Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 642

Chapter 642 Soft Spot

Atticus was the sort of person who would watch a beast devour someone and do absolutely nothing about it, especially if it would compromise his safety.

He wouldn't feel sad or guilty—he wouldn't feel anything at all. However, he was currently experiencing a lot of emotions as he stared at the mother and daughter pair.

Deep down, Atticus knew exactly why he was feeling this way.

It wasn't because it was a young girl; Atticus had never cared about gender. Instead, it was something different. If not for today, even he wouldn't have expected that he had a soft spot for something like this.

Why was Atticus feeling this way? Simply put, seeing a mother protect and put her child first despite the situation reminded him of his own mother, Anastasia. He couldn't help but feel pity for the woman.

It also made him realize something else: his earlier thinking had been flawed. He had planned on killing everyone in this space and hadn't actually considered the fact that many might be here unwillingly, captured and enslaved.

Humans were naturally complex beings, and Atticus was just beginning to understand that.

However, there was no doubt about it—he was very clear about his next course of action.

His eyes, ice-cold, turned and landed on the hunters laughing and drinking in the hall without any care in the world.

Just as the two women continued serving the food and drinks in the kitchen, the lights in the building flickered, the roaring fire in the middle of the room snuffed out.

The hunters, caught up in the boisterous atmosphere, didn't notice at first. But when the lights suddenly went out, plunging the hall into darkness, the laughter died instantly.

"What the hell?" one of the hunters growled, fumbling for a weapon. The others reacted on instinct, and at that moment, they knew something was wrong.

They were hunters who had honed their senses over the years. They were used to being the hunters, but they also knew how it felt to be the prey.

Before anyone could react, flashes of blue and red light suddenly erupted through the hall, illuminating the room in a chaotic strobe effect.

The flashes were accompanied by the sounds of deadly, precise strikes—followed by sudden shouts and then the sickening thud of bodies hitting the floor.

"We're under attack!"

"Someone get to the lights!"

"Ultor! Use your bloodline and let us see this piece of shit!"

Despite being thoroughly drunk, the intensity of the moment sobered them quickly.

Screams filled the air as the hunters scrambled to defend themselves, but it was futile.

The only thing they saw was a streak of red before heads were severed and rolled on the ground.

Atticus moved like a phantom through the darkness, his blade cutting through the hunters with brutal efficiency and ease. Not a single one of them was able to activate their bloodline or abilities.