Chapter 45: The Closer One Gets to Destruction, the More One Resembles Nanook
"Combat! Exhilarating!"
Getting utterly swept up in the sheer, unadulterated thrill of demolition, Rekka accidentally cleaved the colossal space station into two jagged halves.
'Oops. Couldn't hold back.'
Could the Path of Destruction truly be this beautiful?
Actually, it wasn't an accident at all. He just really wanted to see it break.
'Damn, should have said that sooner.'
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Though sound couldn't travel through the vacuum of space, the shockwaves of his raw kinetic force rippled through the ether. Rekka's rhythm of annihilation grew faster, wilder, and entirely unhinged.
Those heavy industrial bulkheads and reinforced titanium struts, which had drifted silently through the cosmos for centuries, crumbled like cheap children's building blocks in his bare hands. A devastating left hook shattered a central reactor core; a sweeping right kick pulverized a docking bay.
First, it was a paying job. Second, it was just a fantastic hobby.
'So satisfying.''Let's use this momentum to completely vaporize the rest of the station.' He wore the deadpan, unbothered face of an immortal walking the Path of Destruction.
The demolition contract was rapidly nearing its conclusion. The once-majestic orbital facility was now nothing more than a sprawling cloud of twisted scrap metal and glittering stardust.
The primary superstructure, a behemoth that would have required elite Interstellar Peace Corporation engineering teams several months to dismantle, hadn't even lasted ten minutes against his fists.
But it wasn't enough.
Rekka needed more. He craved pure, unadulterated Destruction.
He drifted in the silent vacuum, the jagged golden crack running across his chest throbbing with a violent, rhythmic heat. It pulsed like a dying star, as if something catastrophic was desperately trying to claw its way out from beneath his ribs.
His gold-red gaze swept across the endless starry expanse, hunting for his next victim.
There. An asteroid.
It wasn't particularly massive, perhaps two or three kilometers in diameter. Just a dull, grey, crater-pocked rock drifting quietly along the periphery of the station's ruins. No life signs. No traces of ancient civilization. Just a pure, dense chunk of cosmic stone.
The perfect target.
He lunged. Under the sheer, crushing weight of his power, the asteroid instantly disintegrated. Massive tectonic fragments violently erupted outward, scattering silently into the void to form a brand-new debris belt.
It scratched the itch, but only slightly.
'Just one more. Smashing one more will definitely hit the spot, right?'
"Rekka, stop for a second..." March 7th's voice crackled through his earpiece, laced with a mix of awe and exasperation.
"I haven't demolished enough yet," Rekka muttered back, cracking his knuckles. "That rock over there looked like it was begging to be smashed. It was aggressively blocking my view."
"The way you obliterated that space station was cool and all, but if you keep going, the Interstellar Peace Corporation is going to seriously suspect you're a sleeper agent sent by the Antimatter Legion!"
Back on the Astral Express, March 7th couldn't hold back her exasperation. She had just glanced at the live chat on her streaming terminal. The viewers were going absolutely feral.
'Is Nanook personally acting as a mole now?' one comment read.
The airlock hissed open. Rekka stepped into the Parlor Car. With every heavy stride, the polished floorboards groaned, emitting a dense, metallic thud. The golden scar etched across his chest flared with a blinding, incandescent brilliance, casting harsh shadows against the warm interior of the train.
"Time for an exclusive interview! What are your thoughts on today's performance?" March 7th immediately shoved her camera lens right into his face.
Rekka stared deadpan into the lens. "Combat. Exhilarating."
"Alright, alright, stream over~" March 7th giggled, cutting the broadcast and casually tossing the terminal into her pocket. She waved a hand in front of her nose, her face scrunching up. "Go wash up. You smell like burnt metal rust and raw gunpowder from three meters away."
"The kinetic force of that final punch you used to shatter the space station's main axis far exceeded the maximum output limit of standard Interstellar Peace Corporation heavy mechs," Welt Yang noted, adjusting his glasses. He offered a professional, approving nod. "If you could permanently maintain this physical condition, it would solve quite a few of our logistical problems."
Rekka just grunted in acknowledgment, turning on his heel to head for the showers.
Himeko sat elegantly at the mahogany bar counter, sipping her coffee. Her terminal chimed with a rapid succession of notifications, Credit Points flooding into the Express's account.
"The Interstellar Peace Corporation's efficiency is certainly commendable," Himeko smiled, her eyes scanning the glowing screen. "They not only paid the agreed reimbursement expenses but also attached a rather significant bonus. It seems Rekka's enthusiastic work ethic saved them a massive sum in heavy engineering costs."
"That is indeed his forte," Dan Heng remarked. He stood leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his expression as stoic as ever. "At least for today."
The bathroom was thick with steam. Lying back in the porcelain bathtub, Rekka kept his eyes half-closed, letting the heat seep into his tired muscles. He soaked in the absolute silence for several long minutes before a sudden realization hit him.
He hadn't turned on the hot water.
'Then what exactly am I soaking in?'
Rekka snapped his eyes open. The tub wasn't filled with water. It was brimming to the edge with thick, luminous golden blood. He was casually bathing in his own vital fluids, a liquid that radiated a terrifying, scorching heat identical to molten gold.
Yet, he felt absolutely no pain. Just a deep, thrumming warmth.
He stood up, the heavy golden liquid cascading off his skin. As his bare feet hit the cold bathroom tiles, a violent hissing sound erupted instantly. Plumes of white smoke billowed upward, leaving deep, scorched footprints permanently branded into the ceramic floor.
He walked over to the sink and reached out, wiping the thick layer of steam off the mirror.
Slowly, he reined in his power. He forced the overflowing, chaotic energy of Destruction back into the depths of his body, returning his physical form to its normal state.
However, the massive golden scar stretching across his torso stubbornly continued to emit a faint, pulsing glow. The terrifying gold-red hue in his pupils hadn't completely faded either, leaving a dangerous, predatory ring around his irises.
He tried to pull at the corners of his mouth, attempting to form a normal, friendly smile. But the reflection staring back at him was twisted. No matter how he adjusted his expression, the face in the mirror looked as though it was locked in a cold, arrogant sneer.
The stronger his internal alignment with Destruction, the more his physical appearance warped to resemble Nanook.
A dangerous thought flashed through Rekka's mind.
He had a plan.
If this theory held true, he could weaponize this trait. Under specific, extreme circumstances, he could intentionally mimic Nanook's presence.
The real question was whether he actually wanted to cross that line.
And more, whether he could control it once he did.
An image flashed in his mind, the entity that had mercilessly killed him twice. A phantom golden scar seemed to superimpose itself over his face in the mirror.
'No.''Now is not the time.'
He raised a hand and flicked off the bathroom light.
Plunged into total darkness, the golden crack on his chest became the sole source of illumination in the room, brightening and dimming in perfect sync with his slow, measured breaths.
After throwing on a fresh set of clothes, he shuffled back out into the corridor, his slippers slapping softly against the floorboards.
"All washed up?" March 7th immediately popped up, leaning in close and circling him twice like an inspecting hound. "Mhm, much better. No weird smells this time. But seriously, how long were you soaking in there? I was starting to think you'd passed out and drowned."
"Just soaked for a bit," Rekka replied dismissively, waving a hand. "It was too comfortable. I lost track of time."
"Look at this, look at this!" March 7th shoved her terminal screen toward him. "This comment says you're basically a human demolition machine, and this one says you're even more ruthless than the Antimatter Legion... Hey, do you think the Corporation will actually blacklist you as a highly dangerous individual?"
"They won't," Himeko's gentle voice drifted over from the bar. "I've already confirmed the details with our Corporation liaison. They are exceedingly satisfied with Rekka's work efficiency. They even asked if we could focus on him for this specific type of planetary clearance next time."
"Well, my efficiency is certainly high," Rekka said, dropping heavily onto the plush velvet sofa.
"You're just enjoying the process of breaking things, aren't you," Dan Heng sighed softly.
Outside the arched windows, the endless starry sky flowed by in a quiet, majestic river of light. The shattered metal debris of the space station had long since been left far behind in their wake.
Inside, the warm, amber glow of the Parlor Car enveloped everything. The cheerful sound of March 7th's laughter, the soft rustling of Himeko turning the pages of her book, the quiet hum of the Express's engine...
To Rekka's heightened senses, these subtle, domestic sounds were exceptionally clear. They grounded him.
He could still feel the primal instinct of Destruction surging deep within his marrow, but compared to the overwhelming, violent urge to tear the universe apart just an hour ago, it had settled into a gentle, manageable hum.
"Rekka."
"Hm?" He tilted his head back against the cushions.
"That wound on your chest today..." March 7th pointed a finger at her own collarbone, her usual bubbly tone shifting into something softer, more hesitant. "It looks a bit scary. Does it hurt?"
Rekka glanced down. The jagged golden crack was still faintly visible, glowing just beneath the edge of his collar.
"It doesn't hurt." He shook his head, offering a small, reassuring smile. "It hurt like hell at the very beginning, but now it just looks intimidating."
Pain... he was more than used to it by now.
However, he really didn't want his found family to spend their days worrying about him.
"That's a relief." March 7th let out a long, exaggerated sigh, her shoulders dropping. "I honestly thought something terrible was going to happen to you again today. The manic way you were smashing things out there... I was genuinely afraid you were going to accidentally smash yourself to pieces too."
"Smash myself?" Rekka paused, blinking, before bursting into genuine laughter. "I'm not an idiot, March."
"Who knows!" March 7th pouted, crossing her arms. "Didn't you almost get yourself killed last time when you randomly shifted into the Path of Erudition? And what about the time before that, when you turned into a giant bug from the Propagation? Such a huge, gross bug..."
"That was a complete accident."
"It's always an accident with you!" She huffed, though a fond smile tugged at her lips. "Forget it. Just remember that everyone here has your back. But you need to put in a little effort to keep yourself safe, too."
"Okay." Rekka nodded, his gaze softening as he looked around the warm cabin. "I'll try my best."
"Trying your best isn't enough! You have to promise!"
"Alright, alright," he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "I promise."
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