Heavenly Unbound [A LitRPG System Survival]

Sam traveled east with Michael and Eddie, the three of them moving with purpose. Ann and the others had stayed behind to guard the camp, waiting for Sam to deal with the scumbags blocking the portal. The knowledge of their existence so early in the tutorial was a stroke of luck—if they had remained unchecked, countless people would have suffered under their control.

As they walked, Michael broke the silence. "What are you planning to do with the people they forced to submit? If you kill them all, we're talking about thousands. That's a lot of blood, even for you."

Sam frowned, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he considered the question. "Maybe we start by taking out the leader," he suggested.

Eddie chimed in, his tone cautious. "But if the leader dies, won't the lackeys start killing the hostages out of panic or revenge?"

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This is a headache. What a shitty situation. I'll try to handle it in a way that minimizes casualties—hostages included. We can't let them get caught in the crossfire."

Michael glanced at him. "If we had a skill to put everyone to sleep, that'd solve the problem. No stray bullets, no needless deaths."

Sam chuckled dryly, though his eyes were still sharp. "Let's save that idea for another time. I don't think this will be the last time we run into a mess like this. People are cruel, and they never seem to learn their lesson."

Their conversation drifted into silence as they continued through the dense forest. Minutes later, they crested a small hill and stopped abruptly.

In the distance, a wooden wall loomed, reinforced with sharp stakes and makeshift barriers. Figures moved along the perimeter, holding rifles and scanning their surroundings.

Sam narrowed his eyes and activated his skill to inspect them.

[Human: level 11] - [Fighter], [Enemy], [Lawful Evil].

Sam smiled faintly, his Heavenly Eyes working exactly as he had hoped. By filtering out unnecessary details, he could now distinguish between friend and foe with ease. With a focused effort, he pushed more power into the skill, extending his vision beyond the wooden walls.

What he saw inside made his blood boil. The urge to rush in and tear them apart surged within him, but he forced himself to hold back. His priority wasn't revenge—it was finding the hostages.

Scanning the camp, he finally located the captives. His expression darkened. There were only 20 hostages alive. The rest—over 300—were already dead, their bodies discarded carelessly like garbage.

Sam's mind raced. If so many have already been killed, why are the ones forced to work with the criminals still staying? Is it just survival instincts?

Suppressing his rising anger, he turned to Michael and relayed everything he had seen.

Michael's face twisted with disgust. "This is... so fucked up," he said, his voice heavy. He shook his head, clearly struggling to process the horror of it all. "There's no clean way out of this, is there?"

Sam exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. He hated what he was about to say, but the situation left him no choice.

Michael broke the silence, his tone resolute. "Let's save the 20 hostages. The rest... if they resist, you do what you have to do."

Sam's gaze turned cold, his expression hardening. He didn't want to kill them all—especially not those who had been forced to comply for survival. But their complicity in the crimes, their decision to side with the killers who had massacred so many, left little room for mercy.

"They're already broken," Sam muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Even if we save them, it might not matter."

Michael placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then do what you can, Sam. Save who you can. And for the rest... make sure this doesn't happen again."

Sam nodded, his resolve hardening. There was no turning back now.

Sam walked slowly toward the wooden wall, his expression calm and unyielding. The guard stationed at the top spotted him and immediately shouted, "Who the f*** are you? Freeze! Raise your hands now!"

Sam didn't reply. He kept moving forward, his steady steps sending a wave of unease through the air.

"Stop, or I'll shoot!" the guard yelled again, his voice tinged with panic. But when Sam continued without a word, the guard fired.

Bang!

The bullet struck Sam square in the chest, but instead of blood, a grey-silver mist seeped from the hole, swirling ominously before reabsorbing into his body.

The guard's eyes widened in horror. "What the hell?! He's not human! Monster! It's a shapeshifter!"

The shout drew the attention of others. More criminals poured out, guns in hand, and began firing in a panic.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A relentless hail of bullets rained down on Sam, but he kept walking, unaffected. The grey mist flowed from each impact, a terrifying display that only fueled the criminals' fear.

"He's still coming!" one of them screamed. "What the f*** is that thing?!"

Despite their desperate assault, Sam showed no signs of stopping. He reached the base of the wall, placed a hand on it, and activated his power.

BOOM!

The explosion ripped through the structure, sending splinters and debris flying. The wall crumbled in an instant, and those stationed on it were blown apart, their bodies reduced to pieces.

The criminals who had gathered to fight froze, staring at the devastation with wide eyes.

"It's unstoppable!" one of them cried, dropping his weapon. "We're all gonna die!"

Sam stepped over the rubble, his pace deliberate, his movements calm. More of the gang rushed forward, firing their remaining bullets in a last-ditch effort to stop him. The sound of gunfire echoed across the camp, but their ammunition was limited, and soon the shots ceased.

Click. Click.

The empty clicks of dry triggers filled the silence.

"We're out of bullets!" one shouted, his voice trembling. "What do we do now?!"

Another man, panicked, grabbed a club and tried to rally his comrades. "We have to take It down up close! It's the only way!"

But no one moved. Fear paralyzed them. The sight of the grey mist, the destruction of the wall, and Sam's unflinching advance had broken their will.

In the center of the chaos, the gang leader, Victor, barked orders from the back. "Don't just stand there! Kill It! Do you want to die?!"

Despite his commands, no one dared approach Sam. His presence alone was enough to sow panic and confusion among the criminals.

Sam, meanwhile, remained focused. He didn't attack. He didn't retaliate. His sole purpose now was to keep their attention fixed on him while Michael and Eddie worked to free the hostages.

His eyes scanned the crowd, marking each individual with cold precision. Who will be spared? Who must die?

The criminals continued to shout, their fear turning to desperation as Sam drew closer. He could see Victor now, the man shouting commands like a cornered animal.

Sam stopped just short of the gang leader, standing silently as if daring them to strike. His body remained a shield, a wall of intimidation that none dared breach.

The clock was ticking. Once Michael and Eddie had secured the hostages, the real reckoning would begin.

Victor's voice broke the silence, sharp and venomous. "Don't just stand there!! Take It down!"

The gang members hesitated, their eyes darting between Sam and their leader. The grey-silver mist flowing from Sam's body, his calm demeanor, and the destruction he'd wrought were enough to paralyze even the bravest among them.

"I said MOVE!" Victor roared, grabbing one of his lackeys by the collar and shoving him forward. "Get in there, or I'll kill you myself!"

The shove seemed to trigger something. One man lunged forward, gripping a heavy metal pipe. "I'll kill you, you monster freak!" he yelled, swinging the weapon at Sam's head with all his strength.

The pipe connected with a sickening clang, but instead of staggering, Sam barely flinched. The grey mist absorbed the impact, and the man stumbled back in shock.

"What the hell is It made of?!" the man shouted, his voice cracking with fear.

Victor snarled. "Keep going! It's not invincible!"

A group of five surged forward, armed with knives, clubs, and makeshift weapons. They surrounded Sam, shouting curses and battle cries as they attacked in unison.

Sam stood motionless, letting them come. A knife slashed across his arm, a club struck his side, and a jagged piece of glass was thrust toward his chest. Each blow connected, but instead of blood, the grey-silver mist absorbed every attack, swirling ominously before settling back into his form.

One man screamed, "It's like hitting a damn statue!"

Sam's eyes swept over them, cold and calculating. He didn't retaliate—yet. Instead, he allowed their fear and frustration to fester. The criminals were throwing everything they had, but it was useless.

Victor, watching from the back, grew more desperate. "You idiots! Overwhelm him! It can't handle all of you at once!"

Another wave of men charged, their fear replaced by a desperate fury. They clawed, stabbed, and swung their weapons with reckless abandon. Sam felt their attacks—blunt impacts, slashing attempts—but none of it fazed him.

Inwardly, he was waiting, biding his time. His focus was split between the chaos around him and the progress Michael and Eddie were making with the hostages.

"Why won't you DIE?!" one man screamed, raising a knife high and aiming for Sam's neck.

Sam finally moved, catching the blade with his bare hand. The knife shattered on impact, the force of the grip sending the man tumbling backward.

The other attackers froze, their resolve wavering as Sam stood tall, unscathed. His eyes locked onto Victor.

Sam's voice cut through the chaos, low and calm but filled with menace. "This is your last chance to stop."

"IT CAN TALK!" Some random criminal shout.

Victor spat on the ground, his bravado faltering. "Kill It! Now!"

Sam watched as Michael and Eddie successfully escorted the hostages to safety. With his priority handled, he turned his attention back to the criminals.

Time to end this, he thought.

Still, he decided to give them one last chance. "Drop your weapons and surrender," he said, his voice calm but cold.

His words barely registered. Only a handful of them hesitated, dropping their weapons, but the majority remained defiant, glaring at him with a mix of fear and anger.

Sam's gaze swept over the group, cold and calculating. He'd seen their nature—how they tormented and killed the innocent—and he knew mercy was wasted on them.

So, it's not a thousand after all. Closer to 500. These idiots either deceived themselves into thinking they were stronger in numbers or they're too stupid to count.

A faint smirk crossed his lips. "That's good. Makes my job easier," he muttered under his breath.

In an instant, Sam activated Flash Step, appearing directly in front of Victor. The gang leader's eyes widened in shock, but before he could react, Sam's fist connected with his face.

"BOOM!"

Victor's head exploded, his body collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

The remaining criminals froze in horror, some beginning to flee in blind panic. Sam wasted no time, targeting the first to run. With another Flash Step, he appeared behind the fleeing man and delivered a single punch, the force causing the man's body to explode into a shower of blood and gore.

"BOOM!"

One by one, Sam hunted them down. He moved like a ghost, appearing and disappearing with terrifying speed. Those who tried to run were the first to fall, their bodies exploding under the impact of his relentless strikes.

For the ones still frozen in shock, their fate was delayed but not spared. Sam worked methodically, his movements efficient and ruthless.

The sounds of flesh and bone tearing apart echoed across the area for ten minutes, each blast painting the surroundings in crimson. When it was over, the once-bustling camp had become a lake of blood, the ground littered with unrecognizable remains.

Only 50 people remained alive, sitting in a huddled group with dead, vacant eyes. These were the ones who had been forced to work under the criminals—the ones Sam had confirmed were clean.

Breathing steadily, Sam walked toward them, his bloodied appearance making them flinch. He stopped a few feet away, his voice calm but firm. "I'm here to help you. Follow me to my camp."

None of them moved. Their eyes darted between him and the carnage he had left behind, fear etched into their faces, No one believed his word.

Sam turned to leave, his tone soft but resolute. "Stay here if you want. But if you want a chance to survive, follow me."

As he began walking away, the silence was broken by a single, trembling voice, barely audible.

"Demon..."