Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill Chapter 757 The Planning of Torture

"..." Drino stared at Mole for a few seconds, then down at the spot he believed was his nose, and finally at his right arm. As the reality sank in, a profound sense of disgust bloomed in his heart, his face contorting into a peculiar expression. He stood up with outward calm and muttered, "Please grant me a moment, I shall return presently..." Even before he finished speaking, he was already a distant figure, his voice echoing as he hastily departed the grand chamber. Then, thunderous screams erupted from outside; Drino had severed his own right arm and cast it away, after which it detonated with violent force. For several minutes, the shrieks persisted from outside while all the Demi Gods exchanged bewildered glances. Some furrowed their brows, while others quietly shifted their chairs a little further from Mole. Only after the screams subsided did Drino finally re-enter the large hall. He appeared calm and collected, as if the screaming person outside had been someone else entirely. Clearing his throat once more, he stated, "My apologies for the disturbance; I had a pressing matter to attend to." "Thank the heavens, my lord, that you did not overreact," Lizzi exclaimed, dabbing sweat from his forehead. "Uh, regarding that arm of yours..." one of the Demi Gods inquired. The arm was still in the process of regrowing; the regenerative process had slowed in this area due to the various protective enchantments. "It is nothing of consequence. An insignificant insect bit me, so I had to remove it. Now, let us return to the main agenda. We shall soon be paying our respects to our acquaintance, Vritra. Our primary objective is his demise!" Drino declared, his gaze fixed upon the level 4 Demi God. "I understand. Well, you may call me Zihong, and I shall depart now. When the operation commences, I will be present," Zihong announced before vanishing. This was not his actual body, naturally, but merely a ruse of possession, a technique acquired from a newfound associate. Everyone rose to their feet as Zihong departed, offering him a respectful bow. They all harbored a strong desire to rapidly enhance their strength. However, these endeavors were exceedingly perilous, and significant gaps of years or even centuries could transpire between them. After Zihong's departure, they resumed their seats. With the addition of seven more Demi Gods, they possessed no reason for apprehension. Indeed, the atmosphere within the hall grew considerably more assured following his brief appearance. "Initially, I shall undertake the task of eliminating Vritra myself. Unlike before, I will not hold back or engage in any games. Should he resort to trickery, then all of you may intervene," Drino proclaimed. The plan was elegantly simple, though the specifics would be elaborated upon by Lizzi. A smile spread across Drino's face; these Demi Gods commanded vast armies and a multitude of formidable individuals. Therefore, they could dispatch some to cautiously gauge the situation. This time, without a doubt, Drino would eliminate the individual who had shown him such profound disrespect. The same individual who had, in fact, obliterated his physical form. 'Vritra, very soon, I will arrive to sever your head and then compel you to witness as I extinguish everyone you hold dear!!' *** In a chamber, a man of diminutive stature lay upon a bed, writhing and crying out in his sleep as if tormented by a dreadful nightmare. His skin was covered in marks, indicative of a brutal beating. The room overflowed with trophies, each more imposing and unique than the last. There were so many that they could blanket a vast expanse of several kilometers in radius. The room itself was not as expansive, of course, but techniques utilizing spatial abilities had been employed to house all the accolades. Even the floor was sparsely adorned with trophies scattered here and there. The man's cries intensified as he thrashed, tumbling from the bed with a heavy thud, striking his head against the floor. "Aghhh, my eye! Damnation, someone come here!! Uwaaaaah!!" he shrieked, having inadvertently impacted his eye against a trophy, which had then pierced through his eyeball. This was evidently not the first occurrence. A pair of maids hurried into the room, extracted the trophy, administered a peculiar potion, placed him back onto the bed, and then departed. They did, however, ensure the trophy was returned to its designated spot. Silence descended upon the room once more, yet the phantom sensation of a lash still echoed in his ears. This unfortunate individual was none other than Petophil, the legal advocate who had contested Vritra and subsequently faced punishment from Evelyn. His father was a figure of considerable importance, a man exceptionally occupied. Since his childhood, Petophil had encountered his father no more than three times, including the moment of his birth. To demonstrate his worthiness as a son, Petophil had exerted immense effort, garnering numerous awards. He had journeyed to distant lands in pursuit of knowledge, ultimately becoming the preeminent lawyer in his field, never having lost a single case. This marked his inaugural defeat, and it was so devastating that he could no longer practice in any courtroom. He had been utterly vanquished by Vritra; there was nothing he could do to Evelyn. Consequently, all his pent-up fury was directed towards a single individual. Because of him, Petophil's father had been forced to witness such an ignominious period in his son's life. His father had even abandoned him to endure days of brutal beatings in prison.

Instructing Petophil to cease addressing him as 'father' marked a definitive end to their relationship in a single day.

How could he possibly allow Vritra to continue living without consequence?

A burning desire for retribution consumed Petophil, prompting him to summon every client he had previously assisted, many of whom were esteemed Demi Gods and other influential figures.

He even contacted the leader of the Nine Pacts, a formidable individual at the 7th level of power, capable of obliterating someone like Vritra in mere moments.

Unable to find rest, Petophil resolved to commence the meeting immediately.

He swung his legs out of bed and prepared to stand—

THUD

Yet, the same trophy, with its sharp, pointed head, impaled his feet. Petophil cried out in agony, collapsing back down.

...

Ten minutes later, Petophil found himself seated in a private chamber.

Only a handful of maids, each hailing from different races and possessing striking beauty in his eyes, were present.

They served him a meal, and soon, he established connections with several influential individuals.

Silhouettes materialized in the chairs before him, remaining in silent anticipation for the renowned former lawyer, Petophil, to initiate the discussion.

"As you are all aware, an individual dared to defy me and employ underhanded tactics. The objective is straightforward: I desire his swift demise."

Petophil declared, his gaze sweeping across the figures, all of whom commanded the leadership of significant organizations.

"Sir Petophil, that is a minor affair. I alone can resolve this," the head of the Nine Pacts stated with unwavering confidence.

Given his immense power, a mere opponent at the 3rd level would present no challenge; dispatching a few subordinates would suffice for their elimination.

"No, no. I do not merely wish for his death," Petophil interjected, sowing confusion among them before a grin spread across his face.

"I want Vritra to suffer. Therefore, instead of a quick end, I want you to continuously harass him. Send powerful Demi Gods to make his existence a living hell. I expect all of you to personally oversee this mission, deploying your most skilled and troublesome operatives. Once I have thoroughly enjoyed this torment, then we may proceed with his execution," Petophil elaborated, his smile widening.

The mere thought of that man's suffering filled him with immense pleasure.

"Haha, Sir Petophil, I did not anticipate such pettiness and sadism from you, but this is certainly achievable. We all have ample opportunity to torment that young man. Rest assured, leave this matter to us."

The leader of the Nine Pacts proclaimed, and the others readily concurred.

Numerous other Demi Gods were eager to undertake this task to curry favor with Petophil, whose father served a higher entity.

Furthermore, Petophil himself possessed considerable capabilities.

After relaying a few more directives, he dismissed them and decided to attempt sleep once more.

As he returned to his room, Petophil wore an expansive grin, chuckling with a touch of peculiarity.

Very soon, he would reclaim his former standing and the respect he had lost. He would recover it all.

And he would finally prove to his father that he was indeed his son.

***

While others schemed his demise or torture, Vritra was focused on cultivating a period of tranquility, hoping to savor this peace for a while.

He sat within the House of Darkness, absorbing the potent energy emanated from the surrounding orbs.

Ultimately, after a slightly longer duration than anticipated, the nine of them concluded their arduous endeavor.

Each had successfully ascended to the 3rd level of Demi Gods, experiencing a dramatic surge in their individual strengths.

Vritra felt as though he could annihilate the entire continent with but a few forceful blows.

This sensation was profoundly gratifying, yet, owing to 'Shitless's' earlier pronouncements, Vritra remained far from content.

He urgently needed to augment his power, but the games could prove lengthy and, even then, exceedingly difficult.

Therefore, that particular avenue could not be pursued for rapid strength enhancement.

Currently, only Divine could offer assistance in this regard, and even that ally would soon depart.

Vritra let out a sigh as he opened his eyes, surveying his companions. The auras surrounding them had grown remarkably potent.

The very atmosphere within the hall felt denser, heavy with the weight of their amplified power.

However, what truly surprised him was Shitless; no discernible energy emanated from him. Instead, his physical form had undergone a significant improvement.

His entire being had transformed, his body now gleaming like polished metal even in its natural state, with his bald head radiating a particular luster.

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Thank you for reading... farewell