[Annie Position] Shit, he is dead! That came out of nowhere,
[Tara Diikoff] Wait, the stream is still going, which means the cameras are still working.
[YourDaddy] Lol, that made me jump.
[Dragonboy] Look, the dust is disappearing
The stream didn't vanish with the explosion; instead, it stayed live, the smoke and dust slowly clearing to reveal David standing in the bathroom. He had just flushed the toilet and was calmly washing his hands, completely unharmed. Those watching were stunned—the house, though heavily damaged and scorched in places, was still standing.
"Looks like I can expand my powers to cover a greater range," David said with a faint smile. He had extended Infinity throughout the entire house, forming a protective barrier around it. Of course, spreading it so wide had weakened its strength compared to the one surrounding his own body, but it was still strong enough to absorb the brunt of the explosion and keep the structure from collapsing entirely.
As for how he knew the house was going to explode? That was simple. His senses were razor-sharp—an overwhelming mix of Gojo's perception and Yujiro's monstrous awareness. Together, they made him nearly impossible to catch off guard. The moment he sensed the faint flicker of killing intent in the air, he reacted instantly, pushing Infinity to its limit and expanding it to cover the entire house. His timing had been perfect—it shielded him from the explosion while conveniently keeping the more private part of his moment off-camera.
With that handled, David stepped outside, his expression calm but focused. In a flash, he appeared several blocks away, directly in front of a ninja attempting to flee the scene. The assassin froze for a split second before trying to take his own life, but David moved faster. In an instant, he closed the distance and grabbed the ninja by the neck, stopping him cold.
"So, I'm curious," David said with a relaxed smile, his tone calm yet chilling. "I know they trained you well… but how much pain can you take before that brainwashing they put you through finally breaks?"
Without waiting for an answer, he gripped the ninja's arms and legs and snapped them one by one, ensuring there was no chance for escape or suicide. Bones cracked sharply, the sound echoing through the quiet night, yet the ninja didn't make a sound.
Their eyes met—David's glowing faintly behind his blindfold, the ninja's hidden beneath dark blue gear that covered every inch of his body. Even with all four limbs shattered, the assassin remained completely still. There was no screaming, no flinching, not even a twitch. It was as if pain itself had been erased from his senses.
"Well, let's remove this," David said casually as he reached forward and tore away the ninja's clothing. Instantly, the disguise fell apart, revealing a Chinese man beneath—his body a map of old scars and burns, proof of years of torture and conditioning.
"Wow," David muttered, studying him for a moment. "I'm guessing they kidnapped you when you were just a kid and started the brainwashing early. Well… there's no saving you now. I highly doubt you even want to be saved."
He exhaled softly, loosening his arm. Then, in a blur of motion, he struck the assassin's body with an open-handed slap. The impact sent a shockwave through the man's nervous system, and for the first time, a strangled, broken cry tore out of his throat.
The assassin screamed uncontrollably, his body twisting and jerking across the ground like a worm caught in salt, thrashing helplessly as though every nerve had caught fire. His movements were frantic, more instinct than control, his body convulsing with such force that the sound of his strained breath mixed with the sharp gasps of agony.
David vanished in a blink, giving the man a few seconds to writhe before reappearing. This time, he returned with a can of soda in one hand and a metal chair in the other. He placed the chair down, sat back, and cracked open the can, the fizzing sound cutting through the assassin's broken cries. Leaning back, he took a slow sip, his calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the chaos before him.
"You can remember how to speak if I slap you enough times, right?" David said casually, glancing at the man squirming in the dirt. "All that training means nothing when it's met with the pain of a good slap. So—where can I find your master?"
He took another drink, his expression unreadable. The assassin, once too hardened to feel, was now trembling violently. His breath came in ragged bursts, his mind shattering under the weight of pain he could no longer suppress. For the first time in years, the man who had forgotten how to cry felt tears wetting its mask… the feeling made it remember the past, hundreds of years ago, when Ra's Al Ghul began training him when he was but a boy. He had forgotten how many times he had died, just for the man to bring him back to life to harden him.
"Ra's… Al… Ghul," the assassin finally managed to whisper, his voice broken and weak. The words barely made it past his trembling lips. David's slap hadn't been a normal one—it had been aimed to strike not just flesh, but the soul itself. Every ounce of the pain he inflicted was designed to bypass all the conditioning, all the years of torture and brainwashing that had buried the man's humanity beneath obedience.
"Try to speak," David said softly, almost conversational. "I can read the vibrations through your throat." A faint smile crossed his face as he focused, his gaze fixed sharply on the man's neck. The assassin tried to form words, his voice failing him completely, but the faint quiver of his throat was enough. David read every vibration, understanding exactly what the man was trying to say without him having to utter another word.
"Good," David said quietly after a moment. "Now I'll allow you to die." His tone was light, as though he were merely stating a fact rather than passing judgment.
"T-hank you," the assassin whispered, his voice faint and trembling. In the very next instant, his body caved in on itself—a sudden, merciful collapse that ended his life before he even realized what had happened.
[Eric Shun] — This shouldn't be allowed for the world to watch. Kids are watching this.
[Peter File] — This is hard to watch… it feels like seeing an entirely different world unfold right in front of us.
[CandyLover] — I respected David for everything he did… but after seeing this, I can't look at him the same anymore, he should be locked away.
[StarOverlord] — I can't do this. Maybe it's better that the assassin is dead; maybe he'd been brainwashed since childhood… but still, I can't stomach it.
The world's reaction was split. Some were horrified, others conflicted, and a few quietly accepted what had just happened. Regardless of opinion, the stream continued, following David as he picked up the hovering cameras and vanished in a blink. Within moments, he reappeared in a region blanketed by winter, snow falling heavily and carpeting the ground in a thick, glistening white.
David gave the snow-covered land below a quick, sweeping scan, his gaze sharpening as his senses locked onto a spot overflowing with negative energy. Without hesitation, he teleported, reappearing on solid ground.
With calm, unhurried steps, he began walking forward. Each movement carried quiet confidence as he approached a large hill that loomed ahead. As he advanced, the earth seemed to bend beneath his feet, the hill in his path warping inward under the sheer power of Infinity. David didn't pause or adjust his pace—he simply kept walking as if the hill wasn't there at all. Within seconds, the entire formation cracked apart, crumbling away, unable to withstand him.
The broken slope opened to reveal a hidden passageway beneath the snow. Standing guard were dozens of ninjas, their swords drawn. David's expression didn't change. He casually took another sip of his drink and strolled forward, completely ignoring the armed warriors blocking his way.
The ninjas lunged all at once, blades flashing through the air, but their strikes met nothing. Every swing froze inches from his body, halted by Infinity. No matter how many times they attacked, they couldn't so much as graze him. Their movements grew more frantic, desperation bleeding into every strike, while David walked on leisurely, sipping his soda as if he were merely enjoying an afternoon stroll.
David continued walking forward, completely unconcerned about the solid wall ahead. The moment he reached it, the structure bent inward under the sheer force of his presence, stone and steel groaning before shattering apart. He stepped through effortlessly, debris falling around him as he entered a concealed chamber deep within the mountain.
Inside, seated before a large screen showing the ongoing stream, was none other than Ra's Al Ghul himself. The ancient leader's composure faltered for the briefest moment when David appeared without warning.
"Wow, to think you were a fan," David said with a faint, amused smile. "But I'm not giving you an autograph."
Ra's Al Ghul said nothing, his face calm yet pale. David, however, could sense it—the fear buried deep within him. And it made sense. Ra's Al Ghul prided himself on his methods, his training, his absolute control. His assassins were conditioned to withstand pain beyond comprehension, to laugh in the face of torture. Yet somehow, one casual slap from David had undone years of conditioning in an instant.
He would have fled if he could, but it was already too late. David's arrival had been too fast. There was nowhere to run, for David would just easily catch him… plus, he was scared that David might get the crazy idea of slapping him.