Ch.101101. Punishment

“Do I look cool like this?”

[Hmm… how about making your stance bigger? Since you won’t be doing close combat anyway, wouldn’t a wider area of destruction be better?]

“Oh, that’s a good idea.”

[Hehe, thanks, senior.]

Meanwhile, at the same time, in Shanghai, I was controlling Black Mecha-Guan Yu with Seah, livestreaming a kaiju show, and we were happily chatting while demolishing Shanghai.

The defense forces and hunters surrounding us were merely being torn apart by Black Mecha-Guan Yu’s hands, their souls becoming subordinate to me. Along the way, I also subjugated the souls of high-ranking officials and civilians trying to escape the city.

Hunters and soldiers were good for recycling into kaiju due to their combat experience and techniques, but the reason I subjugated civilians and officials as well was—

“Now then—”

[It’s fun sorting time, senior!]

Because I planned to classify these disgusting pieces of trash from this city rotted by capitalist slaves according to their crimes, and then deliver punishment—though it was closer to venting my anger.

For those who committed ordinary crimes, I could just throw them into meat-shield kaiju for display battles and make them suffer for decades with multiplied pain. But for some particularly vicious cases, I had many considerations.

Simply keeping them as souls seemed too comfortable for these bastards, and sending them to the front lines felt inadequate given how much worse their crimes were compared to other trash.

To put their deeds simply, they had recreated some of the most hardcore content from the archives in reality, and this was just the lightest of their crimes.

For those who made “human hunting” their hobby, ordinary murder was practically routine. They would kidnap passing elementary school buses to use as “prey” when they got bored with regular victims, or frequently hold gladiatorial matches using kaiju and indebted hunters.

One deranged psychopath wanted to recreate historical tortures and punishments, personally carrying out crucifixions and bronze bull executions. Another, obsessed with body modification, actually created a human centipede in real life.

There was even a wealthy young lady who, born without the rare psychic abilities, believed the absurd rumor that eating psychic users would increase psychic powers. She resolved each day’s meal by dismembering kidnapped civilians (with psychic abilities).

Particularly that human centipede—even I, who somewhat enjoys body modification, was appalled by how inefficient and disgusting it was. I couldn’t forgive these premium pieces of trash—

“Yeah, let’s cut them up first and think about it later. That seems good.”

[Yes, let’s do that.]

So I decided to place their souls into special punching bag bodies (sensitivity 3000x, regeneration A), then put them through a grinder while deciding on their next treatment.

Ideally, I’d like to make them die and revive infinitely, but… there are various problems that make this difficult.

When facing death and the separation of body and soul, the soul receives serious damage, which is mainly engraved on the soul in the form of memories.

The depression and emptiness—about 10,000 times more amplified than severe depression—and the wounds to the soul from forced separation from the body could completely destroy the soul if repeated multiple times.

Of course, I’m not concerned about such creatures. I simply can’t stand the thought of them disappearing before paying for their crimes; I want them to pay no matter what.

So while I was seriously contemplating this, Seah offered a suggestion.

[Senior, how about ____?]

“Hmm… it’s good, but is it really possible?”

If it could be done, it would be better than any other solution, but the possibility seemed so low that I doubted whether it was actually feasible.

“Well, I’ll give it a try anyway.”

But with nothing to lose, since failure wouldn’t cost me anything, I decided to test the idea and—

“Oh, it worked.”

[…Why is this even possible?]

I successfully implemented what I thought would be completely impossible.

※ ※ ※

Zhu Qingwei.

As the eldest son of the chairman of Xinming Group, ranked 7th among the famous megacorps of the Chinese Republic, he was the proud heir to Xinming Group and an excellent businessman raised through rigorous elite education.

His management skills, which had grown Xinming Insurance into the Chinese Republic’s top insurance company, could be considered the best among megacorp heirs.

Since it would be foolish to leave such a super executive who would never betray the company alone, Qingwei was constantly overworked by his father.

Despite this heavy workload, he had a hobby he loved so much that he made time for it at least once a week—

“N-no—”

Bang!

Thud!

“Phew, I did it.”

“Congratulations, young master!”

It was “hunting” two-legged beasts captured from the city and released into his private forest, subduing them with stun rounds, and then cooking and eating them while they were still fresh and alive.

Such a hobby was considered quite modest and plain by Chinese Republic upper-class standards, so he even took pride in this “hunting.”

“Secretary, please prepare the cooking.”

“Yes! Today…”

“Let’s fry it. Ah, don’t forget to keep the head alive.”

Anyway, today’s hunt was over. Qingwei asked his secretary to prepare the beast he had hunted today and happily headed to the dining room.

As he particularly enjoyed fried thighs with the bones still attached, he was humming cheerfully in anticipation of today’s meal when—

At that moment, the world went dark for a brief moment, and when it brightened again, somehow Qingwei found himself unable to move, placed on some kind of cart being transported somewhere.

‘W-what! Hey! Hey!’

He desperately tried to move his body or open his mouth, but his body wouldn’t budge at all.

Naturally frightened by this strange phenomenon, Qingwei tried to understand the situation by listening to his surroundings, and what he heard was…

“The young master said he wants it fried today. Since he didn’t specify anything else, we should prepare it as usual.”

“Yes, understood, Secretary.”

It was his secretary and head chef pleasantly discussing today’s meal, and upon hearing this, with his objectively genius-level intellect, he could roughly grasp the current situation.

‘N-no way, have I become that beast from earlier…? What is this? A psychic who can exchange bodies? Did they deliberately infiltrate to target me?’

Though the exact circumstances were unclear, he was now apparently inside the body of the two-legged beast that had been paralyzed by the stun round.

And since that beast was about to be fried, he too would soon become a crispy fried meal while still alive.

‘Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Do you know who I am?!!! Hey!!!! Hey!!!!!!!!’

Therefore, knowing this fact better than anyone, Qingwei struggled desperately to escape this situation, screaming internally, but the stun round’s effect was perfect—he couldn’t make any movement, not even blink.

“Let’s begin, start it up.”

“Yes, Chef!”

And unfortunately, Qingwei was now about to be cooked alive.

‘—————!!!!!’

Shuk, shuk, shuk! Slash!

They fixed hooks into the nape of his neck to suspend him in the air with a life-support time-fixing device, and then began “processing” him while he could feel every bit of pain.

If I described this in detail, it would definitely be R-rated, so I’ll skip to the result: his body was dismembered and “spread out” for easy eating, with everything below his head fried to a crisp.

Of course, in this state, he felt all the pain of his flesh being cut, skin being peeled, salt entering his wounds, being coated in batter, and being fried in extreme heat. Even now, as he was neatly arranged on a plate being delivered, he still felt everything.

In fact, these cruel measures were due to his own instructions to the chef to fry the prey in a state where it could feel all the pain.

At some point, he became too exhausted to even scream internally. Now he was placed on some dining table, being dismembered bit by bit and eaten by dozens of people, with every piece of flesh maintaining sensation, making the pain even greater.

But even in this agony, Qingwei held onto a sliver of hope: soon his head would be smashed by the host, ending this pain.

And indeed, it happened just as he thought.

With only his head remaining, he was moved to some table, and a hammer came down on his head, which had been permanently depilated during processing—

Crunch!

His head was completely smashed.

‘—Huh?’

Of course, this was absolutely not the end.

[Death #1 of Round 107 complete. Requesting reset… confirmed. Mental burden: Safe, request denied. Beginning record replay.]

At some point, with only his soul remaining, he was classified by some mechanical device, lost consciousness just like before, and—it started again.