Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious - Chapter 200 - 65

Chapter 200: Chapter 65

The penthouse was no longer an office for the depraved, but was now a biological disaster zone, a fever dream of wet thuds, tearing flesh, and the high-pitched, discordant shrieking of the newborn wailers.

The air was becoming thick with a cloying, metallic stench that seemed to coat the back of the throat.

“Sakai! What are you standing there for!? Help me!?” Renji’s roar cut through the chaos.

He was struggling, his massive frame braced as he carried three traumatized girls at once—one tucked under each arm and another slung over his shoulder.

Sakai snapped out of his daze, his eyes wide and pupils dilated as he jumped, his boots skidding on a slick patch of spilled wine and blood. “O-Oh! R-Right!”

Renji didn’t have the breath to curse him out. He understood better, after all, that smong their group, Sakai had always been the one with the softest heart, the kindest disposition, and arguably the one with the faintest heart.

Back in the day, it had taken months of grueling training under Seijirou’s cold gaze and Renji’s relentless sparring just to get him to a point where he wouldn’t turn and run during a street fight.

Even though Sakai practiced his forms until his knuckles bled and always tried to project an aura of cool confidence, the reality of this “paradise” was a different beast entirely.

When faced with truly frightening, stomach-churning depravity, Sakai didn’t just hesitate to act, but he completely froze, his mind retreating into a defensive shell.

“Fuck! Get off me!” Renji screamed as his legs were being swarmed.

The wailers—those oily, multi-eyed infant horrors—were crawling over his boots, their tiny, needle-toothed mouths snapping at his shins.

He tried to shake them off, but they were surprisingly heavy, their grip like wet iron.

“Let go of him!” Sakai’s voice broke, shifting from a stutter to a desperate, protective yell.

He lunged forward, his hands blurring as he snatched two of the wailers by their slippery, black torsos, and with a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, he smashed them against each other with a sickening squelch.

Their internal fluids—a foul, ink-like liquid—splashed across his face and uniform, but he didn’t blink.

Renji stared at him in genuine shock, momentarily forgetting the weight on his shoulders. “Y-You… are you okay, man?”

Sakai was breathing in short, shallow gasps, his chest heaving as if he were on the verge of hyperventilating.

His hands were shaking, but his grip on his resolve was tightening as he wiped a streak of black ichor from his cheek and managed a jagged, determined nod. “I-I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, Renji! Just get those girls to the elevator, get them to safety! I’ll stay here. I’ll make sure none of these… these things get anywhere near your back!”

Renji searched his friend’s face for a second, saw the terror being overwritten by duty, and nodded back.

He turned and sprinted toward the exit, his heavy footsteps thundering while Sakai stood his ground in the center of the carnage, a lone sentry against the rising tide of shadows.

On the other side of the long banquet table, Yukina was finding herself in a war of attrition as she watched with growing horror as several more of the captive girls began to twitch, their bodies forced into an accelerated, supernatural labor.

She gritted her teeth, watching as the girls were forced to give “birth” to these creatures in a cycle that seemed inexhaustible, like a production line of monsters fueled by human suffering.

She took a deep breath to calm herself down, her spirit energy fluttering in agitation.

To end this, she might have to kill those girls to stop them from giving birth to more of these creatures.

But, although she had already resolved herself to kill, she still couldn’t bring herself to kill an innocent, broken girl just to stop the “source” of the wailers.

Because of that, she was trapped in a defensive loop, her fists moving in a blur as she pulverized every creature that leaped at her.

’Seijirou… Suzune… hurry up and kill that fat bastard,’ she prayed silently. ’I can’t keep this up forever.’

Just then, a new sound emerged, a deep, rhythmic thrumming as another wailer was birthed, but this one actually didn’t immediately lunge for flesh like the othes did, but instead, it remained still, its oily skin bubbling and expanding.

A moment later, it began to convulse violently, its small frame stretching and snapping.

Under Yukina’s disgusted gaze, the creature grew thick, corded muscular arms, followed by powerful legs and a barrel-chested torso, until it stood nearly six feet tall.

It was a nightmare of anatomy—a disfigured, oversized infant’s head perched atop the hyper-muscular body of a professional bodybuilder, all of it coated in that shimmering, black grease.

“What the hell…” Yukina grunted, her wings tensing.

She didn’t have time to finish the thought though, as the creature vanished from its spot, its speed exceeding anything the smaller wailers had shown.

It appeared directly in her personal space and slammed both of its massive, interlaced fists down toward the back of her head with the force of a falling anvil.

Yukina let out a muffled groan as she face-planted into the expensive hardwood floor.

The impact was so great that a spiderweb of cracks radiated out from her head, splintering the polished grain.

The creature didn’t let up as it immediately reached down, its fingers digging into her hair, and hoisted her up like a trophy.

But Yukina wasn’t a novice, and despite the stars dancing in her vision, she reached up, her fingers finding the creature’s wrist, and twisted it with everything she had.

The creature let out a high-pitched, pained wail, a sound that was eerily childlike despite its monstrous form, and dropped her.

Yukina hit the ground, rolled, and immediately tackled the creature, intending to bring it down to the floor.

However, the beast was solid, and it didn’t even budge.

Instead, it raised a massive elbow and drove it directly into her spine, and the moment it hit, the air immediately left her lungs in a painful wheeze.

’Fucking… hell!’ Yukina’s temper, usually buried under a layer of playful perversion, finally snapped.

She gritted her teeth, the purple glow in her eyes intensifying until it was a blinding white, and she fully activated her Karyoku, “He, Who Wrestled With God.”

Bright feathery wings extended from her back, shedding off bright sparks that sizzled against the black liquid on the floor.

Then, ornate gauntlets materialized over her fists, humming with divine energy.

“Let’s see how tough you really are, you oversized brat!” Yukina roared.

She launched a devastating uppercut aimed at the creature’s jaw, but surprisingly, the thing exhibited a primal reflex and it tilted its head back at the last millisecond, the blow whistling past its chin.

It countered instantly with a straight punch that caught Yukina squarely on the bridge of her nose.

Yukina stumbled back, her eyes watering as she clutched her face, feeling the hot drip of blood.

“Fuck… Takeko-senpai was right, I need to learn how to use my strength,” she muttered, her pride was stinging more than her nose.

Takeko-senpai had once told her that her raw power was useless if she couldn’t land a hit on a technical fighter.

Shaking her head to clear those thoughts, she surged forward again.

This time, the creature took the initiative, its massive fist hurtling toward her face like a cannonball, but Yukina didn’t dodge, and instead, she planted her feet, braced her core, and met the attack with a punch of her own.

BOOM.

The shockwave blew the curtains out and shattered the remaining wine glasses on the table.

This time, Yukina’s divine strength, channeled through her gauntlets, completely overwhelmed the creature’s biology.

Its entire arm didn’t just break—it disintegrated, blowing apart into a spray of black oily liquid.

Yukina didn’t give it a chance to regenerate as she grinned, her eyes predatory, as she grabbed the creature’s other arm—the one she had twisted earlier.

She yanked it toward her and delivered a punch that buried itself into its chest.

Then, she let loose.

“ORAH!”

Her hands moved like high-speed pistons, a blur of silver and gold light as she rained a relentless barrage of punches onto the creature’s face and torso for a full, uninterrupted minute.

Each strike sounded like a gunshot as the creature’s body became a frantic, wobbling mass of jelly, unable to maintain its form under the sheer kinetic energy.

Then, with one final, roaring haymaker, Yukina blew the creature apart, with its body was reduced to a massive splash of black liquid that painted the walls and ceiling, leaving behind only the severed arm she was still holding.

She stared at the limb for a second, disgusted, and then crushed it into a puddle as well.

Yukina stood there, her wings slowly folding back, her breath coming in heavy, jagged pulls as she looked at her trembling hands, then around the room at the still-growing number of wailers.

“Maybe…” she whispered, wiping blood and oil from her forehead. “Maybe I really should have taken those lessons from Takeko-senpai.”