Chapter 127: Chapter 127: True Power
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At that moment...
"Keh keh!"
A shrill, eerie laughter echoed through the air.
Covered in blood, Carrie slowly rose into the air, her demonic eyes locking onto the three before her. A violent surge of telekinetic energy erupted from her, causing everything around her to tremble and lift off the ground.
"Handled? What do you mean, handled?"
Carrie gazed at the trio with a mocking expression, her eyes brimming with amusement.
Once again, he had encountered these three... and their souls had become even more perfect.
"Charles?"
Clark and Erik turned to look at Charles.
Charles' expression hardened. "There's another soul inside her. He's the one controlling her body."
If it weren't for that other soul's power, subduing Carrie wouldn't have required nearly this much effort.
"So, we meet again."
Carrie—or rather, Mephisto—grinned and casually greeted the trio.
Clark and the others exchanged puzzled glances. They had no recollection of who he was.
Just then, Mike quietly stepped forward, appearing before the three.
He had been observing their battle from the shadows all along, never intervening.
Seeing Mike emerge, Clark and Charles shared a knowing smile.
With their abilities, they had already sensed him following them from the beginning.
"?"
Erik, on the other hand, was utterly confused.
When did my father get here?
Mephisto turned his gaze toward Mike, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"You can't stop me. And this time, the Ancient One won't be coming to save you."
Last time, he had used his own magic, which had alerted the Ancient One to his presence. But this time, he had only amplified Carrie's natural abilities through the power of his contract, reshaping her entirely.
Of course, given his ever-cautious nature, what stood before them was merely a soul fragment—not his true form.
But even if it was just a fragment...
Mike's lips curled into a faint smile. "Do you think this is still twelve years ago?"
"Hm?"
Mephisto was momentarily taken aback.
Then, Mike turned to Charles. "Take care of him. Show him your power."
That was all Charles needed to hear.
Ever since their battle with Carrie had begun, the three brothers had been holding back, never once using their full strength.
After all, they didn't want to risk accidentally hurting their classmate—causing trouble for Mike in the process. So, they had been carefully restraining themselves.
But now?
"True power?"
Mephisto's eyes narrowed.
Charles grinned.
With his father's approval, he no longer needed to hold back.
In the next instant, a terrifying surge of psychic energy exploded forth like a violent storm, crashing down upon Carrie and consuming Mephisto's soul fragment.
Mephisto tried to resist, but the psychic barriers he had constructed were instantly shattered by Charles' overwhelming mental force. The next moment, his soul projection was torn to shreds.
"AAAAH!"
A scream of pure soul-wrenching agony echoed through everyone's minds.
At the same time, the remnants of Mephisto's shattered soul coalesced into raw, infernal energy, swirling behind Carrie.
A flaming gateway to Hell materialized in its place.
A Demon's Hand
A massive, clawed hand emerged from the fiery depths, seizing Carrie and dragging her toward the Hellgate.
Throughout the entire process, Carrie—now fully conscious—offered no resistance. She simply hung limply, like a bloodstained puppet, gazing silently at those before her.
"Dad!"
Clark frowned, his tone filled with urgency.
Mike replied calmly, "They signed their soul contracts long ago. And this girl… she's already been turned into a demon."
"Hmph..."
A deep, resentful growl rumbled from the other side of the Hellgate. But that was all—there was no further resistance.
Any longer, and that bald man might show up again.
The Hellgate rapidly began to shrink, but just before it fully vanished, Carrie stretched out her hand. With a flick of her fingers, she pulled the discarded suit jacket lying on the ground into the infernal abyss.
In the next instant, the Hellgate collapsed into a tiny ember—then disappeared without a trace.
Silence fell over the battlefield once more.
The four of them—father and sons—exchanged glances. The three brothers instinctively turned their eyes toward Mike. Seeing the faint smile on his face, their tense shoulders finally relaxed.
"You handled this well," Mike remarked.
Hearing those words, the three brothers lit up with joy.
Then, Mike gestured toward them. "Go on, head back to school. You know what to do next."
The three nodded. Clark glanced at Charles and Erik. "Come on, I'll take you back."
Charles instinctively reached out to take Clark's hand—but hesitated and quickly withdrew it.
"I'd rather have Erik take me."
Erik nodded in agreement.
Clark raised an eyebrow. "Relax, I won't go too fast."
Charles and Erik exchanged a glance, then reluctantly nodded.
Without further discussion, Clark grabbed both of them—one under each arm. Then, with a single step, he vanished.
"AAAAAH!"
Two loud, startled screams echoed in the distance.
Watching his sons disappear, Mike couldn't help but chuckle.
They've grown up.
Not just in terms of raw power—but in how they handled situations.
Still, that Mephisto was a real pain.
As the Lord of Hell, Mephisto was at his strongest within his own domain. But outside of Hell, his power would gradually weaken the longer he remained.
Of course, he was well aware of this limitation, which was why he never left Hell in person—always sending his projections instead. That way, he could safely meddle, collect souls, and generally make life miserable for everyone. Cunning and powerful—an infuriating combination.
Fortunately, since it was only a projection, dealing with it wasn't too difficult.
With that thought, a playing card materialized in Mike's hand before dissolving into particles of light. The next moment, his figure flickered—and he was gone.
---
Meanwhile, Clark and his brothers had already returned to the school gym, blending in seamlessly with the other unconscious students.
Charles had been careful in his mental manipulation—just enough to knock everyone out without causing permanent harm. It wasn't long before students began regaining consciousness one by one.
"What happened?"
When the police arrived to investigate the incident, the students were bewildered. Their memories were hazy at best. They vaguely recalled being hit by some invisible force before blacking out.
However, there was one thing they all remembered clearly:
Carrie.
The girl who had been drenched in blood.
The girl who had looked like a demon.
Yet, after searching the entire gym, she was nowhere to be found. With no further leads, the authorities had no choice but to document the incident and notify the relevant departments.
Parents arrived one by one, taking their shaken children home. Many were heartbroken to see their kids injured, but they were grateful—they were alive. Unlike a few unfortunate souls who… weren't.
But those few victims? They had been bullies.
Word spread quickly. Among the students who had suffered under their torment, more than a few couldn't help but let out small, guilty chuckles when they heard the news.
Justice, in its own twisted way, had been served.
After answering a few routine questions from the police, Clark and his brothers quietly slipped away.
---
By the time they arrived home, Mike was already waiting for them—with supper.
"Smells amazing!" Charles cheered, his nose twitching as he rushed into the kitchen. The moment he saw what was on the stove, his face lit up. "Wontons!"
"You must be hungry." Mike glanced at them before instructing, "Wash your hands first, then you can eat."
Clark and Erik obediently headed to the sink.
Charles, on the other hand, reached out to sneak a taste—only for Mike to promptly kick him in the butt.
"Out. Go wash your hands."
Grinning sheepishly, Charles bolted for the bathroom.
Mike knew them well—he understood that after a fight, they'd always come home starving.
And, as expected…
They couldn't have asked for a better way to end the night.
(End of Chapter)