E-Rank or SSS-Rank: I Awakened a Skill That Shouldn't Exist
Chapter 162: Metallo’s Rampage

Chapter 162: Metallo’s Rampage

Chapter 162

Fwoom! Fwoom! Fwoom!

A volley of energy arrows tore through the air, each one a streak of lethal light heading straight for a single figure—

A man clad in sleek, dark armor. His hair was jet black, and a beard framed his sharp jaw. But the most striking feature was the third eye glowing ominously on his forehead.

He twisted mid-air, flipping with fluid, almost inhuman grace. Arrows zipped past him, barely missing their mark. One final arrow came screaming toward him—

Snap!

He caught it mid-flight with a single hand, clenched his fist, and crushed it into shimmering fragments.

But before he could move again—

BOOM!

A colossal fist slammed into him with the force of a battering ram. Bron, muscles flexed and roaring, had struck him with everything he had.

Dust burst outward from the impact. Yet, the man barely staggered—just two steps back.

As the dust settled, he lowered his arms, expression unreadable. The third eye on his forehead flared bright yellow.

Bron’s eyes widened in alarm. "Shit...!"

But before the beam could fire—

Whoosh!

A blade sang through the air, aimed for the man’s neck. He twisted aside just in time, narrowly dodging decapitation.

With several agile leaps, he retreated, putting distance between himself and his attackers. In seconds, he stood atop a building, peering down at the trio.

Bron gritted his teeth. "Damn it. This guy’s too much..."

They’d believed that together—Bron, Shin, and Shae—they could overpower him. After all, the man was said to specialize in stealth and assassination. Direct combat wasn’t supposed to be his strength.

But that assumption was crumbling fast.

Not only was he holding his own against three high-level fighters, but he’d already fired off two of his signature techniques—the Skull-Shattering Beam—a power no one was supposed to survive.

The man—known only as Freak Eye—stared down at them with a calm expression. But behind that silence boiled a storm.

How long has it been since anyone pushed me this far?

"I don’t have time for this," he muttered.

His third eye began to expand, glowing more fiercely with each passing second.

"Anyone in my way... will die. Starting with all of you."

FWOOM!

The yellow beam launched at lightning speed. Bron barely managed to twist his body—

BAM! SPLASH!

The beam clipped his right arm, vaporizing flesh and sending blood spraying across the street. Bron dropped to one knee, gritting his teeth, refusing to scream.

"MOVE!" Shin bellowed.

Shae blurred out of the way just as another beam ripped through where she had stood.

BOOM!

Chunks of stone exploded into the air.

Shin’s breath came in ragged bursts. He glanced up at Freak Eye, and for a moment, dread overtook resolve.

Just one hit from that beam in the wrong spot... and it’s over.

But running was worse. Turning their backs would only guarantee death.

He clenched his jaw, drawing every ounce of energy into his bow.

"No choice... We hold him off. We hold until support comes—"

His thoughts faltered.

If support comes.

With renewed desperation, he loosed a flurry of arrows skyward.

Meanwhile, in the city of Velmora...

In a high-rise tower, inside a well-furnished room with polished wooden floors and a soft golden hue filtering through the window, a young man stood in front of a mirror—getting dressed for battle.

He fastened a thick brown overcoat around his frame, layering on protective gear piece by piece. With practiced hands, he slipped on his long dark boots, then reached for his massive warhammer and strapped it securely across his back.

He paused.

A deep breath in—

Another out.

And again.

Trying to steady the storm brewing in his chest.

But just as he turned toward the door—he froze.

Standing at the entrance was a young woman. Her eyes shimmered with emotion, and her hands gently cradled her swollen belly. She was far along—far past the early stages.

"Ron..." she said softly, pain lacing her voice.

He turned slowly. "Kate..." His voice softened like the whisper of a breeze.

"Do you really have to go?" she asked, her expression pleading. "Can’t someone else fight this time?"

Ron looked at her for a long moment—long enough for her to hope he might change his mind.

But then he stepped forward, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

"I have to," he said, his voice firm but kind. "Serenya is our home. It’s under attack. I can’t just sit here while others bleed for us."

Kate’s hands moved to her belly. "But... our baby..."

Ron smiled faintly and knelt. He placed a hand on her belly just as a soft kick met his palm. His smile widened.

"Our little warrior’s already kicking," he whispered with a chuckle, then pressed a kiss to her belly—and then to her lips. "I’ll be back before the baby arrives. I promise."

Kate nodded slowly, eyes misty. She didn’t want him to go, but she knew he’d already made up his mind.

Ron gave her one last smile before opening the door and dashing out.

"Please be safe..." Kate whispered in her heart.

---

Back in Serenya...

Chaos reigned.

The wide, once-bustling streets of Serenya were now silent save for the echoing steps of a monster in human form.

Metallo strolled casually through the ruined city, hands in his pockets, moving as though he were taking a leisurely walk through his own backyard.

Only... everywhere he walked, destruction followed.

Crumbled buildings. Scorched pavement. Fallen guild members. Burnt banners. Rubble in place of homes.

He yawned loudly, stretching his arms before glancing lazily in all directions.

To the left—nothing.

To the right—empty.

Ahead—no one.

Behind—only the remnants of devastation.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Did I... kill everyone?" he mused aloud.

He’d already dealt with several members of the Tryst Guild, obliterating them without breaking a sweat. A few low-level gangsters had tried their luck too—but they barely lasted a second.

Still... no sign of citizens. No cries. No footsteps. Just eerie silence.

He could, of course, create another set of his devastating metal orbs if he felt like it—but he didn’t. Not yet.

The destruction he’d caused without them was more than satisfying.

Just when Metallo thought the silence would last forever... everything changed.

A sharp whine pierced the air.

Fwoosh! Fwoosh! Fwoosh!

In a flash, Metallo was forced into motion—leaping left, then right, then flipping backward, his feet skimming over cracked pavement as a relentless barrage of energy beams rained down from the sky. For nearly a full minute, the entire area became a warzone of flashing lights and booming impact.

But not a single beam so much as grazed his skin.

When the barrage finally ceased, smoke hung heavy in the air. Chunks of the road were missing. Buildings had been seared open. And yet, Metallo stood untouched, brushing a speck of dust off his shoulder.

Then he looked up—

And his grin spread wide.

"Well, well, well... what do we have here?"

Hundreds of sleek, hovering battle drones had formed a tight grid across the skyline, glowing with deadly power. Their target was unmistakable.

Him.

And Metallo couldn’t be happier.

"I feel honored, truly." He chuckled darkly. "I must be the most terrifying thing you’ve ever seen."

He tilted his head, already contemplating his next move. He could summon another of his giant metallic spheres and reduce them all to scrap. That’d be easy. Too easy.

But then his eyes lit up with a different kind of excitement.

"No, no, no... I’ve got a better idea."

Facing the swarm, he stretched out both arms, palms forward. The drones began to hum again—charging another volley. But Metallo’s fingers twitched slightly. His gaze sharpened. He focused.

Then... silence.

The energy within the drones remained charged—but not a single one fired.

And Metallo?

He started to laugh.

"Fools." His voice echoed across the broken city. "Fighting me with something made of metal? That’s the worst mistake you could’ve made."

---

Meanwhile, inside a remote operations lab...

Panic surged through the room like a shockwave.

"Why aren’t they firing?!" a man in a white lab coat shouted, glaring at the wall of screens. "Get them back online!"

A woman in black was already typing furiously at her console, her fingers a blur.

"I’m trying!" she snapped, frustration building. "They’re not responding! We’ve lost complete access!"

Across the lab, dozens of engineers and technicians were shouting, typing, swearing—each trying to regain control. Nothing worked. The connection was dead.

The head engineer stepped forward, his face pale, his voice low.

"...If I’m right... then we didn’t send those drones to fight him."

Everyone turned to him.

"We gave him an army."

---

Back on the battlefield...

Metallo was still grinning—but now, it had turned into full-blown, maniacal laughter.

"What a bunch of morons," he wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. "You’ll feel it soon... the horror of being attacked by your own creation."

With a wave of his hand, the drones spun in the air—and turned.

Their new targets?

Guild members. Headquarters. Civilian structures.

Metallo’s eyes gleamed with wicked joy.

"Let’s make this interesting."

And with a flick of his fingers, he gave the command.

"Fire."

---

To be continued...