Hitman with a Badass System



The Agra worshipper raised his sword, causing the woman to close her eyes and clutch her baby tightly. Beside her, the little girl's eyes squeezed shut in fear.

"NO!" Billy's voice cracked with desperation as he tried to intervene.

But just as the sword seemed poised to strike, it froze mid-air. The Agra worshipper's wrist was held firmly by a young man seated beside the intended victim. Another Agra worshipper approached with a mocking snicker, ready to attack the young man. However, his kick landed on the young man's back, with no effect.

Under the young man's grip, the first worshipper's sword dropped, and the mother cautiously opened her eyes, observing the scene. She turned her gaze toward the young man, finding an unspoken reassurance in his eyes.

Amidst the refugees, shock was palpable as the young man dared to confront the Agra worshippers.

"Arghh!" the worshipper in the young man's grip growled in pain.

Simultaneously, the one who had kicked the young man cried out in agony, clutching his injured leg. The mother, now facing the other Agra worshipper, witnessed the gruesome sight of the man's twisted and bloodied leg.

"I am not playing hero," the young man finally spoke as he rose to his feet.

"I am playing god," he declared with a chilling snicker. With swift precision, he twisted the worshipper's wrist, eliciting a scream of pain.

"Close your eyes, honey," the young man addressed the little girl, who obediently shut her eyes. In an instant, he unsheathed his dark sword and swiftly cleaved the worshipper in half. The grotesque halves thudded to the ground, showering the refugees in a gruesome spray of blood.

Screams of horror echoed from the horrified refugees, the image too much for them to bear.

The young man turned to face the Agra worshipper who had been relentlessly kicking him. This worshipper was now on the ground, his leg broken and painful.

Meanwhile, the remaining Agra worshippers surrounded the young man.

"Cut him into pieces!" they cried out, their sinister intentions clear.

Despite his reluctance to reveal his true power, Michael recognized that this situation called for immediate action. The system's urging to save the refugees and potentially gain followers aligned with his own determination to rid the world of these Agra worshippers. Unbeknownst to him, this choice would set in motion a series of events that would lead him into a conflict with the cruel god Agra.

"John…" Billy's voice held a mix of surprise and respect as he observed the young man in a new light.

Michael exchanged a meaningful smile with the three who had aided the refugees. But his attention swiftly returned to the Agra worshippers, his expression hardening.

"Luck hasn't favored you today. It's death," Michael declared as two of the Agra worshippers lunged at him. Yet, in the blink of an eye, their heads were severed from their bodies. The refugees were unable to comprehend the swift, otherworldly speed of Michael's movements.

The remaining four Agra worshippers stood frozen in terror, sensing a power beyond their understanding but unaware of his true identity due to Marli's medallion suppressing his godly aura.

"Bandits seem to be a constant problem, no matter which world I'm in," Michael mused, wiping the blood from his dark sword onto his arm.

"You… we…" the Agra worshippers stammered, their fear rendering them speechless.

But before they could react, Michael lunged at them. In an instant, he cut down the remaining bandits as if they were mere obstacles. However, the leader of the Agra worshippers managed to take Billy hostage, using his sword to press against Billy's neck and issuing a threat to Michael.

"If you dare take a step forward, I will cut open his throat!" the last Agra worshipper shouted, holding Billy hostage.

"What makes you think I'd give a damn about him?" Michael's unexpected response not only stunned the Agra worshipper but also left Billy, Micah, and Leon in disbelief.

"John… please…" Billy's voice trembled, a desperate plea for his life.

"I'll take him with me!" The Agra worshipper's desperation pushed him to the brink of killing Billy. Yet, as he made a move, dark beams shot forth from Michael's eyes, penetrating the Agra worshipper's skull.

The worshipper's body froze momentarily before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud. The refugees looked on, suddenly realizing that Michael was more than he appeared to be. While many in this world lacked cultivation or power, those blessed by the gods possessed the potential for such abilities. However, among them, only a fortunate few could attain higher levels of cultivation, let alone become an angel. Wealth, much like in the mortal realm, also played a pivotal role in cultivation.

But it had never occurred to them that they might encounter a god in the flesh.

As the lifeless bodies of the Agra worshippers lay in pools of their own blood, a new light shone upon Michael in the eyes of the refugees. Billy, Micah, and Leon approached him, their expressions a mix of fear and gratitude. The refugees, though slowly rising to their feet, still trembled from the shock of their near-death experience at the hands of the Agra worshippers.

"Who are you?" Billy's voice wavered with a blend of apprehension and thankfulness.

"For now, that's not important. Just remember this day," Michael replied calmly. He had no intention of unveiling his true identity just yet, even though the system was encouraging him to gather worshippers.

Aware of his own current weakness compared to the higher-level gods and their angels, Michael chose to focus on learning about this world and growing stronger before facing them.

"We should go before more of them show up," he suggested.

"Thank you…" The woman who had been on the brink of death at the hands of the Agra worshippers approached Michael, her voice laced with gratitude.

To Michael's surprise, he felt an unfamiliar surge of power within himself. Although it didn't trigger any notifications from the system, he sensed its potency.

"What is this feeling?" Michael questioned himself.

[That is the power of reverence. The more worshippers you gather, the more your power will grow. Unlike you, who possess the system to gain strength, typical gods in this world tap into the power of worship to become stronger.] The system revealed this new aspect to Michael.

Unbeknownst to him, the realm of gods operated on a diverse scale of power and cultivation methods, a far cry from the straightforward dynamics of the mortal realm. Each god, and even mortals, followed distinct cultivation rules. Michael, being a god, had the ability to harness the power of worshippers.

This power, however, could be derived not only from devoted worship but also from the grip of fear. The god Agra, in particular, drew strength from the terror of death and destruction, setting him apart from many other deities.

Michael's introspective moment was abruptly interrupted by a resonating clap of thunder. His gaze shot upwards, where a streak of crimson red lightning slashed across the sky. A familiar sight, akin to the lightning he had witnessed while with Darth, signaled to Michael that the more he employed his powers, the closer he drew the attention of the pantheon.

"Stay calm. Your focus should be on reaching Nimbosia and starting a new life," Michael reassured the shaken woman, motioning for the rest of the refugees to return to the safety of the carriage.

"Let's go," he directed, leaping back onto the carriage's roof, mirroring his earlier stance.

As the three drivers resettled themselves, the journey to Nimbosia, the realm of Rainar, the God of Rain, resumed.

[Prepare yourself, God of Darkness. Your life is about to become significantly more complicated and challenging] Michael was caught off guard by the system's voice echoing in his mind.

He peered into his pockets and found Vedora's eyes fixed on him, yet the hydra remained silent. Something seemed to be troubling Vedora, but the creature refrained from voicing its concerns.

The journey continued in quietude until the carriage finally emerged from the forest's embrace. Before Michael stretched a kingdom unlike any he had ever laid eyes upon. Towering stone walls shielded the cityscape beyond, masking its inner structures from view. Amidst this, a remarkable sight caught his attention: a grand edifice constructed from glass and adorned with gold accents. What struck Michael even more profoundly was the spectacle above the kingdom.

Clusters of clouds had congregated, forming a colossal hand-like shape that generously showered rain upon the entire expanse. A river flowed around the city, its waters swelled by the constant downpour. However, what puzzled Michael was the conspicuous absence of thunderclaps or lightning streaks amidst the rainfall.

"Nimbosia," Michael muttered softly, his eyes fixed on the distant cityscape on the horizon.

"I hope they manage to find a better life behind those walls," Micah sighed, his eyes reflecting the skepticism born from witnessing the struggles of refugees. Often, their pursuit of a more promising life in a different kingdom ended up leading to even harsher circumstances. Such newcomers were frequently regarded as burdens, and their existence came with hardships.

"I believe they will," Michael replied. Though he had no intention of taking on the role of their savior or playing the virtuous hero, he had a strong intuition that the refugees might indeed find better lives within the confines of Nimbosia's walls. Moreover, he was determined to uncover a way to challenge or vanquish a god; when that moment arrived, Rainar and the rest of the gods would have no choice but to bow before his might.

As the carriage progressed toward the city gates, Michael's attention remained fixed on the sky. He pondered the extent of Rainar's power, marveling at the massive hand conjuring torrents of rain upon the kingdom. A deeper curiosity gnawed at him – why Rainar would subject his own citizens to such relentless punishment.

"Think we'll cross paths again?" Billy's inquiry interrupted Michael's thoughts.

"You better hope not," Michael quipped, a hint of humor in his tone.

Before Billy could respond, a deafening clap of thunder roared through the air. The sound was so intense, so terrifying, that it reverberated through the carriage, rattling its very frame. Michael instinctively looked skyward, his gaze tracing the trail of a lightning bolt slicing through the heavens. From that brilliant streak, a group of figures adorned in shimmering blue armor and boasting resplendent blue wings emerged, suspended in the sky.

"Kranar's angels," Billy muttered, his voice laced with unmistakable fear.

In the wake of their appearance, Michael spotted yet another cluster of angels ascending from within the city's walls. Their wings were gray, their armor a somber shade of the same hue. With his keen eyes, Michael observed both groups of angels hovering in mid-air, poised for an imminent clash.

"Damn it. We've got to get inside before they go all oute," Billy exclaimed urgently, snapping the reins to hasten the horses' pace toward the safety of the city's embrace.