets below.
“He’s been gone way too long…”
“What if something happened?”
Lately, it felt like Adam had a permanent “Aggro” debuff—he couldn’t walk ten blocks without stumbling into danger.
And if *Level-5* Adam was in trouble… the entire city might be at risk.
She turned sharply, already heading for the door—
—only to freeze.
Because standing right outside her room, breath slightly ragged, was Adam himself.
Their eyes met. No words. Just a shared, silent beat of relief.
“Oh! Haha—sorry I’m late,” Adam said, rubbing his neck. “Didn’t mean to keep you starving.”
“It’s fine,” Diana replied, scanning him head to toe. No injuries. No blood. She exhaled. “As long as you’re okay.”
*Thank god. The worst didn’t happen.*
She stepped forward—and froze again.
Because in his arms… was a full box of ice cream.
Her brain short-circuited.
*He bought… ice cream?!*
Adam set the box down. “Oh, right—I need you to file a report for me. On the way back, I ran into—”
But Diana wasn’t listening.
Her eyes were locked on the ice cream. Her face flushed crimson. She looked down, voice trembling like a leaf in a storm:
“H-how long… have you known?”
Adam: ?
“Known what?”
- Writer
