Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill Chapter 710 Poor Lord

A savage sight unfolded with the assassins' bodies torn into fragments.

Not a single one bore the black ring worn by every resident in this city.

He had learned that any evil intent would teleport the wearer beyond the city limits.

Naturally, neither Vritra nor his family donned those rings—who could guess their hidden schemes.

Since these intruders lacked the rings, they were likely truly Magna's subordinates.

'Regardless, Magna has to be the mastermind. Time to pay him a visit.'

Hurling the remains dozens of kilometers distant, Vritra soared toward Magna's residence.

He reached it in mere minutes and smashed the door open, jolting the lord awake abruptly.

Clad in nightclothes, the lord slumbered amid several women, many the maids from before.

Terrified, the women fled; Vritra paid them no heed.

"You sent those assassins after me, didn't you?" Vritra demanded, halting in front of Magna.

"W-What do you mean? I had no part in it!!" he yelled, glancing about as guards flooded toward the chamber.

Vritra erected a blood barrier around them, blocking the guards' entry.

"I hesitated before, but you've handed me justification to end you." Vritra declared, lifting his right hand where a blood sword began materializing.

"No, wait! Kill me and the bubble collapses!! All inside will perish—I swear I didn't target you, trust me!!" Tears streamed as he pleaded desperately.

"How long does the bubble endure without you?" Vritra inquired, easing the sword down.

"A few months at most, then everyone dies."

Spotting a glimmer of hope, Magna blurted it out, his heart pounding furiously.

He had witnessed Vritra's power earlier that day, so retaliation or schemes never crossed his mind.

'W-Who dared attack him? Why target me? I even said sorry, SOB!' Magna reeled in genuine bewilderment; he'd wronged Vritra in no way.

"Enough." Vritra stated, slashing his hand to sever the man's head cleanly—shock and terror frozen on his features.

Notifications flashed before Vritra's vision; he claimed Magna's ability and ascension path.

Vritra scanned The Bubble and Steal. Little detail on the bubble, but with his power, he could replicate it.

It shielded inhabitants from myriad threats, its lifespan tied to his might.

The Steal ability stunned him.

The rings siphoned every bit of mutation progress from the city's folk.

That explained his effortless gains in strength.

Countless residents stayed unawakened; even mutant flesh consumption saw progress snatched away immediately.

Yet he caused no other harm.

'In the end, his lust sealed his fate.' Vritra mused, vanishing as the blood shield dissolved.

The guards, hammering futilely at it, poured in and froze at their lord's corpse.

Tears soaked their faces as they dropped to their knees, wailing in grief over his passing.

Grief and dread consumed them—the city's doom loomed without him; what fate awaited them?

First, they must hunt the murderer and exact vengeance.

Vritra headed back to his family's lodging, but nearing it, he spotted three silhouettes outdoors.

His brow furrowed as he approached, recognizing Shitless and Monk with a third: a youth in dark garb.

The boy appeared to be an assassin.

"What's the issue?" Vritra queried upon landing gently.

"This scum tried sneaking into my room to slit my throat while I slept." Shitless spat.

Yet the youthful assassin—far less skilled than the slain ones—sobbed and implored mercy.

"Sigh, it's pointless now; your lord lies dead." Vritra stated, intending to forge a superior bubble before departing.

He owed the citizens that much; free of theft, their mutation energy would foster gradual growth.

"Huh? Impossible—you lie! No one slays Lord Asmodeus! Y-You liar, SOB, release me or he'll come for you!!" the novice assassin bellowed.

Vritra: "…"

"Ass what? Magna's alias? Explain yourself." An unwelcome suspicion stirred in Vritra's thoughts.

"Lord Asmodeus reigns supreme, far beyond that coward Magna!! For your sake, SOB, free me—he'll descend personally!!" he menaced.

"Cough. Clarify: you belong to those assassins?" Vritra pressed.

"Yeah, SOB, I trailed them stealthily. Not an assassin—just curious about this spot, SOB. Spare me or perish!" He mixed pleas with threats.

Vritra tuned out the bluster, latching onto the confirmation—they hailed from the same crew.

"So Asmodeus dispatched you, not Magna?" he probed, rubbing his cheek.

"Obviously—that timid fool wouldn't dare! Hmph, only Lord Asmodeus deserves to wipe them out! Let me live…" he tacked on, sniffling crudely.

Vritra palmed his face—had he slain the wrong man?

'Divine, what if I miss killing one or two players?' Vritra wondered; he should've queried this first.

Rage from the attack had clouded him, skipping the question pre-Magna's death.

"The more players you eliminate, the better—though reaching the tower remains priority. Five-plus kills impress; all is ideal." Divine answered.

Vritra exhaled heavily—even mercy here wouldn't ruin everything?

"Why target us, though?" Vritra questioned, shelving Magna's mishap temporarily.

"I-I won't talk! Training assassin, SOB—rip, batter, slay me; my lips stay sealed—" the youth stammered fearfully.

"Haa, Shitless, loosen his tongue." Vritra sighed wearily, his temper soured.

"Fine, poor fool, hand this wretch over." Shitless smirked, yanking off his belt.

"W-What're you gonna do?" Utter panic gripped him at the belt's removal.

Rumors of perverse torments for captured assassins flooded his mind; facing the crimson mutant, terror made him soil himself.

"I-I'll talk, I'll spill it! Halt this beast, SOB—don't let him drop trou, I'll confess all!"

He yelped in haste, dreading Shitless unveiling some vile implement.

Shitless blinked in puzzlement—he meant mere belt-whipping; why the hysteria?

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