If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end with doubts, but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.
~ Francis Bacon
_____
Everything on The Boys side is pretty much arranged.
Next, all that’s left is to wait for the holy war. Hillel thought.
At night.
Central City apartment.
Hillel was holding Annie in his arms on the left and resting next to Maeve on the right, the three of them sleeping soundly.
It could be said to be a time of quiet peace.
Right at that moment, the system prompt sounded in Hillel’s mind.
[The Holy War is about to begin.]
[Countdown: 60 seconds.]
Hillel’s sleepiness instantly vanished.
It’s coming! It’s about to come!!
He didn’t disturb the two people beside him, just slowly opened his eyes, and used a force field to open the freezer at the top of the refrigerator, casually grabbing two bottles of Compound V.
One bottle each of temporary and permanent Compound V.
Hillel wasn’t sure if this stuff could travel through time and space with him; just in case he could bring it along, he would make a killing.
Invincible World technology could utterly crush The Boys Universe.
Take two bottles of medicine over there to improve them.
[Countdown: 3, 2, 1...]
[The Holy War begins.]
The next instant.
Hillel felt himself being torn apart by an invisible, mighty force.
The World was spinning.
When Hillel stood steady again, that soft bed, along with the tender and fragrant flesh in his arms, had all completely disappeared.
He looked down.
In the palm of his hand, he was still clutching two bottles of Compound V.
"Nice!!"
Hillel raised an eyebrow. "So when dimension-travelling, you really can bring things over! That means I can successfully bring things from here back as well!"
This was quite a pleasant surprise!
He raised his head and looked around.
With this look, he was instantly dumbfounded.
Surrounding him densely were people—a group of equally tall and exceptionally high-spirited Viltrumites...
"Come on, bro! Where the hell did you drag me this time?!"
Hillel could feel it.
Among these Viltrumites, many auras were extremely formidable, and in every pair of eyes burned a fury that was close to fanaticism yet mixed with anger and grief.
As for his own body, at some unknown point, he had also changed into a traditional suit of Viltrumite armor.
On the chest and shoulders, a three-stripe crest was prominently printed.
Where is my V?!
Hillel’s gaze swept past the surging crowd of heads and looked toward the towering royal dais in the distance.
A figure as robust as a deity was standing on the royal dais, overlooking the sea of humanity gathered below by countless Viltrumites.
Thragg!
The Regent of the Viltrumite Empire!
"Will you too betray us one day?"
"I will not!"
"I don’t believe you!"
As soon as Thragg finished speaking, he swung his palm out, slashing down without any warning.
Pfft!
A Viltrumite standing beside him didn’t even have time to let out a scream before his entire head was severed by that palm strike and sent flying away.
The headless corpse crashed down heavily.
Making an example to frighten others?
No!
That was the horn of war!!
And the beginning of The Great Purge!!!
Hillel immediately reacted.
The timeline he time-traveled to was the bloodiest and most insane period of the Viltrumite Empire after the death of Emperor Argus...
The Great Purge!
After this war, at least half of the Viltrumites died in the civil war.
(Thragg launching The Great Purge in history is somewhat obscure.)
Thragg stood on the royal dais, looking down at all living beings, his chad face completely devoid of any ripples.
"According to the law, I immediately assume the regency and take the position of Viltrumite Regent, until the successor of Emperor Argus appears!"
"Now I issue my first command!"
"Find out the weakness that caused this betrayal, and excise this tumor!"
"The Empire does not need the weak."
As the words fell.
The entire World began to boil.
Billions of Viltrumites, following this order, bared their fangs at each other without hesitation.
This was not a war!
This was a massacre!
This was a race conducting a cruel screening of itself in the most extreme and bloody way.
Nature selects the fittest, survival of the fittest.
Only the strong are worthy of standing until the end.
Thragg only wanted elites; others were not worthy of living to enjoy the glory of the empire. The weakness and redundancy within the empire must be completely excised.
Even if the price was the lives of billions of compatriots!
The sky was torn into fragments by countless shuttling streams of light.
Screams! Roars! Bones shattering... Even the sounds of flesh being pierced converged into a hellish symphony!
"Damn it, they’re simply a bunch of psychotics!!"
Hillel stood in the center of the Shura field, not even having his moustache grown yet.
At his age on Viltrum, he was equivalent to a little brat.
Especially a bunch of moustached, fierce-looking old Viltrumites; seeing him was like seeing their father’s killer.
"Die!"
A pot-bellied, fierce-looking Viltrumite was the first to target him.
That fat body burst forth with astonishing speed at this moment.
He grinned hideously, one hand transforming into a sharp hand-blade, chopping straight down toward Hillel’s neck.
The palm wind was fierce, carrying a sharp sound that tore through the air.
In his view, this was a one-hit kill.
How could an unadult brat withstand this strike of his?
Hillel didn’t even look.
A bunch of madmen upholding Social Darwinism!
Emperor Argus was assassinated, and instead of thinking about finding the traitors, these people started harming their own kin!
He just slightly side-stepped, and that hand-blade, which was enough to cut through steel, grazed his cheek and chopped into empty air.
Hillel clenched his fist tightly and then threw it out.
Pfft!
His fist easily pierced through the opponent’s chest, bursting out from the back, holding a freshly beating heart in his hand.
"A six-chambered heart?"
Hillel scanned it with perspective vision. "I thought you had six hearts..."
The opponent wore a look of shock, eyes wide open, with only Hillel’s calm face reflected in his pupils.
Hillel pulled his hand back with a yank.
That massive corpse fell backward rigidly, like a puppet with cut strings.
He grasped that heart and squeezed it slightly.
Snap!
The entire heart was crushed into powder.
"The Great Purge, huh."
Hillel shook the blood off his hand, the corners of his mouth splitting into a grin.
"It’s simply... too much of a surprise!"
He raised his head and looked at the towering royal dais.
Thragg completely failed to notice that Hillel, mixed among billions of people, was an outsider rather than a local.
To Thragg, Hillel was just a nobody at this moment.
That Regent, after launching The Great Purge, turned around and returned to the solemn royal hall, quietly waiting for the final result of this slaughter.
Hillel withdrew his gaze.
Very good!
No one noticed him!
What he needed to do was temper himself to his heart’s content in this Shura field.
And then... fight for that imperial throne!
"This golden toilet... oh no, golden throne, you Thragg can sit on it, why can’t I, Hillel, sit on it?"
...
The Great Purge was a prolonged slaughter.
It couldn’t be decided overnight.
____
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