"I've always hated when people looked down on me." My grin vansished.
I shifted my stance to a taquewondo one, my hands flexed in fists.
But this was merely a deception.
"OCIS, bring out my only pistol from my inventory... Vagma RL." I said aloud, not out of necessity, but for the flair of it. I could've just as easily reached in and pulled it from thin air.
This inventory abilitiy was merely scratching the surface of what the OCIS was capable of.
From nothing, emerald embers flickered into existence, their magical fire flies vanishing as quickly as they had appeared. And then, just like that, the pistol materialized in the air.
Floating a few feet way from me was Vagma RL—matte black pistol with a crimson line coiling the barrel. Efficient for dealing with the lower level threats.
Flexing my left muscular arm, I grabbed it.
Turning a bored, bland look, I tried one last time while waving my pistol around.
"I hate guns. But I'm tired. Leave right now and I'll lose my reason to kill you." I uttered, my voice agressive and focused.
They didn't stop.
"Pftttt, pitifulllll." Letting my words hang, I locked eyes with their leader who was stocky and… armed. His balck haired buttcut had a receeding hairline, and he was ready to prove he didn't care.
I noticed it when he reached for something in his jacket, but when it was out of sight, I saw no gun yet.
Nonetheless, I instantly knew what to do.
"I can read your malice," I said while one of my passive skills activated.
Malice Sense.
Then, with a mere thought, I pulled the trigger at not the armed man, but another extra cannibal.
OCIS, fire mind-control bullet.
A white bullet erupted at speeds faster than modern pistols.
"What are ya yapping about?" He said, revealing a glock17.
I knew it. Man, this new skill really is coming to be useful.
A loud pew could be heard as he prepared to pull the trigger. Prepared as in try. He never got to the actual pulling part.
A small hole tore through his skull, the white bullet returning to my side like it was a long companion.
Blood poured. His body slumped and fell with more gore than you'd expect.
"I'm not a hero. Go eat as many humans as you want. Last chance… just leave." I said flatly, giving them a chance to flee.
Careless, they continued their fearless attacks.
"Why aren't you people scared?!" I shouted, my voice filled with disdain. "Compared to me? You're nothing but lesser ants! How can you not see it?!"
One by one, they fell.
Blood splattered across the sand, creating a grim enviorment. Strangely, none of it touched me or my clothes, as if some unseen force shielded me from the chaos I had unleashed.
Like, their blood wasn't deserving to touch my skin.
Their screams echoed in the air, their final breaths rattling in their throats. And there I stood, a cold observer of my own chaos.
"This isn't my fault," I muttered, gazing down at six lifeless bodies. "All of you brought this upon yourselves," I finished, my tone as hollow as the desert around me.
Half of the work was done. Now onto the left side.
Men. Women… even a guy who looked to be a teenager. It no longer mattered.
Bawake leveled the field.
The bullet danced like a wraith, the velocity of the bullets speed faster than any modern pistols.
Moving through the air freestyle wherever I commanded it to go, the white bullet was blazing through the air at six thousand miles per hour.
In thirteen seconds, twelve human lives were extinguished, all fallen and shot in the head with perfect accuracy.
I stood alone, bright red blood staining the sand like wilted petals.
I didn't raise a hand.
My eyes remained fixed ahead, unblinking. Below me, on the bottom half of my vision was a bloodbath, tons of blood spilling over the sand.
But above, the world reverted to its dull, light brown hues, the barren desert stretching out as a reminder that this was merely a moment in the past.
Was it beautiful?
Was I...
An artist?
"I'm sorry, not for your own mistakes, but for the world that molded you into these vile creatures," I muttered, my gaze returning to the lifeless corpses scattered around me.
"May you rest well. I've painted your afterlife with a crimson portal. Step through it, become something else. Someone... better." I spoke down to the bodies before a sudden interruption shattered the eeriness.
A surprise.
I returned my pistol along with the bullet back to my magical inventory and instantly listened in while reading.
A notification popped up, blinking into existence with a radiant, grassy-green glow and sleek futuristic patterning.
[Congratulations. You've eliminated the desert raiders who've plagued tourists for the past year. The Empty Dune Deity extends its gratitude. Initiating teleportation sequence.]
The system's manly voice chimed, and the message stayed across the window like a digital blessing.
As I read it, a wave of dopamine surged through my brain, "I'm actually getting out of this goddamn wasteland?! Yes, finally! Was this a hidden event or something? Maybe some kind of secret quest reward?"
I joyfully smiled to myself, manic with relief. "I wonder if my ship in Florida's still standing… ha, probably stolen."
Being teleported here felt like punishment. Leaving it now felt like fate was tossing me a bone.
I threw my arms toward the heavens, shouting as emerald pixels swirled around me—encasing me in a luminous capsule of luck.
"I'M FINALLY GETTING OUT OF HERE!"
Space and time warped around me, twisting reality until, in a matter of seconds, I reappeared—right where I'd left off.
Outside my spaceship.
Which also happened to be my home.
Government officials were already combing the perimeter, their black suits sharp as obsidian blades.
The moment I materialized, every head snapped in my direction.
Without hesitation, they reached for their pistols in sync.
'Fuck. Why am I taking a liking to all this chaos? Is it purpose I feel… or adrenaline? And what the hell are they doing here?'
"State your name and place in florida!" An African American buffed out male screamed at me, requesting I make my presence be known.
Another green window appeared out of nowhere.
[Welcome back to Earth, Vett. The next step in our quest is simple—find fuel and get off this shithole of a planet. But… not before you conquer it.]
'CONQUER?! Like becoming the strongest commander on the planet? You can't be serious man…'
Reading the questline, my eyes widened, confusion spreading like a slow glitch across my mind.
Lost in thought, amidst the confrontation with these humans, I struggled to make sense of the unfolding chaos.
'Conquer?' The notion lingered in my mind. 'You talking about becoming the most formidable commander on this planet? You can't be serious…'
Calming down and taking on a relaxed visage, I raised my hands, a silent gesture of peace, to indicate I harbored no ill intentions.
But I couldn't help but blast a threatening gaze.
The African American agent murmured to one of his colleagues, "He's raising his hands, but why do I feel like I should shoot him right now, just to be safe?"
Since I couldn't hear their conversation, I chose to respond to his unspoken query.
"I'm a resident of Florida, Vett Yellip. Before Bawake, I was an office worker. As for this oddity... it's not an actual spacecraft. Don't be concerned. It's merely a conceptual home built by yours truly."
"And why should we trust you?" the same agent asked, wary.
I offered a smile and lowered my hands. "How about I show you around inside?"
I wasn't shaken by their guns.
Internally, I was considering the possible outcome if they pulled the trigger.
"If they dare fire, it's not as if I can't dodge their bullets." A fleeting smile flashed across my face as I silently thanked the system.
"My deepest gratitude to you, OCSIS. Though I've often complained, I truly do appreciate you."
Gradually, they lowered their weapons as I continued to show them I meant no harm.