My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 155 155: A Little Night of Violence

I stepped back, and Steve finally released his grip on King. His body crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, coughing and groaning.

I turned my head slowly, eyes scanning the crowd. Their expressions were scattered, shock, discomfort, confusion.

But I also caught clenched jaws, narrowed eyes—some people knew. They knew what the Holt family stood for. And those people didnʼt look angry at me. They looked like they wanted to throw a few punches themselves.

Still, a few others glanced at me like Iʼd gone too far.

I didnʼt care.

I stretched my perception wide, just to be sure. My senses combed the area and I sighed in relief when I confirmed North wasnʼt nearby. I didnʼt want her to see this part of me.

I met Steveʼs eyes and gave a small nod. He nodded back.

Without another word, I grabbed King by the collar and hoisted him up like a sack of grain. His body slumped over my shoulder, too dazed to struggle. Steve yanked Michael up the same way and turned to the crowd.

”Do not follow us,” he said, calm but cold.

Then we slipped into the night.

We reached a secluded patch in the woods just beyond the edge of the training zone. The trees here were tall, the shadows deep.

Steve dropped Michael unceremoniously against a tree trunk while I slammed King to the ground with a thud. He groaned, still dizzy from the earlier beating.

I pulled out a set of training cords and tied Kingʼs wrists around the tree trunk behind him. Steve did the same with Michael. Both were seated with their backs pressed to the rough bark, bound tight, ankles secured to the roots.

Michael whimpered, still struggling to breathe. King, though, he was furious.

”You bastards think this is funny?!” he spat. ”You have no idea what youʼre doing! Iʼll give you more than just death, I swear on my name—”

I punched him before he could finish. A hard jab to the ribs. He let out a breathless cry, followed by more swearing.

”What is the Holt family planning?” I asked flatly, pretending to care. ”Come on. Spill something useful.”

He glared at me. ”Go to hell.”

I smiled and punched him in the stomach again. Steve took his turn, slapping Michaelʼs face lightly at first, then a hard backhand.

”Still nothing?” Steve said with mock surprise. ”Wow. These guys are tight-lipped. Makes you wonder what theyʼre hiding.”

Michael whined something unintelligible.

King bared his teeth.

”When my family hears about this, theyʼll erase your bloodlines. Youʼll wish you died on the battlefield.”

Another punch. I went for the jaw this time. His head snapped sideways.

”You know,” I said, crouching down to his level, ”it almost sounds like youʼre about to cry.”

He spat blood at my feet. ”Youʼre dead. Youʼre already dead. Iʼm going to make sure your—”

Another hit. Steve chuckled.

We werenʼt here for answers. Not really.

We just wanted to piss this guy off. That was the whole point.

For the next half hour, I kept beating him, nothing elegant, nothing restrained. Just fists to his face, gut, ribs, anywhere that would hurt. I wasnʼt even angry anymore. Just focused. Mechanical. I only stopped when his body slumped and he passed out.

Exhaling heavily, I dropped onto the cold ground and leaned back against the tree. I looked over at Michael. He was already out cold, face swollen, tied to a tree a few feet from King.

Steve stood nearby, wiping the blood off his hands with a cloth heʼd ripped from Michaelʼs uniform.

I shook my head and muttered, ”Itʼs way better fighting abominations than doing this crap.”

Steve gave a short nod, his expression unreadable. ”At least abominations fight back. These two? Way too soft. No challenge.”

He sat down beside me, and for a while, we just sat there in silence, letting our hearts slow and our thoughts settle.

Eventually, I stood and walked over to King.

His eyelids fluttered. I grabbed a bottle of water, splashed it on his face, then gave him a light slap across the cheek.

”Wake up, your highness.”

His eyes shot open, groggy and bloodshot. I crouched in front of him, elbows on my knees, and smiled.

”Letʼs play a game, King. You tell me something useful, and I donʼt break another rib.”

He growled, spit blood to the side, and glared at me.

”You think this changes anything? Iʼll kill you myself. My family will skin you alive.”

I chuckled.

”You keep saying that. But Iʼm the one standing. Youʼre the one tied to a tree.”

I leaned in close, my tone more serious now.

”What is your family really planning? Why are the Holts acting against the Empire? Why are you so fixated on the Throne War? Why canʼt you just get along with the Rayleigh family?”

His mouth twitched, either from pain or rage, I couldnʼt tell.

I kept going.

”Whoʼs this Phantom that wiped out Unit 77? Donʼt play dumb. You knew something. I saw your face when Arkas announced it.”

I was just spewing nonsense at this point.

He started cursing again, wild threats pouring from his mouth, promises of death, dismemberment, disgrace.

Steve laughed behind me. ”Heʼs running out of curse words.”

I stood up and stretched. ”Fine. If you donʼt want to talk, weʼll keep playing.”

I walked over, picked up my staff, and twirled it in my hand.

”Iʼve got time. Youʼve got bones. Letʼs see which lasts longer.”

*****

We kept up our little ”friendly” banter with King and Michael for another three or four hours, deep into the night.

It wasnʼt really about questions anymore, we were just messing with them, throwing in a few insults, tossing a punch here and there, keeping the pressure on until their pride bled out.

Finally, when we both felt like we had done enough, we stood up and untied them. We didnʼt say anything. Just left them there, bruised and broken, lying against the tree like discarded trash.

Then we turned and sprinted back toward the residential block, sticking to the shadows and keeping low. The night air was cool against my skin. I felt… clearer, somehow.

While we were running, I glanced over at Steve and asked, ”Arkas said weʼve got three days, right? What do you plan to do next?”

He didnʼt miss a step as he replied, ”Iʼm going to level up as much as I can. Thereʼs this one skill Iʼve been working on, I think Iʼm close to unlocking it. Thatʼll be my focus.”

I nodded. ”Makes sense.”

Then he looked over at me. ”What about you?”

I shrugged. ”Iʼve got some ideas. Not sure if Iʼll go through with all of them, but I think Iʼll spend most of my time refining the stuff I already know. Clean it up. Make it sharper.”

We didnʼt say much after that.

My thoughts drifted to the Null Heart.

That thing was still untested. I had been considering whether I should push myself to at least create one soul shackle, just one. Who knew? It might come in handy for the new mission.

I hadnʼt told anyone about it yet, and I didnʼt plan to.

Not unless I had to. But part of me wondered how the new function would actually take shape.

Would I even be able to hide it once it activated? From the way it felt, the power buried inside that thing wasnʼt small.

I just hoped it would be something that will become a trump card.