Villain Origin : Every Crime I Commit Helps Me Level Up-Chapter 37: Old Wounds

The menacing laughter grew louder as a figure emerged from the shadows. Drake stepped into the light, his face contorted in a grotesque smile that stretched unnaturally wide across his pale face. His eyes glinted with a manic energy that seemed to flicker between amusement and murderous intent with each passing second.

"Nice job defeating Victor," Drake said, clapping his hands slowly in mock applause. His voice carried a sing-song quality that made André’s skin crawl. "I didn’t really like him. He was too proud."

Drake’s laughter erupted again, echoing through the warehouse like breaking glass. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, leaving it standing at odd angles.

"I love when people are a little bit fun and joking," he continued, his smile growing impossibly wider. Each word dripped with the same unhinged energy that André remembered from the alley—the same laugh that had played in his nightmares as his sister’s blood pooled around him.

André didn’t waste a fraction of time. Rage consumed him like wildfire, burning through rational thought and strategy.

[SYSTEM ALERT: DO NOT ENGAGE]

The warning flashed across his vision, urgent and red. The system had never issued such an alert before.

André ignored it.

Nortic End activated instantly, his palm glowing with an intensity that far surpassed what he’d used against Victor. The purple energy crackled and pulsed as André launched himself forward, a primal scream tearing from his throat.

His hand thrust directly toward Drake’s chest—and passed straight through as if striking smoke.

André hung suspended in disbelief, his body carried forward by momentum, his arm still embedded up to the elbow in Drake’s spectral form. The force of his attack rippled through the air behind Drake, creating a visible wave that cracked the concrete wall forty feet away. The blow would have obliterated any normal opponent, yet it had affected Drake no more than a gentle breeze.

"What the hell?" André gasped, staring at his hand in shock. The Nortic End had dissipated uselessly, its energy scattered.

Drake threw his head back, laughing uproariously while placing one hand on his waist and the other dramatically against his face, fingers splayed across his forehead like an actor in a theatrical performance. He seemed to be reveling in André’s confusion and growing dread, his body shaking with uncontrolled mirth.

Then, with disturbing suddenness, he stopped. His head snapped down, eyes locking onto André with a predatory intensity, though his hand remained positioned at his waist in a casual pose that contrasted eerily with his murderous gaze.

"Have we met before?" Drake asked, his voice suddenly cold. He tilted his head at an uncomfortable angle, studying André with narrowed eyes. The deadly intent radiating from him was so palpable, so toxic, that it seemed to thicken the air between them.

"Because the deadly intent is so toxic right now," Drake continued, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried throughout the entire warehouse. "It might shock a normal human being to death."

His eyes never left André’s, unblinking and unnervingly focused. "I don’t like people who hate me... I should kill you right now."

Total silence fell over the warehouse. André could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears, could feel each breath scraping through his lungs as Drake’s gaze seemed to pierce through his soul. The moment stretched on, the tension building to an unbearable pitch. André’s arm remained awkwardly thrust through Drake’s chest, trapped in the impossible physics of the encounter.

Then, just as suddenly as it had vanished, Drake’s manic grin returned. He erupted into another fit of laughter, slapping his thigh with the hand that had been on his face, while the other remained casually positioned at his waist.

"Just joking!" he wheezed between bursts of laughter. "I’m just here for Victor and that’s all."

Without warning, Drake leaped backward, releasing André’s arm from its spectral imprisonment. The sudden freedom caused André to stumble forward, nearly losing his balance as his arm swung through empty air. Drake moved with inhuman speed, appearing instantly beside Victor’s unconscious form.

"Are you going to take him away and get him some treatment?" André called out, taking a fighting stance despite his previous failure. "If that’s what you’re going to do, I’m not allowing you to leave with him."

Drake turned slowly, his smile never faltering. "You should learn to mind your own business, kid." His expression shifted to something almost contemplative. "But on the contrary, I’m here to do the opposite."

With a casual gesture, Drake manifested a gun in his hand—not drawing it from a holster or pocket, but seemingly creating it from the shadows themselves. Before André could react, Drake pointed the weapon at Victor’s head and fired.

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse as Victor’s head jerked once, a spray of crimson misting the concrete floor. André stood dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open in shock. He’d fought so hard to defeat Victor, only to watch Drake execute him with casual indifference.

Drake’s laughter resumed, the same maniacal sound that had haunted André since that night in the alley when Iris had lain motionless, her eyes vacant, as Alex rested his head on her lap. The sound triggered something deep inside him—a renewed surge of rage that overwhelmed all other considerations.

With a roar, André lunged again, blind with fury. This time, Drake simply melted into the shadows, reappearing instantly behind André.

"I told you to watch that anger of yours," Drake whispered directly into André’s ear, his breath unnaturally cold. "I might inadvertently kill you if you keep charging at me like that," before softening his voice. "But don’t worry, I won’t. However, the boss... he might just recruit you as one of his top five."

André spun around, striking at nothing but air.

"You got yourself a fan kid," Drake’s voice resonated from everywhere and nowhere, before he vanished without a trace.

His laughter lingered as his presence faded, the sound gradually diminishing until only silence remained. André stood alone amidst the aftermath of battle, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails drew blood from his palms. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

’I’ll find you,’ André promised silently. ’No matter how long it takes, I’ll make you pay for what you did to Iris.’

Meanwhile, Zaria and Ken stood rigid, facing the ninja that had materialized before them. Ken positioned himself slightly ahead of Zaria, his lean frame tense and alert as he drew his gun.

"What the hell is this thing?" Ken muttered, shifting his weight nervously as his finger tensed on the trigger.

The ninja didn’t speak, its amber eyes glowing faintly behind the mask as it assessed them. Without warning, it rushed forward with impossible speed, drawing a sword in fluid motion.

Ken fired three rapid shots, the sound thundering through their corner of the warehouse. The ninja’s blade moved in a silver arc, intercepting each bullet with precision that defied human capability. The deflected rounds pinged against nearby metal crates, leaving dents in the thick steel.

"Shit!" Ken exclaimed, his eyes widening.

Zaria pulled her own weapon and began firing, moving in a wide arc to flank the intruder. "Keep it distracted!" she shouted to Ken.

The ninja moved like liquid shadow, its body seeming to flow rather than run as it evaded their coordinated attack. Ken fired until his magazine emptied, then performed a combat roll to his right while ejecting the spent magazine. With practiced precision, he slammed a fresh clip into place mid-roll, rising to one knee as he resumed firing in a single fluid motion.

"Is that the best you can do?" Ken taunted, hoping to keep the ninja’s attention on him rather than Zaria.

The ninja’s blade continued deflecting bullets, each movement calculated and efficient. It advanced steadily toward Ken, closing the distance despite the continuous barrage. Ken’s expression hardened as he realized his bullets were having no effect.

When the ninja was just ten feet away, it suddenly accelerated, becoming almost a blur. Ken dodged the first slash, the blade passing so close to his face that he felt the displacement of air. The second attack came faster, forcing him to throw himself backward. As he regained his footing, the ninja spun into a vicious roundhouse kick that connected squarely with Ken’s jaw.

The impact lifted Ken off his feet, sending him crashing into a stack of empty containers. He lay stunned, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Zaria’s gun clicked empty just as the ninja turned its attention to her. She frantically searched her pockets for another magazine, finding none. "Damn it!"

The ninja stalked toward her with predatory grace. Zaria backed away, stumbling over debris as she retreated. Her heel caught on an uneven section of concrete, sending her sprawling backward. She scrambled to regain her footing, but the ninja closed the distance with frightening speed.

Panic seized her as the ninja loomed above her, its sword raised for a killing blow. "ANDRÉ!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation.

A gunshot rang out, and the ninja’s body jerked as a bullet tore through its torso. It paused, turning slowly to face the source of the attack.

Julian stood thirty feet away, one of Ken’s twin pistols trembling in his inexperienced hands — the same gun he’d grabbed from the floor moments after it slipped from Ken’s grasp.

His face was pale, sweat beading on his forehead as he stared in horror at what he’d done. It was clear from his shaking hands and wide eyes that this was the first time he’d ever fired a weapon.

The ninja looked down at the hole in its chest with what almost seemed like curiosity. As they watched in disbelief, the wound closed itself, dark tissue knitting together until no trace of the injury remained.

"What the actual fuck?" Julian whispered, the gun nearly slipping from his sweat-slicked grip.

Zaria’s mouth hung open in shock. "That’s—that’s not possible."

The ninja tilted its head, studying Julian for a long moment. Something unreadable passed through its amber eyes. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it dissolved back into the shadows, leaving no trace of its presence except for the lingering fear in the air.

Julian sank to his knees, the gun clattering to the floor. "What was that thing?" he asked, his voice barely audible. "It just... healed itself. Like it wasn’t even human."