God-Tier Extraction Talent: Reincarnated in a Game-like World! Chapter 521: The Dojo

These assassins were seasoned killers, men and women who had survived by instilling fear for years. But in that instant, all of them seemed like helpless prey facing an unfathomable force they couldn't comprehend, let alone challenge.

Johnny's corpse had already collapsed, yet the shock lingered on his face. His eyes stayed half-open, and even in death, it was clear he never imagined dying so fast.

The man closest to the wall let his sword slip from his grasp. The blade clanged lightly against the floor, echoing too loudly through the hall.

A woman staggered backward, throwing up both hands. "Wait," she gasped, her breaths ragged. "We surrender."

That shattered the dam.

Weapons clattered to the stone one by one as more backed away from Gabriel, flattening themselves against the walls. Some bowed their heads low. Others gaped at him, faces ashen, lips quivering.

A man bearing a gash on his cheek gulped hard and stammered with trembling lips. "Please spare us. We will leave. We will change. I swear we will not kill anyone again."

Another bobbed his head frantically, as if it hurt. "He is right. We will disappear. We will not touch players. We will not touch anyone. Just let us go."

Gabriel regarded them impassively.

Fresh blood trickled from his sword edges, pattering onto the floor amid them. The air reeked of iron, dust, and rising warmth from the depths below.

"I will give you a choice," Gabriel stated evenly.

Hope flickered in their eyes at those words, only for despair to cloud their faces moments later.

"Kill yourselves," he commanded. "Or I do it myself."

Several recoiled as if slapped by the brutal ultimatum.

The earlier woman gawked at him, incredulous. "You cannot be serious."

Gabriel's expression stayed stone-cold. He meant every word.

A man at the back muttered a curse and clenched his dagger harder, yet kept it lowered. Inside, terror and fury churned. He had pleaded. He had disarmed. Still, this beast demanded his life.

The same bitter realization hit another, breeding instant loathing for Gabriel. If doom awaited regardless, his pleas had only shamed him pointlessly.

No one budged. Self-slaughter proved far harder than murdering foes. Their grips shook, but none dared turn steel on themselves.

Gabriel started counting abruptly.

"Three."

"Huh, why is he counting?"

"This bastard, he is really serious!"

"Two."

One man raised his dagger halfway, arm quaking uncontrollably. He couldn't follow through.

"One."

"Go to hell," a woman snarled through tears. "You think you are better than us?"

"Zero," Gabriel finished.

The moment he spoke, carnage erupted anew.

Gabriel surged ahead in a blur. The first man's chest burst open before he registered the countdown's end. A follow-up stroke ripped the neighboring woman from gut to throat, hurling her corpse into the wall.

A third killer bolted toward a side passage. Gabriel's blade gleamed once, slicing him shoulder to hip. The halves separated as they crumpled to the ground.

The survivors snapped completely. Their final inhibitions vanished. Some howled and charged wildly. Others scrambled to escape. One knelt, shielding his head, only for Gabriel's sword to pierce straight through into the stone floor.

Blood surged across the hall in rapid splashes. The ground grew slippery. Corpses thudded down successively as subterranean heat mingled with the stench of new slaughter rising through the passage.

One killer hurled three concealed daggers.

Gabriel twisted his shoulder, dodging two, snatching the third mid-air, and jamming it into the thrower's eye. Before that body hit, he vaulted past, felling the pair behind.

A woman wielding twin hooks sprang from the left wall.

Clang.

His sword clashed with hers once, splintering both arms. The backswing severed her elbows clean. A brutal kick to her torso smashed her into the stone, crumpling her form before she slumped down.

Another slithered away amid the gore.

Gabriel pinned his neck underfoot and finished with a precise stab.

Once the final body stilled, silence finally claimed the hallway.

Blood coated everything. It seeped into stone fissures. It pooled darkly by the walls. It swirled around Johnny's severed head, blending with the pile until the torchlit floor gleamed nearly black.

Gabriel stood amid the carnage, scanning the scene once.

Beside Johnny's body, the slender blade rested where it fell. He stooped, retrieved it, and twirled it deftly in his fingers.

The sword proved lighter than anticipated. Far too light and slender. With two quick swings, he tested its balance and the manner in which it sliced through the air.

"It is annoying to use," he muttered.

Even for him, proper control over it remained challenging. The blade called for a technique prioritizing precision above raw power, a method alien to his nature.

He stored it nonetheless. Someone he knew could wield this sword with exceptional skill.

Afterward, he kept advancing. His boots produced soft splashes in the blood, while his steps reverberated along the deeper corridor. The wall torches flickered dimly here, their glow wavering faintly as though stirred by the rising heat from below.

The heat intensified the deeper he ventured.

Gabriel perceived it sharply, yet handled it with ease. Still, he understood that frailer folks would falter quickly in this base segment.

To guide his path, he extended his senses. It wasn't long before he detected an oddity, prompting a slight furrow on his brow.

Something below defied his expectations. Without a word or pause, his vigilance heightened as he plunged further in.

Soon after, Gabriel arrived at the base's profoundest depths. The tunnel terminated in a vast dojo crafted in ancient Japanese fashion. Blazing torches bordered the walls, and the scorching atmosphere there eclipsed all levels above, like standing within a searing kiln.

At the dojo's core, a massive man sat cross-legged in lotus position.