Hitman With A Badass System

Chapter 1391  The Fight Begins

But before he made his grand entrance, Michael decided to… take precautions.

"System," he thought, "lock down this forest. No teleportation. No… dimensional shenanigans. I don't want Agra… poofing out of here before I've had my… fun."

[Locking down the Verdant Sanctuary and preventing dimensional travel within its boundaries will require 1 billion Badass Points. Does the host with to proceed?]

"One billion?" Michael raised an eyebrow, but he didn't hesitate. It was a steep price, sure, but he still had over three billion left after his recent spending spree. And besides, trapping Agra in the forest with him? That was practically a death sentence for the Chaos God. Agra was a Level 3 Greater God, while Michael was a Level 4 Prime God. And when it came to combat skills… well, let's just say it would be like putting a trained MMA fighter against a… drunken toddler.

"Do it," he confirmed, and he felt a subtle shift in the air, a faint ripple of… something… as the System locked down the forest, sealing it off from the rest of the realm.

Agra paused mid-stride, his head tilting, as if he'd sensed… something. But then he shrugged, his grin widening, and with a casual flick of his wrist, he crushed a butterfly that had landed on his shoulder. He hadn't noticed the lockdown. He'd just wanted to… kill something.

Michael, watching from above, shook his head. The guy was a goddamn psychopath.

"Time to end this," he muttered, activating Death Range.

The world around Agra plunged into darkness, the vibrant colors of the forest, the shimmering moonlight, the glowing runes on the trees… all swallowed by an impenetrable black.

"What the fuck?!" Agra exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. "Who turned off the lights?!"

And then Michael dropped, landing silently behind Agra, his presence a sudden, menacing weight in the darkness.

Agra whirled around, his eyes wide, his hand instinctively snapping up, a pulsating green light, not quite a flame, but more like… a miniature sun, flaring into existence above his palm.

In the eerie green light, Agra saw him.

A figure, clad head to toe in black armor, a skull emblem embedded in the center of its chest, a long, dark cape flowing behind it, and a hood that obscured its face. The figure was… tall. Almost seven feet, its frame bulky, imposing. Compared to it, Agra, despite his own considerable height, felt… puny.

"Who the fuck are you?" Agra asked, his gaze narrowing. "One of my… worshippers? You don't… look like one. Except for the… black, I guess."

Michael chuckled, the sound deep, guttural, almost… animalistic, amplified by the voice modulator in his helmet.

"Black doesn't belong to you, Agra," he said, his voice a low growl. "It belongs to me."

Agra's eyes widened, a flicker of… recognition… dawning in them. He'd heard descriptions of this armor, this… presence… from Andohr. And then it hit him, this was not one of his followers… this was another god.

The God of Darkness.

But instead of cowering, instead of showing even a flicker of fear, Agra laughed. It was a loud, boisterous sound, full of… manic energy. Michael had expected this. Gods… they didn't scare easily.

Agra clapped his hands, and the other replicas, the ones that had scattered through the forest, reappeared, materializing out of the darkness to surround Michael, their grins wide, their eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. They didn't attack, not yet. They simply stood there, a silent, menacing circle of… Agras, hemming Michael in.

The real Agra, still grinning, danced around Michael, his movements erratic, unpredictable.

"Well, well, well," he purred, his voice laced with a mocking amusement. "Look what the cat dragged in. The God of Darkness himself. To what do I owe this… divine visit?"

"This isn't your domain, Agra," Michael said calmly, his gaze sweeping across the circle of replicas, his voice unwavering.

"We're both gods, right?" Agra chuckled, spreading his arms wide. "Can't we all just… get along? I'm a big fan of yours, by the way. All that… chaos you've been spreading… very impressive. We're like… two peas in a pod. Evil twins, separated at birth!"

"Trust me, Agra," Michael chuckled, the sound a low, rumbling growl that sent a shiver down the spines of the surrounding cultists, "you and I are the farthest thing from… twins."

Despite being surrounded by Agra's replicas, he showed no fear or hesitation. He was the God of Darkness, a Prime God, and these pale imitations were nothing more than puppets… toys.

On the other hand, Agra, unfazed by Michael's disagreement, simply laughed.

"Oh, I'm glad you feel that way, Your Darkness," he purred, his voice laced with a mocking sweetness. "Wouldn't want you to… you know… kill your own twin, would we?"

The words, though seemingly innocuous, struck a nerve. Michael's mind flashed back to Noah, to the battle, to the… necessity… of what he'd done. He'd killed his brother and plunged the mortal realm into eternal darkness. And though he showed no outward sign of his… inner turmoil, the memory still stung, a raw wound that refused to fully heal.

Agra, mistaking Michael's silence for anger, grinned, pleased with himself. He'd gotten a reaction. He'd… rattled the God of Darkness.

"So," he asked, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "why are you here? I don't recall inviting you to the inauguration of my glorious temple."

"That temple isn't going to stand for much longer, Agra," Michael said calmly, his gaze fixed on the real Agra, ignoring the replicas that surrounded him.

Agra laughed, a harsh, barking sound.

"And why is that, Your Darkness?" he asked with a manic energy.

"Because… there's no need for a temple… to a dead god."

When Agra heard Michael, his laughter died in his throat. He stopped dancing as looked at the God of Darkness with a flicker of anger and fear in his eyes. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"A god cannot be killed, your darkness," he said, trying to hide his unease with a cackle. "Not even by the… great… God of Darkness."

"Rainar might disagree with you on that, if he were still alive," Michael chuckled, the sound cold and menacing.

The mention of Rainar, the God of Rain, made Agra pause. He remembered Andohr's words, his warning. "The Dark Lord killed Rainar, Agra. He'll kill you too, if you're not careful. Work with me, and we'll take him down together." He'd believed Andohr, of course, but a part of him, a small, nagging doubt, had lingered. Now… hearing the God of Darkness himself admit to it…

For a moment, Agra's grin faltered, the bravado he'd been projecting cracking, revealing a flicker of… uncertainty. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a renewed surge of manic energy.

"You… think you can kill me?" he asked, tilting his head, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "The God of Chaos? You can't kill chaos."

Michael shook his head, a humorless smile twisting his lips.

"I've heard worse from assholes like you, before I ended them, Agra," he said. "So let's skip the chit-chat. Unless you want to add more empty threats to your collection, and get to the… main event."

But Agra showed no sign of fighting. He simply shrugged, his grin widening.

"Killing me… it'll just create more problems and more chaos. The Pantheon, they'll be on your ass like flies on shit. And besides a world without chaos… it's… unstable. There needs to be balance. Good and evil, light and darkness, order and… well, me. And my worshippers, they'll continue my work. They'll spread chaos, fear, and destruction wherever they go. They'll kill indiscriminately. "

He paused, his gaze meeting Michael's, his voice a low, menacing whisper.

"You think killing me will stop the chaos? You're so naive. Chaos isn't like rain. It doesn't just stop when you kill the God of Rain. It's bigger than that. It's inside everyone. And I, my friend, I'll live as long as there's a single mortal left alive in this realm or any other realm in fact. Even if you destroy my physical body, I will still linger, maybe in a cockroach, or a pig or a rat...who knows...but I'll be there. Because chaos… it's eternal. Just like me"

To Agra's surprise, Michael burst out laughing. The sound, amplified and distorted by his helm, echoed through the forest, a chilling, almost demonic, roar that made even the bravest of Agra's followers take a step back.

"I killed my brother, Agra," Michael said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "The God of fucking Light. I took the light away from the mortal realm. I killed Rainar, and took the rain away from both worlds. So you think… I give a damn about… chaos? What the fuck does that even mean?"

He cracked his neck, his body radiating a cold, predatory energy that made the surrounding trees seem to… lean away from him.

"You're pathetic!" Agra screamed, his face contorted in a mask of rage and fear. "You think you can… you think you can just… walk in here and…" He trailed off, gesturing wildly at one of his replicas.

"Kill him!" he shrieked, pointing at Michael. "Rip him apart!"

The replica, grinning maniacally, lunged at Michael, its dagger flashing in the green light, aimed at his throat.

In response, Michael simply chuckled. He didn't bother with spells, with magic. Instead, he reached out, his hand a blur of motion, and grabbed the replica by the throat, his grip like iron. He squeezed, and the replica's eyes widened, its grin faltering, as its neck snapped with a sickening crunch.

Michael tossed the head aside, the severed head, its face still contorted in a manic grin, landing with a soft thud on the mossy ground. But Michael, his gaze fixed on the real Agra, didn't even spare it a second glance.

"I am going to enjoy killing you Agra,"