From Human to Skeleton: Revived with Infinite System Crystals

Chapter 116: A Deadly Grip



Chapter 116: A Deadly Grip

Ty, seeing the situation from a different angle, responded, "I don't think she wants my attention because I'm a skeleton, but more like how I'm a skeleton."

Mattison, with a scoff, brushed it off. "Doesn't matter, drinks are drinks. What happens after a few drinks is always up to fate," he said, crossing his arms and leaning his head back towards the ceiling. But then, his expression shifted to something more serious.

"I'm not really sure what's going on. But I was really hoping you'd wake up and say you killed 'him.' The bloodshed he has caused and the actions he has done... I don't know what turned him from a caring leader who loved his nation to joining up with a group like that. But he's dangerous, and I'm sure he will plan to strike again."

Ty listened, sensing the gravity of the situation. Mattison's voice trailed off, filled with exhaustion and a tinge of bitterness. "Adding in Erebos, I'm not really sure where to go from here. Even if he shows up, what good can I do after a showing like that." Mattison looked genuinely depressed, a rare glimpse into his more vulnerable side.

As Ty leaned forward to respond, a loud warning sound interrupted them. Bracken's voice came over a chrome intercom. "Okay, you two, time to get off. And don't forget, we'll get some drinks eventually, skeleton guy."

Ty's words carried the weight of his past experiences, resonating with a sense of determination born from adversity. "I understand the feeling of being helpless," he began, gripping his bony wrist as a symbol of his current form. "Back before I became this, I was nothing but an accountant trying to be better for me and my love.

I was helpless against a lot of things in life, but all I could do was grit my teeth and endure, and do whatever I could."

Mattison, listening intently, nodded slightly in acknowledgment of Ty's resolve. Rising to his feet, he offered a pragmatic perspective, "When there is nothing we can do, we must do whatever is possible." He then turned the wheel, pushing the door open, allowing a rush of air to flood in. Ty's clothes flapped in the wind, a visual testament to the new path they were embarking on.

"Well, let's go make a quick entrance," Mattison declared, the tone of his voice indicating readiness and a hint of eagerness for what lay ahead.

Ty, sharing in the sentiment, simply responded with a short, "Sure." Together, they hopped off the train, the vehicle blaring its horn as a signal of departure. It sped off at high speeds, leaving behind a trailing line of blue energy, a vibrant contrast against the sky.

As Ty descended, the wind rushed around him, an exhilarating sensation that heightened his awareness of the new environment unfolding below. He gazed upon a sprawling estate, consisting of hundreds of houses, all orbiting around a massive central mansion.

This grand building, which branched into three smaller houses on each side, was an architectural marvel, combining elegance and authority in its design. The mansion and its surrounding structures were encircled by a tranquil, circular water pond, adding to the serene yet powerful ambiance.

Prominently displayed on the mansion was the symbol proclaiming "The Altair House 3rd," a clear indication of its significance and standing within this society. The symbol, perhaps a family crest or a mark of political power, lent an air of gravitas to the building.

Ty landed about 40 feet from the mansion's entrance, his arrival almost cinematic. As he surveyed his surroundings, he noticed a collection of cars. These vehicles, reminiscent of designs from 1970s magazines, were infused with the unique technological aesthetic of this world.

Blue cords wrapped around their metal frames, giving them a futuristic look that contrasted yet complemented their retro style.

The air around Ty crackled with a sudden charge, a silent herald of impending action. His senses heightened, he caught the faintest whisper of movement—an almost imperceptible swish—just in time to sidestep gracefully. A steel blade sliced through the space where his neck had been, missing by mere inches.

His assailant, a figure cloaked in a dark blue robe, flowed like water, her long black hair trailing behind her like a shadow. In one fluid motion, she spun, her leg arcing towards Ty in a powerful kick aimed directly at his chest. Ty's hands moved with equal fluidity, catching her foot just as it threatened to connect.

But she was not deterred. From the depths of her silk robe, she produced a weapon, unlike anything Ty had seen. It was sleek, almost elegant in design, yet unmistakably deadly. The weapon hummed to life, its body thrumming with contained energy. It glowed ominously, circuits lighting up along its frame, culminating in a brilliant point of blue light at its barrel.

The air hissed as the weapon discharged. A beam of blue energy, bright and unyielding, shot out towards Ty. His reflexes took over, and he ducked, feeling the heat of the beam as it whizzed past, narrowly missing his face. It grazed the top of his skull, shearing off a fragment of bone, leaving a trace of singed air in its wake.

Reacting swiftly to the sudden assault, Ty's skeletal palm crashed against her hand with formidable force, diverting the trajectory of her second blast skyward. With a fluid motion, his other hand snaked towards her neck, black flames creeping ominously along his fingers, hinting at a dangerous power held in check.

Just as the tension reached its peak, Mattison landed beside them. "Wowowow, hold up," he interjected, his voice a mix of caution and authority.

The woman, her face flushed with a mix of exertion and embarrassment, struggled for breath under Ty's grip. "General Mattison," she gasped, her face turning a shade of blue before Ty released her. She coughed, desperately gulping in air. "Sorry, sir. I thought somehow a monster might have spawned from the ground, and went to handle it," she explained, her voice strained.

Ty, his temper flaring with a touch of cockiness, retorted, "You didn't do a good job of that now, did you?"


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