Splat!
Once again, Frank did not charge his pure vigor.
He merely launched a kick, which tore Vin’s body in two.
Larry, Peter, and everyone else turned pale as they stared at the chunks of flesh and blood splattering everywhere.
“Is he… human?!” Larry murmured, before turning to glare at Peter.
He could slap Peter twice right then-what reaper did Peter bring on his doorstep?
No… Did Peter deliberately bring Frank over to kill him?!
“I… That’s impossible…” Peter was on the verge of tears, and he dropped to the floor, trembling as if someone had drained him of all strength.
If Frank chased him down, he would kill him right then!
Considering what he did and all the insults he threw at Frank, he could slap himself right then.
“W-What should I do?” he murmured, desperately searching for ideas to survive despite his shock.
That was when he found Larry glaring at him furiously.
Peter’s initial panic was suddenly gone, and like a cornered beast, he was glowering savagely at Larry too.
“It’s all because of you! Fuck you!” he screamed, lunging maniacally at Larry and knocking him down, cursing even as he punched Larry repeatedly in the face.
“What the fuck-you hit me?! I’ll kill you!” Larry yelled in pain even as Peter clobbered his face, leaving it bruised and battered.
However, Larry’s outburst only spurred Peter to hit him harder. “Fuck you! You lured me into your casino and made me rack up a huge debt! You made me frame my sister! It’s all your fault! I’ll kill you!” Naturally, Larry could not defend himself against a young man at sixty, but he had his goons.
As soon as Peter paused for a breather, he yelled at them, “What are you doing, just standing around?! Kill this prick!”
The goons, who were left dumbstruck for a long while, all charged forward, ready to pull Peter away.
Just as they reached Peter, however, a figure appeared out of nowhere and was standing beside Peter.
“Eh?!”
The goons at the front promptly stopped when they saw the figure-it was none other than Frank.
Some of them dropped to the floor since they could not stop in time, while others were already scrambling to flee.
In an instant, most of them tripped over each other and collapsed into a big, miserable bundle.
Through it all, Frank stood beside
Peter, scaring the goons into running away or dropping to their knees in front of Frank, their trembling fingers crossed as they closed their eyes and pleaded.
“Please… Don’t kill me… Don’t kill me…”
“I’d never do it again… Just let me live, dear god…”
These were all hired killers with blood on their hands and hardly feared anything.
But they were still humans, and
humans felt fear-none of them were interested in dying for nothing, especially against an enemy they could not beat.
And what Frank had done was beyond what their senses could take, as if he was some divine being.
That was why they were prostrating themselves before him, just like they would bow to a god.
“Dear god…” Frank quietly repeated the goons’ prayer, understanding just then.
There was no mistaking it—his body was almost divine. Forget kicking and punching-even the finest blade would not pierce his skin.
