Lone Cultivator In Another World

The interviewer shook Michael again, when the teenager grabbed his wrist.

"Tell me already! Wait… W-what's with the bloodl.u.s.t? Aaaaggh!"

Michael pressed, and the chubby man's wrist broke.

The weak psychologist screamed in pain, terrified of the way his hand got twisted in the supernatural teenager's grasp.

Michael shot up from the chair, slamming the interviewer on the table. With a pathetic crack, the laptop fell on the floor and spewed out electric sparks.

"You feel this?" Michael heard someone say. Was that his voice? "This is the demon. The little thing that lives in the back of my head. It's always scratching at me, scratch-scratch. Scratch-scratch! And it wants to come out and play! But I always hold it in. I push it back! Tell it, this is not the time! Well, maybe this is the time to let it come out to play!"

"Y-you're insane! Stop it now, you freak! Stop it, or your parents are dead!" the interviewer hissed, struggling to breathe with the baleful aura of killing intent filling the room.

"I know. But I know something else, too." Michael lifted the chubby man's body with one hand and smashed him against a wall, holding him by the throat. The fatty's feet dangled in the air.

Michael looked at the small camera right above them on the ceiling, "This model works with a cable, meaning there are other people in this building watching me right now. I'm coming for you."

"Your parents…!"

"You can take them. I lost them once, and I can lose them again. But you – I will send you all to hell, even if I have to follow right after!"

The teenager's face didn't belong to a human anymore. His eyes were completely red, he was crying and laughing at the same time. He had multiple nervous ticks, his cheeks and eyebrows twitching uncontrollably.

"Now. Tell me where they are, and I will kill you quickly," the little demon whispered.

"Michael!" the psychologist tried to return the teenager back to sanity, "Your name is Michael! Your mother, Nadezhda. Your father, Vladimir. Please, come to your senses! They will get hurt because of you! Just return to normal, and we'll put this incident behind us!"

The powerful hand that held him in the air froze. The interviewer looked down with a glimmer of hope, only to see a ruthless smirk stretch Michael's lips.

"You think after those ten years I can still be a normal person? Now that the darkness is out, do you see the real Michael North? There is nothing normal left in me!" He slammed the psychologist against the wall, and the chubby man blacked out with a groan.

Michael reached for his unconscious body but stopped. He looked up at the camera, suddenly appearing sane again, "You! Where are my parents?! Need to hurry. Hurry."

He patted the interviewer over mechanically and found the man's phone, which he pocketed.

The people who observed him, they had the means to contact the other site where his parents were. First, he had to break out of this metal room.

He headed to the door when a voice rang out inside his head, tripping him.

'Drink his blood! Tear his limbs!'

'Stop it, we need to hurry! Don't waste precious time on violence!'

'Tear his limbs! Flatten his head!'

"Gaaah!" Michael ran into a wall head first. "Shut up, you f.u.c.k.i.n.g animal! I am in control!"

He threw another fierce look at the camera, and in another room in that same building, shivers ran down the spines of the few people who were watching, enthralled in the violent revolt of the subject.

On the other side of the metal door, a uniformed guard stood to make sure Michael remained inside the all-metal interrogation room.

His radio came to life, "The subject is behaving erratically. Open the door and threaten him with a weapon."

The guard nodded and stepped forward, when the room shook. He frowned but reached for the button that opened the sliding door.

This time, the tremor went through the whole building.

"What is happening there?" the guard asked.

After a period of stunned silence, came the response, "The subject is slamming the door. Contact not advised."

Michael was getting angry again. Pushing and shaking the sliding door proved useless.

A s.u.c.k.i.n.g feeling in the bottom of his stomach egged him on. If there was a chance to remedy the situation and save his parents, he had to hurry. Would he have to punch the door?

Michael swallowed and approached the thick sheet of metal. He swung his fist and punched out.

The building shook.

"Agrh! Damn, it hurts!" he snarled. "Have to hurry!"

Another punch, and Michael howled in pain, cradling his injured arm.

"Faster! Faster!" Without holding back, the teenager pushed generous amounts of glory points into his arms and bashed the door with all his might.

The security guard's face on the other side was pale like paper. Small fist-shaped bumps appeared here and there. Michael's force was enough to make indentations in the metal door.

But with every punch, the teenager broke his arms and healed them with glory points. Same as months before, when he had fought Anna's stepfather, Michael's force was much greater than his body could handle. With each punch, pain drilled into his arms like molten lava, and after a minute, he lost it again.

A blood-curdling roar resounded through every corner of the building. The demon was back.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Fist-shaped indentations covered the metal surface, not leaving a single square inch untouched.

Rivulets of blood trickled down Michael's arms and shoulders. With every punch, he turned his own flesh into a mash of meat and bones, and immediately sent copious amounts of golden energy to set it right.

Millions of glory points were being wasted like water through a sieve.

Boom! Boom!

Michael laughed, reveling in pain. It made him feel alive! The enormous power stored in his body finally found a way out! His bloodl.u.s.t could not be contained!

With a mad howl, he charged both his fists with destructive power and punched out, shaking the building again.

This time, the thick metal sheet broke, revealing a hole.

Michael was on it right away, eyeing the guard on the other side. The poor man was shaking where he stood, holding onto his gun for safety. His orders were to keep the boy alive, but now he thought more about how to stay alive himself.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

With dark fascination, Michael made the hole large enough to fit his head. He pushed it in right away and had to draw back.

Pang! The bullet went through the hole but missed him. Thanks to Michael's instincts and speed, he managed to get out of the way in time.

That close encounter with death shook him a little, allowing the rational seed take over for a minute. Michael clutched his head a fell on the floor, scratching at his own face.

'Stop it! I'm in control!'

'Drink his blood! Wear his skin! Die, Leon, die!'

'Leon isn't even here, you crazy monster! You're done!'

Michael stood up on unsteady legs and checked his glory point reserves. He'd spent over 60% on breaking the wall while keeping his body functioning under multiple internal injuries.

He'd healed them, but his mind couldn't accept the fact that there shouldn't be pain. He limped to the door on healthy legs and tore the rest of the hole wide open.

The guard blanched, the gun jumping in his hands. The last five minutes were the worst of his life. His world turned upside-down. When he saw the teenager squeezing through the hole in the metal door, he was made to believe for the first time.

Monsters existed.

"S-stop now! You can't move out of the way! I'll shoot you!" he w.h.i.n.ed.

The guard was lucky that Michael was once again in control of his faculties. He used the Psychic Skill that he'd bought a little while back, Mind Shove.

The guard's head jerked back and hit the wall. He slid down and lost consciousness.

"Idiot." Gasping for air, Michael hobbled to his body and took the gun. He looked at the pathetic guard and the interviewer, whose head was bleeding back in the interrogation room.

Michael wanted to kill them, but he was too tired. He had to hurry and stop those people who were observing his friendly chat with the interviewer. Even though several minutes had passed since then, he refused to believe his parents were going to die because of his uncontrollable bloodl.u.s.t.

With the gun in his hand, he limped further down the metal box of a hall.