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Chapter 483 A competition of Stamina[Bonus chapter]

Mr. Martin had never seen this weapon Lenny was using before. After all, he was not from an era where it was functional.

However, it was still clear to him that it was made of iron and looked to be a sword. As far as he was concerned, the results would still be the same.

It was only going to be a few chops, and that would be it.

However, Lenny waved his hands, and goggles appeared that he fixed on his face appropriately. "Let me ask you, Mr. Martin. Do you feel pain when you are cut?"

"Does it matter? I heal immediately."

"Oh! but you do. I assure you, tears by chainsaw are as memorable as your best sex!

Lenny immediately activated Rapid dog, his muscles bulged, and his speed immediately increased.

He rushed for the abominable Mr. Martin, arriving at the big chuck of flesh that was his center.

The grinding pain as his flesh was sawed off was nothing like Mr. Martin had ever experienced in his life.

It was one thing to be cut by a sword and another thing to be cut by a chainsaw.

Both of them were blades, but a comparison of both was like the difference between black and white.

A cut by a sword was similar to that of a knife. Most people, if not all, in the wastelands at one point or another had that experience.

It was nothing to endure the pain of a normal knife.

However, the moment that Lenny placed the Jaggered saw teeth of the Chainsaw on the excessively available flesh that made up Mr. Martins, a deep groaning scream was heard.

The deafening roar of the chainsaw sliced through the air, drowning out all other sounds. It vibrated violently in Lenny's hands as he controlled its monstrous power.

As the chainsaw made merry with Mr. Martin's body,

Time seemed to slow as a rush of agony engulfed him.

The world blurred, and he felt an icy rush of fear.

The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced—a fiery, throbbing sensation that seemed to penetrate to his very core. It was as if his entire existence had been reduced to this one excruciating moment.

Blood, warm and sticky, began to bathe the surrounding area, and Mr. Martin could hear his own rapid heartbeat in his ears.

His breaths suddenly came in ragged gasps as he fought the hunger to scream out like an abused slave.

His mind raced with thoughts of the danger he was in, the desperate need for help, and the surreal nature of his predicament. In that moment, the pain was not just physical but a visceral realization of the fragility of life itself.

The chainsaw's growl persisted in the background as he instinctively tried to back away.

It was not a problem for him to heal, but such pain from the ever-rotating teeth of the chainsaw, ever glad to show their affection by literally grinding into flesh, was a relentless reminder of the peril he had been thrown into.

However, there was more.

As Lenny sawed off the flesh from his body, it did not touch the ground but disappeared instantly.

It all went to his storage unit.

Lenny had not been sure at first, but he tried it anywhere, and it worked incredibly well.

The storage unit of the system does not accept living creatures.

However, Lenny had always been curious as to the definition of that sentence. After all, they were people, so the moment he killed them, he immediately placed them in the system, and whenever he brought them out, they were always as fresh as when he placed them in the storage unit.

This meant that things in the storage were always in some kind of suspended animation. That is, time did not exist in the storage unit.

Aside from this, the cells of the people he killed were brought back as they went in.

Since there was no way that all the cells of a person that was just killed died immeiately, it was safe to assume that the definition of life in the rule for what could go into the storage unit was not what was literally still alive, but rather an entity with a living soul.

Mr. Martin could control cells outside his body, but once disconnected from the main body, it was no longer housing a soul.

This meant, in theory, according to the law of the storage unit, that Lenny could store the flesh even though Mr. Martin still had control over it.

It was not long before Mr. Martin suddenly discovered that his pounds of flesh were going missing.

No matter how he ate to heal, it was of no use. Although Mr. Martin claimed that he could heal infinitely, that was only true for the number of people sewn to the wall.

However, Lenny, on the other hand, truly had infinite space in the storage unit of the Satan system.

Even if there were a hundred of Mr. Martin, he could forever chop him into little bits and dump him into the storage unit.

However, at the same time, there was still the problem of the cells that had been inserted into Lenny's body and the matter of him pushing his body with a rabid dog, even though he was using only one lung.

Lenny was truly strong, but the current weight on his shoulder was like a man stranded at a stormy sea, with his legs anchored to a huge boulder pulling him under.

At this point, it had suddenly become a competition for intense stamina.

...

At another point in this big warehouse, Victor ran through the dilapidated corridors as an old woman with no eyes managed to pursue him.

She navigated the Wear house as if her eyes were still very functional, "Come out, come out, little one."