I Own EVERY Class in This World: Life Set to HELL Mode!

Chapter 380 Perfect Counter, Follower's Death and Humiliation

The tension in the air was suffocating.

Follower's claws were now embedded in Stark's chest, blackened tendrils of demonic energy wrapping around his heart.

His twisted smile stretched wider as he sneered at Stark.

"This is the end, Chosen. Any last words before I tear your heart out?"

"You really shouldn't do that," Stark replied with his usual smirk, the confidence in his voice unshaken.

Follower's laughter boomed through the battlefield. "Haha! Still acting tough? You'll suffer for your arrogance!"

Stark didn't respond. He didn't need to.

[Initiating 'Demon Devouring'!]

[5 seconds until "Chosen's" death.]

"Haha, I win," Follower declared with glee.

The world held its breath as Follower activated his most iconic skill.

[4...]

The classifiers surrounding the battlefield gasped audibly. They had been reluctant to interfere, watching helplessly as Stark faced off against the monstrosity alone.

Now, dread settled over them as the countdown began.

"He's actually going to kill him..." one of the observers murmured.

[3...]

Sora and Lilith, who had been running for safety, stopped in their tracks, their instincts screaming at them to turn back.

"No… Stark!" Sora gasped.

Lilith clutched her chest, her crimson aura flickering in distress.

[2...]

Across the world, countless screens broadcast the battle.

Powerhouses from the Domination Association, guilds, and even ordinary civilians sat glued to their screens.

The sight of Follower crushing Stark's heart sent shockwaves across the globe. Stay updated through empire

[1...]

At that moment, Stark opened one eye, his smile growing wider. His crimson aura rippled faintly, and his breathing steadied, as though he were completely at ease.

"Time to play," he muttered.

Activating [Time Flow], Stark slowed the world to a crawl. The final second stretched out, giving him an eternity to act.

Within this bubble of slowed time, his mind raced. His new skill was about to be tested, and he couldn't afford for it to fail.

The aura around his heart surged, creating a faint, shimmering barrier of crimson energy.

And then…

[0...]

COUNTER!

A deafening silence fell over the battlefield. The world seemed to hold its breath.

[Death.]

[Chosen's heart has been destroyed.]

-99,999,999!

The notification flashed above their heads, stark and undeniable.

Follower cackled maniacally, pulling his claws free from Stark's chest.

"HAHAHA, I WIN!" He spread his arms wide, basking in his supposed triumph. "DID YOU SEE THIS, GODLESS? APOSTLES? THE WORLD? I WIN!"

Stark staggered, falling to his knees.

Blood dripped from the gaping wound in his chest, staining the ground beneath him.

And yet, his smirk never disappeared. His aura crackled faintly, like embers refusing to die.

Follower turned, addressing the classifiers huddled nearby, their weapons trembling in their hands.

"And now," he declared, "enjoy the show." He gestured to the live cameras.

He raised his [Darkness Blade], its edge pulsating with malicious energy.

"Your execution, Chosen, broadcast live for all to see. A fitting end for a pathetic hero."

The classifiers recoiled, their fear palpable. None dared to move closer.

As Follower approached Stark from behind, his steps deliberate and heavy, he paused.

"But before I finish you off, I have a question."

"What is it?" Stark replied, his voice weak but still carrying a hint of amusement, almost as if he was faking it.

"Why are you still smiling?" Follower's grin faltered slightly. "You know your heart was destroyed, right? You've got maybe thirty seconds left to live. The only thing keeping you upright is that pitiful domination aura of yours."

"..."

Follower raised his blade, "I'll decapitate you the moment you feel the immense pain of [Demon Devouring], as killing you right now would make it too easy and merciful for your kind."

Everyone in the outside world was at the edge of their seats: what Follower was saying was true, Stark's heart was supposed to be destroyed, and the -99,999,999 damage text even appeared above them to prove it.

So why was the boy so confident?

"Thirty seconds? I'll give you ten before you realize your mistake." Stark coughed, a thin line of blood dribbling from his lips.

"It's already starting," Follower's confidence returned as he saw the blood, "How foolish, now let's begin... Chosen's execution."

"Five seconds," Stark continued, the vortex of aura in his eyes growing more and more.

"Huh."

"4."

"I'm going to murder your two girlfriends after having them watch me decapitate you," Follower's confidence wavered a little.

"3."

"I'm going to make sure they suffer as much as possible, more than you could ever imagine."

"2."

"You have no future. Forget having a house, a wife or even children, none of that will happen to you."

"1..."

Stark turned his gaze toward Follower's, and when he saw it, the fanatic's entire confidence wavered, sweat dripping from his brow and his pupils shaking.

"Why aren't you afraid?!" Follower roared, his composure crumbling.

Stark leaned forward, his voice a low whisper. "One. Enjoy your death, dumbass."

Chosen was supposed to die, so why is he smiling? Why is his smile this wide? Why am I not the one that's smiling?

'What's happening?!'

Follower's hands trembled on the hilt of his blade, sweat trickling down his temple. Stark's smirk had grown into a full-blown grin, his eyes burning with crimson energy.

In the end, Follower felt like causing suffering to that boy was not necessary if it meant continuing his chaos, and so he raised his [Darkness Blade] more.

"THIRD AND FINAL TOTAL ANNIHILATION," he shouted, ready to destroy everything around him.

Darkness engulfed him, his corrupted aura swelling to catastrophic levels. The classifiers scattered, screaming in terror as the ground split and the air twisted unnaturally.

He truly wanted to end Chosen, no matter what.

And then... he swung.

"HOLY SHIT!"

"Watch out!!!"

"RUN!"

Both the classifiers around Stark and the people outside, all across the globe, were in shock, terrified at the sight.

Stark on the other hand didn't even bother moving, he didn't have any tricks this time: he simply waited.

People thought he was insane.

But suddenly... before the [Darkness Blade] reached him... Follower's body suddenly froze mid-swing.

"Goodbye, Follower," Stark said softly.

"Huh?" Follower was still conscious, able to move his face, but his other limbs weren't responding, and his hands, which were holding the darkness blade only a few centimeters away from Stark's face, wouldn't budge at all, "WHAT IS HAPPENING."

Stark stepped forward, brushing dust off his shoulder. "You're dead, that's all."

"That's nonsense!" Follower roared, but a violent cough interrupted him. Blood splattered the ground as he glanced down.

At that moment, Follower finally understood what happened.

"There's no way..." the priest was too scared to look down, as it would mean accepting the reality of the situation.

"Look down," Stark spoke, "You already know there's nothing anyway, you can't move."

"Shut... up..." he tried as hard as he could to move, but with no results whatsoever, he was truly stuck, his body not responding to his commands.

That new form, granted to him by Lord Godless himself, wasn't responding.

And the only way such a form, which was invincible normally, wouldn't work anymore... was that it's heart was destroyed.

"..." and so, Follower looked down.

To his horror, a gaping hole now marred his chest where his heart should have been.

As expected, it wasn't there.

"No... way..."

In Stark's vision, a panel had appeared.

[Counter successful, dealt 99,999,999 damage as counter to opponent.]

"No… no way..." Follower gasped, collapsing to his knees.

Follower's aura was dying, and so that meant Stark could easily overpower it.

And so Stark didn't stop there. His grin turned almost cruel as he raised his hand, "Banish Game."

"NO!" Follower tried to reach for Stark, but all he did was lay himself flat on the ground, "DON'T!"

"Sorry, can't hear you from down below."

[Banish Game initiated.]

[Loser gets sent to the void.]

[You already know the rules, good luck.]

The match ended almost immediately: Follower tried to control his aura, but the little from it that was left was NOT enough to even make Stark's budge, meaning that Stark's crimson aura easily overwhelmed him, surrounding the godless fanatic.

[Winner: Chosen.]

But that wasn't enough for Stark, not even close.

And so he continued the torture.

Chains of crimson light erupted from Stark's aura, binding Follower's limbs and dragging him into the air. Then with a flick of his wrist, Stark created a massive crimson cross.

"You..." Follower cough more blood, sensing that his end was near after his heart got destroyed, even in his new transformation, "..."

He nailed Follower's arms to the cross with sharp spikes of crimson energy.

"My masterpiece," Stark smiled, looking at the crucified Follower, "And now you go!"

Under the corrupted priest appeared a dark portal: the void was calling for him now that he lost.

"NO! NO! NOOOO!" Follower screamed as the void began to consume him, dragging both him and the cross downward, just slow enough for him to see Stark's grin on full view.

"Bye bye," Stark said with a mock wave.

"YOU WON'T WIN, CHOSEN, GODLESS WILL PREVAIL!"

"Sure thing."

He didn't even have the time to reply that the portal closed with a deafening crack, silencing Follower's cries forever.

And so with that, all of Stark's worries were over.

Ding!

[You have slain "Follower, Godless Fanatic", gaining 500,000,000 experience points!]

"Wow, that's a lot."