My SSS-Rank Clone Talent: I Level Up Endlessly!-Chapter 106: Torture!?

The other disciple stood frozen, his jealous gaze shifting to horror. He immediately fell to his knees.

"I am sorry, master."

"What are you sorry for?" the hunched master asked coldly.

"Umm?" The disciple was momentarily stunned, struggling to find coherent words. "He is a sinner who dared to speak out against what the master wanted. He is the foolest of disciples."

With that, the disciple began banging his head on the ground, again and again.

The hunched master didn’t respond. He turned toward the group, raised his finger, and with a swift motion, the group was lifted into the air.

Without another word, he turned and walked away.

The disciple continued banging his head for a solid ten minutes before finally stopping.

"This psycho," he murmured in his heart. He looked at the children, casually whipping a few of them at random, then prepared to leave.

Suddenly, he felt a hand tighten around his legs.

Immediately, fear gripped him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

But when he looked down at the small hand holding onto him, he sighed in relief.

"Oh, this is the kid that senior brother whipped."

With a disdainful grunt, he kicked the child hard, aiming for their neck.

The child raised his face, accepting the blow without hesitation.

Blood dripped from the child’s forehead, and though injured, the child only giggled in a mocking tone, almost as if possessed by a ghost.

"Hehe."

The disciple’s expression shifted. His hand flew to his sword at his waist, drawing it with a swift motion and slashing forward.

However, before the sword could land, a searing pain shot through his legs. He lost his balance, crashing to the ground.

"Eh?" The disciple was stunned. He tried to push himself up with his hands, but he couldn’t feel his legs.

"Huh."

His neck strained as he looked down in disbelief with realisation.

There it was, his legs had been severed.

Blood poured from the stumps, pooling around him on the ground.

And the perpetrator, the child, looked at him with coldness in his eyes, a black haze forming in the shape of a sword in his hand.

"Who... Who are you?" the disciple gasped, terror evident in his voice.

"I am the child you just whipped," the child replied, tilting his head, his eyes seemingly innocent.

"You... you are not that child."

The disciple gritted his teeth, fumbling in his pocket to retrieve a bell. He was about to ring it when—

Shing!

In an instant, a flash of light cut through the air, and the bell was sliced cleanly in two.

"Noooo..." The disciple cried out in horror, the last flicker of hope fading from his eyes.

And then, his screams echoed, filled with desperate terror and helplessness.

The child rubbed his ears:

"What are you screaming for?"

The sword swung again, slicing through the disciple’s teeth and tongue in an instant.

Blood gushed from his mouth, his lips stained with crimson.

The disciple’s vision blurred. With his tongue cut, he couldn’t even scream. His surroundings grew hazy as his consciousness began to fade.

But then, a sickening crack echoed through the air.

The disciple’s eyes widened in horror as he realized his legs were being crushed beneath someone’s weight. Despite being a martial artist, tears welled up in his eyes.

The pain was too overwhelming.

"Hehe, don’t think for a second that you’ll get an easy death." The child spoke with an evil grin.

The disciple’s eyes widened to their absolute limits.

In his gaze, there was no longer a child in front of him, but a devil straight from the depths of hell.

Terrifying, muffled screams erupted from the disciple as every bone in his body was slowly crushed.

"Do you feel the pain?"

Suddenly, the child asked, reigniting a flicker of hope in the disciple, who hurriedly nodded his head.

"Didn’t they feel the same when you whipped them?" The child gestured to the crowd gathered around, their eerie gazes all locked on the disciple.

"!@@#!@." The disciple cried out desperately, pleading for mercy.

Unfortunately, the child showed no mercy as he brutally tortured the disciple to death, eventually severing his head.

"Sigh, I hope this body has avenged him."

Eryke the Third sighed.

Of course, the child’s body had been taken over by him just as the child breathed his last.

When possessing a body, Eryke had to first remove the will of the creature. However, since the child had died, the process was much easier for him.

"The condition is that the creature should be far weaker than me, the body shouldn’t have died too long ago, and there should be no lingering resentment towards me," Eryke the Third muttered to himself.

He raised his small hand and gazed at it thoughtfully for a moment.

Then, he looked around at the crowd.

"Do you want freedom?"

Silence.

The oppressive atmosphere hung thick in the air.

These poor children had been so crushed by oppression that they no longer even dared to lift their heads.

’It’s not their fault,’ Eryke the Third sighed inwardly.

"Do you want to live here?" he asked slowly, "In a place where you must constantly fear for your life and barely have enough to eat?"

The dimness in the children’s eyes slowly began to brighten. Although they had yet to see the world outside, having suffered in this cruel, brutal environment, only the most ruthless of the ruthless had survived until now.

They already carried a sense of maturity beyond their years.

"If you follow me, I’ll give you the chance to kill that old bastard and set yourselves free," Eryke the Third continued slowly. "So, are you willing to follow me?"

Still, there was no response.

"Oh well."

Eryke the Third sighed, turning his gaze toward the place where the hunched man had taken Hak Soo and the others.

"Please wait for me a little longer."

With that, he walked back to the statue and quickly climbed to eye level.

Meanwhile, the others remained hesitant, their lives very well depended on this choice.