CHAPTER 40: CHAPTER 40: I AM A HYPOCRITE

No one from the Red team moved.

Despite Adam facing the Blue team alone, no one from his team moved. But not because they were frozen in place by fear, but because Adam ordered them not to fight.

Even Grace, fully wanting to, didn’t follow. She clutched Samantha’s shoulders, watching Adam walk alone toward the crystal.

The burden of what needed to be done—he’d claimed it entirely for himself. Grace wanted to share it with her, to fight alongside him now, at least for her daughter.

But Adam shook his head, as if telling her that her hands should only be for protecting her daughter, and her alone.

Just what sort of man was Adam, really?

Grace knew almost nothing about him, but she knew enough. She knew that Adam could have killed his way through this entire Game.

She knew that Adam was a tortured soul, and perhaps out of all of them, had the most right to be a monster.

But he wasn’t.

Why? Why did she have to meet him in this sort of circumstance?

Her thoughts trailed, but soon, even that was overshadowed by the silhouette of the people blocking Adam’s path, their backs showered by the soft light of the blue crystal behind them.

Still, Adam marched once more.

And after much hesitation from the Blue team, they rushed forward again, a metal pipe raised high. "We... we warned you!"

Adam didn’t dodge, because he knew he deserved whatever pain was coming his way. He just let the pipe connect with his shoulder, letting out a sickening crack that made Grace wince. She also covered Samantha’s ears, but the little girl no longer shied away from the violence.

The same couldn’t be said of the Blue creep who first attacked Adam.

"W...what?" he stammered, staring at Adam, who remained standing.

Adam looked at him with tired and pained eyes, then struck—one clean hit to the liver. As the man folded, Adam also caught him, lowering him gently to the concrete along with the first batch.

"You... you don’t have to do this!" A woman screamed, charging with three others.

Their weapons found Adam’s back, his legs, his arms. Each blow landed with a dull thud. He absorbed the pain, relished in it. Letting it wash through him without resistance.

It hurts. It hurts so much. But I deserve this... I deserve this.

He moved forward like someone walking through deep water—slow but unstoppable. His punches weren’t elegant, but they landed exactly where he aimed. The first attacker dropped when Adam’s fist connected with his chin. The second crumpled from a liver shot.

He knew exactly where to hit them and how much force he needed. If there was something that Adam could confidently claim, it would be the fact that he had mastered human anatomy.

The Hospital experimented on every corner of his body, after all.

With each strike, memories flickered behind Adam’s eyes. Cold metal tables. Bright lights. Masked faces. The burn of a scalpel opening his skin. The sting of needles. The raw agony of being submerged until his lungs screamed. His eyes melting. His skin being flayed open.

"Please stop," a young man begged, backing away. "We have families—"

Adam’s fist caught his chin before he could finish his words. The young man’s eyes rolled back as he slumped to the ground.

Adam continued to march, and a long trail of unconscious bodies marked his path toward the crystal. He had already hurt so many, but it felt like he was still so far away.

Once again, people blocked his path.

"Monster," someone whispered.

Adam paused, the word cutting deeper than any blade. He looked back at the people he’d left breathing but broken on the ground.

"I know," he said, "I want to stop. I really do."

But he couldn’t. The only thing he could do was move forward...forward.

Forward—until, that is, he felt someone grab him by the legs.

He thought it was someone he had knocked out at first, but when he looked, it was the children.

"S...stop it! Please!" they cried, "Stop hurting... stop hurting each other!"

He looked at them, and all he could see was Samantha. Their small hands clutched at his bloodied clothes, their faces streaked with dirt and tears. Some wore oversized shirts that hung to their knees. Others had shoes with holes. Their eyes—wide, frightened, pleading—reflected the pulsing light of the crystal.

Why do they have to suffer like this? They don’t need to, Adam. Just end their suffering, one single flick, and they would be free...unlike you.

Adam shook his head off the thoughts before crouching down. And then, with his teeth gritted and a small, desperate wince forming on his face, he punched the children on the stomach one by one, knocking them out too.

He was careful, very careful. Each strike just enough—enough force to render unconscious, not enough to damage. The children’s bodies went limp against him, their faces relaxing into something almost peaceful. The sound of their bodies hitting the ground made his stomach turn.

He glanced at Grace, quietly gesturing to her to take the children away. And she did, she rushed toward him and immediately cradled the children to her side. Samantha rushed too, crying.

"Wha—" Samantha was trying to say something, but she choked on her words, snot running down her nose.

Grace wanted to cry too, to wail. But she didn’t—she was tired of crying. Her hands trembled as she gathered the small bodies, arranging them in a row against a nearby wall. The concrete was cold against her knees.

She was making sure they were comfortable, and that they would see each other as soon as they woke up.

Adam continued forward to the crystal, and when he saw creeps still guarding it, he shook his head and said,

"Please... move."

You truly are a hypocrite, Adam. His mind once again whispered.

The blue creeps, of course, did not move. Their faces hardened, weapons raised. A woman with a scar across her cheek spat at his feet. A man with only one arm tightened his grip on a rusted pipe.

But this time, Adam finally rushed toward them—but not to attack, he only pushed them away with all of his strength before going straight for the crystal... and just punching it.