After Transmigrating, I Raised Cubs in the Insectoid Clan - Chapter 33

A weak smile played on the corners of Samuel’s lips. He coughed a few times, and blood overflowed from his mouth, sliding down his jawline to leave shocking red streaks against his pale neck.

“Mr. Boernther,” his voice was so soft it was nearly inaudible, but his eyes were terrifyingly bright. He stared at Boernther and said slowly, “Then you should also know.”

His fingers curled loosely around the silver reagent, his knuckles turning white from the effort. “Refusing you is also a very simple matter.”

Before his voice even faded, a blinding silver light suddenly erupted from his palm. The reagent tube vibrated violently within the glow, its surface rapidly filling with a web of cracks.

With a sharp snap, the tube shattered into countless fragments in Samuel’s hand. Sharp glass shards drove deep into his flesh, and blood welled up through his fingers.

Samuel had exhausted the last remnants of his mental power. He was now completely without any means of retaliation. Death seemed to be his predetermined fate.

He slid down the doorframe, sitting helplessly on the floor. His face was as white as paper in the firelight. His breathing was weak and erratic, yet he stubbornly kept his eyes open, his dark pupils reflecting the raging flames from the second floor.

Boernther watched him quietly, the regret on his face so genuine it was almost cruel. “What a pity.”

He sighed softly and leaned down, his fingertips brushing over Samuel’s blood-soaked chest. “I originally had high hopes for you.”

Thick smoke rolled like giant waves, swallowing every inch of air. Samuel’s lungs felt as if they were burning; every breath felt like inhaling red-hot blades. The tears forced out by the smoke washed pale trails through the blood and grime on his face. His vision began to blur, and the firelight distorted into flickering ghostly shadows.

Boernther stood calmly amidst the dark gray smoke. The haze swirled around him but dared not touch him. In the silence, the distant sound of police sirens was exceptionally piercing.

“Look, the police are about to arrive. Where is the lover for whom you are giving your life?” Boernther raised his silver gun, a mocking smile appearing on his face. “He is at a banquet, chatting about trivial topics with those hypocritical old foxes. And you? You are about to die for him. Do you not find it worthless? Do you not find it ridiculous? Do you not feel angry?”

Boernther’s face twisted for a moment in the firelight, his eyes surging with a near-frenzied rage. Looking at Samuel, who was practically a man of blood, he seemed to return to that dark, whistling night five years ago. Last time, he was a bystander; this time, he was the executioner.

Samuel struggled to breathe. He looked up at the man holding the gun and said slowly, “He did not kill Salen. He never did those things you said. Even if he did, it was not the way you described it.”

Blood foam bubbled from his mouth and flowed down, merging with the crimson stain on his chest. “He said he would protect my safety with his life.”

“Ha!” Boernther let out a short, cold laugh. The muzzle of the gun trembled slightly. “Then where is he?”

Samuel’s fingertips moved as if trying to grasp something. His voice grew lighter. “He just has not returned yet.”

A violent fit of coughing interrupted him, spraying blood onto the floor. Boernther looked at the bloodstain, his expression suddenly becoming complex. “Stupid fellow, just like Boernther. Stupid!”

The moment the gunshot exploded, the kitchen window shattered. A silver figure burst through the window at incredible speed, shielding Samuel at the critical moment. The distance was too short, and the bullet was unavoidable. Suter took the hit directly with his body.

Simultaneously, the silver insect wings on his back vibrated at high frequency, letting out a sharp hum. Like a precision cutting machine, they severed Boernther’s right arm at the elbow.

The moment Samuel heard the sound, he turned his head, only to be enveloped in a soft, silver light. For a moment, he could see nothing but the silver wings shimmering brilliantly in the firelight, like stars scattered across the sky. He caught a scent that made him feel safe, and his tense body finally relaxed.

“I am sorry I am late,” Suter whispered.

The words echoed softly in Samuel’s fading consciousness. He wanted to respond, to raise a heavy arm and touch the face so close to him. He wanted to feel Suter’s warmth or simply tell him it was okay. But he had no strength left.

Samuel felt his eyelids becoming heavier, like feathers soaked in water. He stopped resisting and allowed the darkness to gently wash over his vision. At the last moment before his consciousness vanished, he heard the clear wail of sirens and a trembling breath right beside him.

Boernther watched the scene with interest. At the stump of his severed elbow, countless silver threads writhed and intertwined like living things. The fine, blood-colored fibers multiplied at a visible rate, outlining the shape of an arm until it was fully restored, as if it had never been injured.

“You want to save his life?” Boernther moved his new arm slowly, the joints making a slight humming sound. “I am afraid it is not that simple.”

He wrinkled his brow in an exaggerated fashion, sighed pretentiously, then suddenly smiled with a cunning light in his eyes. “However, if you trade your life for his, I might consider it.”

“Is that so?” Suter sneered.

Before the words were fully out, the doors and windows of the entire house exploded simultaneously. Fully armed police and special forces poured in like a tide, the strong beams of tactical flashlights illuminating every corner. Well-trained soldiers quickly formed a perimeter, trapping Boernther in the center.

Boernther slowly raised his hands above his head, wearing a meaningful smile. He tapped his temple lightly, a dangerous light flashing in his eyes. “I suggest you look around, General.”

As the thick smoke cleared, a strange silence fell over the scene. The police officers who had surrounded Boernther now turned their guns with stiff movements. Their eyes were hollow, and their weapons were all aimed at Suter.

Boernther lowered his arms and adjusted his sleeves. “It seems the situation has changed. Now, should we renegotiate the terms?”

His voice was polite, yet it made the temperature in the room plummet. The controlled officers held their firing positions, fingers on the triggers, ready to fire at any moment.

Suter stood in the pool of blood, his silver wings wrapping Samuel tightly. The person in his arms was as pale as paper, his body trembling uncontrollably, his breathing nearly imperceptible. Every faint breath felt like a knife carving into Suter’s heart.

His voice carried a lethal chill. “Boernther, I will give those same words back to you. I saw this trick when I was a child. Did you really think I did not know?”

Suter walked forward slowly, his military boots making a sticky sound in the blood. Each step was accompanied by a horrifying explosion.

Bang! The head of one officer suddenly exploded, black blood splashing onto the wall like ink.

Bang! A hole the size of a bowl appeared in another officer’s chest, fragments of internal organs hanging from a charred uniform.

Boernther’s pupils shrank as he watched the “officers” fall one by one. Their corpses twitched eerily on the ground, and the skin on their faces peeled away like melting wax, revealing their true, grayish-blue faces underneath.

“This is impossible! Such a perfect plan, how could it be?” Boernther instinctively reached for his waist but found nothing.

“Looking for this?”

The only officer still standing spoke, playing with a miniature detonator between long fingers. His movements were as elegant as a magic performance. With a flick of his fingers, he produced an ice-blue reagent. “Or perhaps this?”

Under Boernther’s panicked gaze, the man sliced his jawline with a fingernail and slowly peeled off the human skin mask. Under the messy blond hair, Terand tilted his head with a light smile. “Good evening, Lord Boernther.”

In the darkness, only the faint blue light of the reagent remained, illuminating Boernther’s pale face.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A burst of dense gunfire erupted outside, followed by the sound of glass shattering. But within a few seconds, everything returned to silence, as if the commotion were merely an illusion.

Slade’s deep, cold voice cut through the darkness. “Kill anyone who resists.”

The dust had finally settled.

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