Chapter 216: 216. SECOND WEB

“What makes you think I care if you kill her or not?” Sagiri breathed an irritated sigh.

A moment of silence stretched before Sagiri spoke again.

“It is truly pathetic seeing warriors who are supposed to protect using the life of another to bargain,” Sagiri said, shaking his head. The pain from the black rot coursing through his body was making him more irritable, and he did not have time to sit and chat. He needed to kill them quickly and find some water to jump into.

“Do you think I am bluffing?” the captain said in a threatening voice.

“Whether you kill her or not, you are dying here tonight. All of you are.” Sagiri said, and he meant it. “She is just my prisoner, and she tried to kill me first. What makes you think I care about someone who tried to kill me?” Sagiri sighed.

The air snapped, and tension rose. Suddenly, something moved beside Sagiri. He could have missed it if he were not using his right eye. Before he could move, however, the colourless thread wrapped his arm.

The binding thread?

Sagiri had learned about those in the central Pentagon library. It was not that they were a secret, but they were rarely used. They wrap around limbs instantly and tighten the more one moves. He didn’t think they would move, and when he saw them, they were already tightening on both his hands, thin strands biting into his skin as they constricted.

His power surged and died.

“What?”

For a fraction of a second. His eyes widened.

No way.

He tore free, ripping the threads apart, but they didn’t break clean. They resisted, like they were alive, clinging, draining. These were not the normal binding threads. This must have been special to the seventh wing and the fourth wing. They were used to bind anyone or any beast anomalies with magical power or any power of any kind. The chains used to shackle Myama must have been coated with whatever was in the binding strings. Sagiri wanted to wait and see how far they could bind him before reacting, but his skin was burning enough to roast raw meat till it was crisp.

The first thread came for his throat, thin and nearly invisible in the dark, but Sagiri caught it just in time and dropped low, his body twisting as it sliced through the space where his neck had been. He barely recovered before two more snapped toward him from opposite sides, forcing him to pivot sharply, his boots grinding against the uneven floor as he redirected his movement.

They weren’t firing blindly. They were trying to close him in. So this is why the captain was yapping all along. He was typing to buy them time.

Threads began to layer over each other, crossing at precise angles, cutting off escape routes before he could even take them. Sagiri stepped forward and stopped abruptly as three lines formed in front of him, another dragging low toward his legs while one curled in from behind. For a brief moment, he didn’t move, and he kept his head low.

“Nokai!” he called. The weapon had been pulsing violently with killing intent ever since he woke up, and it snapped free from the

Before the nest thread reached him, it split cleanly in two. Nokai tore through the strings in a split second. They snapped, but before the wielders could pull them back or prepare for another attack, Nokai rested in his hand.

“This is irritating,” Sagiri breathed. He moved instantly, stepping into the narrowing space from the dozens of threads coming at him. Nokai flashed once, slicing through two incoming threads before they could touch him this time. Another came for his side, fast and low, but he turned into it and cut it apart in the same motion, not wasting a single movement.

More followed. The air filled with them, threads weaving over and under each other, forming a tightening cage that adapted with every step he took. Sagiri didn’t retreat. Instead, he pushed forward, his movements becoming sharper, more deliberate as he carved a path through them. One snapped toward his face, close enough that he felt it skim the air in front of his eyes, but Nokai rose in a precise arc and split it before it could touch him. Another wrapped toward his arm, attempting to coil and bind, but he shifted his weight and cut it before it closed.

They were getting more violent. The wielders did not want to lose the upper hand. His sleeve tore as one grazed past, and he felt the near miss, but he didn’t slow. His breathing stayed steady, his focus narrowing as every step became calculated. The threads might not have been much to tame him, but they were a nuisance indeed coming from all directions as if they could smell the power in his body. He managed to hold his ground and have the upper hand, but then the pattern changed.

The wilders were ruthless, and it seemed that they had done this a thousand times before, and they had trained their formations to perfection. They did not leave any loopholes in their defence. The spacing widened, then tightened again from different angles as the operators adjusted, learning his rhythm and attempting to trap him faster than he could respond.

“Lock him!”

The command cut through the darkness. His attackers were strategically positioned in ten positions. A perfect circle. All of them shooting threads into a single point.

Him.

Sagiri stepped forward again. He jumped in the air and twisted his body. The dust around him rose. He swung Nokai around in circular motion, cutting the strings, but even when they were cut, the wielder just unwound them, and they kept getting longer. The only way to get out of the stupid formation was to kill the wielders. With the power surging inside Sagiri, he roared in irritation and shot into the air. The threads followed him as he expected they could, but he was faster this time.

Nokai pulsed in his hand. The first man didn’t react in time. Sagiri crossed the distance in an instant and cut through him in one clean motion, the blade passing through both weapon and body without resistance.

He didn’t stop. As he went on an arch, the threads still followed him. The second turned too late, raising his launcher just as Sagiri reached him, but Nokai came down and split his head in half. The third tried to fire, but Sagiri cut the thread as it left the barrel, then followed through, finishing him before he could recover. The formation required all ten thread weavers to be perfect, and now it was crippled. They changed from attacking to defending themselves.

It was too late.

Sagiri moved along the edge of the circle they had built, his pace controlled, his movements precise as he dismantled them one by one. One tried to retreat, firing wildly in panic, but the thread split in mid-air before it could reach him, and Sagiri was already in front of him when it happened.

He cut his head clean off. They must not have expected him to move that fast, and there was a distinct smell of fear as he tore through all ten in a split second, not allowing them any chance for escape. By the time the last one understood what was happening, Sagiri was already standing inside the formation they had created. The man’s grip trembled as he raised his weapon, hesitation finally breaking through his training.

“He is a monster!” The man’s voice trembled

Sagiri stepped forward once.

Nokai flashed.

And it was over. The place fell silent as the threads that had managed to circle him lost tension and dropped lifelessly to the ground, one after another.

“Now, captain. Are you ready to join your comrades?” Sagiri said with a voice filled with humour. The pain inside of him was driving him mad, and the squad was going to pay for it.

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