“Look at these guys, who used to call each other brothers, now throwing curses and punches at each other.”

No matter how many times I see it, it’s always new and never gets old.

The mustard gas began to take effect, causing little yellow and red blisters to rise up on their bodies. The yellow was definitely from the mustard gas, while the red was from the blood seeping into the blisters.

And if you’re wondering why blood got into the blisters, it’s because they were too busy beating each other up, accumulating blood beneath their skin.

These guys, are they weaker than I thought? Or maybe they can’t muster their strength because of the poison gas?

They couldn’t even throw a punch strong enough to tear skin.

“6 minutes remaining! Hang in there!”

Sneezing and spewing strange fluids, someone forcibly lifted their bowed head with a kick. They poked someone’s eye with their finger.

Their pathetic attempts to survive by killing their comrades without any tools are just desperate. Their obsession with life itself, that’s what.

It was the source of my amusement. Watching someone do anything to stay alive is the joy of my life. It was a brief moment that quenched my insatiable thirst.

I knew very well how ugly that was. But what can I do? I was born this way. I can only enjoy when others bleed and groan in pain.

More than just playing with my friends…

…is it really more enjoyable?

After seeing so much blood, my heightened state of excitement turned as cold as if I’d just been doused in ice water. Really, is it more enjoyable than playing with friends?

I don’t know. It is enjoyable, I can’t deny that. But if someone were to ask if it’s more enjoyable than playing with friends, then, well, maybe not.

I don’t know.

Finally, I watched a traitor completely twist another’s neck and kill them, and I pondered.

The pleasure of seeing blood… yeah. If I were to compare it, it’s a bit like eating something really delicious.

When you’re super thirsty or really hungry. The feeling when you finally get to drink or eat what you wanted the most. That joy, like you’re about to ascend for just a moment.

It’s nothing but a momentary satisfaction, the most primal and intense pleasure. A big explosion that shines for a brief second before fading away.

However, the joy of playing with friends…

It can only be likened to the joy of just playing with friends. Nothing else I know gives me that kind of joy.

Is it intense? If you ask, not really that intense. Is it satisfying in that moment? Honestly, it was half and half. Is it primal pleasure? Well, maybe not.

But that joy, it’s like a small but warm campfire, lingering in memories for a long time.

It’s more of a mental joy than a primal pleasure.

A joy that warms the heart, unlike quenching thirst or hunger.

It was hard to compare. Both were undeniably joyful, but if I had to argue it, I’d say… playing with friends is slightly more enjoyable.

While I was pondering, 10 minutes passed. The last one still standing was a fugitive, who thankfully had covered their mouth and was less exposed to the mustard gas.

“I… cough, killed them all! So, hand it over!! Now!!!”

“Calling each other brother and then ending up killing everyone? When was the time to work together to escape? A traitor is a traitor after all~”

“Don’t change the subject!!! Cough, hack!!”

With bloodshot eyes weeping blood, they looked like a demon risen straight from hell.

Mustard gas had no antidote. The wounds from mustard gas were akin to burn injuries.

Still, a promise is a promise, so I spat out a little bit of water mixed with something that could help with burns over the shield.

The traitor smeared that water all over their body as if it were life-giving water or even drank it.

But that doesn’t make the effects go any faster. Guess they just wanted to do it. More than that, I couldn’t understand why they were so calm.

“I never once said I’d spare you.”

“Cough, what…?”

Did they get blisters in their ears too? It was highly possible. But honestly, what difference does it make?

As I gathered my tentacles, they transformed into hundreds of sharp, pointy spiky tentacles in an instant. And then, I pierced the frozen traitor.

“Aaaaaaah!!! Aaaaah!!!”

The scream filled with pain sounded truly sweet, but not as sweet as the voices of my friends calling for me.

Not wanting them to bleed out, I slightly expanded the tentacles piercing their body, forcing the wounds to close up.

As I observed the traitor spewing blood foam due to the pain of the expansion, I quietly muttered.

“See, who told you to betray?”

…Is this how a traitor looks? Miserable and tragic.

Will I meet this kind of end too? Hmm, I don’t think so. At least, my friends will become heroes.

If I got caught by Heros Company, well, that would be a similar fate. Haha. Or maybe they’d just manipulate me into being a slave that only listens to them.

Either way, it’s bound to be terrible.

Slowly pushing slime between the veins and muscles, I forcibly expanded the traitor’s body.

The blackness creeping up from the blue veins was quite a chilling sight.

Now, were they just too far gone to speak, or had they lost consciousness from the pain? The traitor was just shivering strangely.