Chapter 373: Taking A Breather

Chapter 373: Taking A Breather



That cannon must prove no adversary.

Elijah was fully prepared for it...

The Reaper would not fail the Devil!

He pushed his hands forward and chanted:

"Distant Grasp!"

Every bit of his remaining Aether was funneled into this desperate gambit.

The small rocket within the barrel began to move, inching forward slowly as his Aether wrapped around it, restraining it.

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a countdown to the moment of truth.

The rocket trembled, straining against the invisible force holding it back.

Sweat poured down his face, his focus unwavering despite the suffocating heat and stench surrounding him.

The beast's throat was tightening even further, crushing him, but he held firm, his eyes locked on the glowing Aether Core, the source of the creature's power.

Time seemed to stretch out, each second feeling like a thousand.

But then...

It all stopped.

The rocket paused.

Suspended in the barrel, its lethal charge held in check by Elijah's Aether.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!

Then, with a flash and a deafening growl, the rocket exploded.

The force of the blast reverberated through the Cannonjaw's throat, shattering the cannon and sending shrapnel flying.

Its flesh expanded fully, and Elijah was thrown backward, the impact slamming him against the walls of the beast's throat.

Pain shot through his body, but he refused to give in.

The explosion had done more than just destroy the cannon; it had disrupted the Cannonjaw's internal mechanisms.

Sparks flew and fluids leaked, the construct's insides now a chaotic mess.

That caused a seemingly never-ending rumble to spread through its body, and the insides where Elijah stood were no exception.

In fact, it was where all the power was concentrated, as its throat roughly shook.

The flesh suddenly closed in on him, tightening around his body, threatening to crush him like earlier.

Elijah didn't wait for that to happen, he pushed himself to his feet despite the searing pain. With each step towards the Cannonjaw's core, the crushing force grew stronger, as if gravity itself planned to flatten him into a pancake, much like the construct had done to Junior.

The pain was just that excruciating.

Every part of his body-his head, arms, legs, stomach, and back-felt as though it was being relentlessly squeezed, forcing him down to the meaty ground.

The pressure intensified quickly, reaching a point where even his arteries, veins, and blood vessels felt constricted.

His vision blurred, and dizziness overcame him, along with a host of other debilitating effects that sent him to a near-death state.

Breathing became a struggle, each huff a reminder of the unyielding force bearing down on him.

Some might've felt that death was a better outcome.

But he didn't.

That thought didn't even cross his mind.

His goal was within his grasp, and he wasn't about to let go just because of 'some' pain.

That mentality of his was ingrained due to the harsh training he received under Lyra and Emir.

So, like back then, he grunted out his effort and quickened his pace as best as he could, slithering like a snake.

And then, with a final, desperate pull, Elijah reached the core.

He crawled through the last of its slippery meat as he plunged his dagger into the core, twisting it with all his remaining strength.

Fsssshh-BOOM!

There was a blinding flash of light, followed by an earth-shaking implosion.

They didn't, continuing forward.

"Listen!"

Their ears acted deaf, taking his words in one way and out the other.

"Please! It's important!"

They seemed to not know what that word meant.

"...We have a reward for you!"

But that one they did.

It perked up their ears and slowed their steps.

They gave the man a bit of face, while still not stopping, as they were heading to the trauma

team respondents near the exits.

"What is it?"

"Better make it worth our blood!"

"...Hm?"

Smiling with returned confidence, the man jogged for a second till he reached them and then

matched their pace, used to being treated in such a way.

"That Cub would've ruined an entire week's profit at a minimum if you didn't stop it when you did. So with that in mind, combined with the bounty for killing it, the reward we decided

to give you amounted to one Valora per person."

That was seven coins.

Seven Veez.

Seven billion UC.

An insane amount.

But to them?

The Elite and Azazel?

That was nothing.

Well, with the exception of Quinn.

She had little to no money before Emir sponsored her.

Now anyone worth their salt would've reached that conclusion, meaning that it wouldn't have

been missed by HQ.

So before they could react with displeasure, the man continued:

"But as we know that money is no object to you, we managed to get our hands on a few twenty

percent off coupons that could be used for any transaction with the Big Eight."

Jake grinned, Emma smiled, and Sofia subtly nodded her head.

"Now we're talking!"

"That 'few' better be seven!"

"Good."

The man clasped his hands at those reactions, seeing it as an opportune moment to bring in

the infamous 'but.'

"But in return, we want you to sign an NDA about what happened there."

The three looked at him, then looked at each other, and then the two girls turned to Jake,

asking the obvious.

"Sure. Let's see if he replies."

Using his HUD which was connected to his terminal, he scrolled through his contacts and

called up Emir.

It rang once, twice, and a third, stopping at the fourth as the call was connected.