Chapter 114: The Hungry Street VIII
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The blade cut toward Raka’s shoulder.
Raka raised his forearm casually.
Boom!
The sword struck his arm and... stopped.
It did not cut. It did not pierce. It only trembled like it hit iron.
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed.
Raka smiled faintly. "Cute," Raka said.
He kicked Sekhmet in response.
Thud!
His foot slammed into Sekhmet’s side.
Sekhmet flew again.
Crash!
This time he hit the floor hard, sliding through blood and water.
Scrape... scrape...
Sekhmet coughed. His blood sword dissolved into a puddle.
Raka walked toward him slowly.
Tap... tap... tap...
"Your tricks worked on my trash underlings," Raka said. "Not on me."
Sekhmet forced himself up, fists raised. He punched him.
Wham!
Raka caught it. Effortlessly...
Sekhmet tried a different move, he kicked.
Thud!
Raka blocked with his shin, not even shifting.
Raka’s knee rose and slammed into Sekhmet’s stomach.
Boom!
Sekhmet doubled, breath forced out of him.
Raka grabbed his hair, yanked his head back, and slammed him into the wall again.
Crash!
Sekhmet’s vision flashed white.
Bat Bat screamed somewhere in the chaos.
"Master!"
Auri’s voice remained calm but sharp. "Protect the master!"
The rare bats shrieked and dove harder, trying to distract.
But Raka did not care.
He lifted Sekhmet by the collar like Sekhmet weighed nothing.
"You should have run," Raka murmured.
Sekhmet’s throat tightened. He wanted to run. He truly wanted to. But Raka’s energy pressed on him like a mountain.
If he ran now, he would be chased. If he ran now, his minions would be slaughtered. If he ran now, this would become a hunt.
Sekhmet’s mind searched desperately. "What can I do? I need to find a method to beat him or leave alive with at least Bat Bat and Auri."
Then—
A soft chime inside his head.
A sound that did not belong to the hideout.
[Ding! System notification: Combat Advisory. Blood Puppet Skill is available on target: Raka.
Target battle power is within forced conversion threshold.]
Sekhmet’s eyes widened slightly.
Blood Puppet. He had it. He had forgotten it in the raw violence of survival. He had treated it like a future tool, not a now tool.
But now was exactly why it existed.
Sekhmet’s lips parted, breath shaky.
Raka tilted his head slightly.
"What," Raka asked, amused. "Do you have another trick?"
Sekhmet’s gaze hardened.
"Yes," he replied.
He did not speak the system words aloud. He did not announce it like a spell. He simply pushed his chaos energy through his blood. He focused on Raka’s blood inside Raka’s body.
He imagined threads. He imagined Chains. Not metal chains. Blood chains.
He imagined grabbing the heart’s rhythm and bending it toward his command.
Ba - dum... Ba - dum...
He activated Blood Puppet.
The air pulsed. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Raka’s eyes widened. His body froze mid-motion. His chaos energy flickered violently.
Boom —fzzzt— Boom!
Raka staggered backward, releasing Sekhmet as if burned.
"What... what did you do...?"
Raka’s voice cracked. His hands trembled. His muscles tensed as if fighting invisible restraints.
Sekhmet stood, breathing hard, blood on his lips, eyes cold. He stepped forward.
"You were right," Sekhmet said quietly. "I should have run."
Raka’s face twisted. He tried to raise his hand to strike. His arm stopped halfway.
It shook violently. His eyes widened further, horror growing.
"No," Raka whispered. "No—"
His knees buckled.
Thud!
He dropped to one knee.
The room seemed to pause.
Even the thugs on the floor stared in confused terror.
Even the two strongest men fighting Auri and the bats faltered, sensing their leader’s aura collapse. (They stand up and continue to fight.)
Raka’s breathing became ragged. His mouth opened and closed like he was drowning.
Sekhmet’s voice remained steady.
"Submit to me," he said.
Raka’s jaw clenched. His pride fought. His will strained. His chaos energy trembled like a flame in the wind.
But blood was not a debate. Blood was a command.
Raka’s shoulders shook. Then his head lowered slowly. His voice came out hoarse.
"...Yes," he whispered.
The moment he said it, something invisible snapped into place.
The chaos energy stabilized. The resistance ended. Raka’s eyes lifted again — but they were different now. Not weak. Not broken.
Just... aligned.
A forced loyalty like a knife pressed against the soul.
Sekhmet’s chest rose and fell. His body still hurts. His ribs still burned. But the balance of power had flipped in a single heartbeat.
Bat Bat hovered near his shoulder now, eyes wide.
"Master..." she whispered, stunned. "You make the big bad... small bad."
Sekhmet did not answer her. His gaze moved to the two strongest men still fighting Auri and the bats.
Auri had one pinned. The other still swung his blade wildly, trying to cut through the swarm.
Shing —Shing— Shing!
Sekhmet’s voice was calm, but it carried command.
"Raka," he said.
Raka’s head snapped toward him instantly. "Yes, master," Raka replied, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
Sekhmet pointed. "Stop them," he ordered.
Raka’s eyes flickered once, as if part of him screamed internally. Then his body moved.
Boom!
He launched forward like a beast. He grabbed the first strong thug by the throat.
Thud!
He slammed him into the floor so hard the stone cracked.
Crk!
The thug’s eyes rolled back.
Raka turned and kicked the second strong thug mid-swing.
Thud!
The man flew sideways into a wall.
Crash!
Auri stepped back smoothly, breathing controlled, eyes sharp.
Bat Bat stared at Raka like she was watching a mountain kneel.
"Respect master," Bat Bat whispered reverently.
Sekhmet wiped blood from his mouth with his sleeve, then exhaled slowly.
The hideout fell into a different kind of silence. Not the silence of victory. The silence of sudden fear.
Because the men on the floor didn’t realize what just happened. Their leader had returned. Their leader had attacked.
And now their leader stood beside Sekhmet like a dog with a leash around his soul.
Sekhmet looked at the room full of beaten criminals.
Then he looked at Raka. His new puppet. His new weapon. His new problem.
He spoke calmly. "Gather them," Sekhmet ordered. "All alive."
Raka bowed his head. "Yes, master."
Bat Bat flapped onto Sekhmet’s shoulder and whispered, delighted.
"Master, get a big friend."
Sekhmet stared at her. "This is not a friend," he said quietly.
Bat Bat blinked. "Then... big pet?" she suggested.
Sekhmet did not reply.
Because deep inside, even while standing in blood and victory, he could still hear the echo of blood chains.
Rattle... rattle...
And he knew. In Null, every new power came with a price.
Then he replied. "It’s a servant. A loyal one, who can not betray us."