Heavenly Unbound [A LitRPG System Survival]

Sam sprinted toward the location the guard had pointed out, using Flash Step repeatedly to close the distance. It took only five minutes for him to reach the camp.

What he saw ignited a fire of rage within him.

A group of twenty men stood in front of the camp, their leader holding a young girl hostage with a knife pressed against her throat. The camp's guards, armed with spears and shields, held the line but looked tense and hesitant.

The gang leader, a burly man wearing a white jacket emblazoned with a crude insignia, shouted, "Get out here, doctor! Or do you want to see this one die, huh?"

"Hahaha!" His gang cackled, their arrogance and cruelty on full display.

Sam's eyes narrowed. He recognized their kind instantly—a white supremacist gang, emboldened by the collapse of law and order. They had probably bullied their way into power during the chaos.

Typical scum, Sam thought coldly. But now, there's no law to protect them from me.

Without hesitation, Sam activated Flash Step again, appearing silently behind the man holding the hostage. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the man by the neck and twisted, the sickening sound of bones snapping echoing through the air. He tossed the now-limp body to the side, leaving him alive but unconscious.

The gang leader spun around, his face contorted with shock and anger. "Who the fuck are you?!" he yelled, raising a gun to aim at Sam. "Trying to play hero, huh?"

Sam didn't reply. He had no interest in interacting with these people.

"Die!" the leader screamed, pulling the trigger.

The shot rang out, the bullet striking Sam squarely in the head. The camp guards and bystanders screamed in horror.

"Ahhhhh!"

But Sam didn't fall.

Instead, he stood there, unfazed, as the bullet harmlessly dropped from his forehead to the ground.

The gang leader froze, his hand trembling. "W-what the hell...?" he stammered, fumbling to fire again.

Sam didn't give him the chance. With another Flash Step, he closed the distance in an instant. Before the leader could react, Sam grabbed his arm and snapped it with a swift motion.

"AHHHHHHH!" the man screamed in agony, dropping the gun.

Sam didn't stop. He systematically broke all four of the man's limbs, ensuring he would pose no further threat. His screams filled the air, silencing the jeering gang members who had laughed moments ago.

"Open fire!" one of the gang members yelled, panic and anger flooding his voice.

Several gang members scrambled for their guns, raising them toward Sam.

"Kill him!" another shouted.

A volley of gunfire erupted, the deafening sound of bullets cutting through the air.

But Sam didn't flinch. Using Flash Step, he weaved through the gunfire effortlessly, each step blurring his figure as he closed the distance. To the gang members, it was as though he was teleporting.

Before they could react, Sam reached the first shooter, grabbing the barrel of his gun and twisting it with enough force to shatter the metal. He delivered a swift punch to the man's chest his body was blasted into pieces, sending his remains body part flying backward into two others, knocking them to the ground.

"Keep firing!" a desperate voice cried, but it was already too late.

Sam moved like a predator among prey, dismantling their formation with precise, brutal efficiency. Guns were smashed, their wielders left writhing on the ground, screaming in pain.

When the last bullet clicked in an empty chamber, silence fell. The remaining gang members, realizing the futility of their resistance, dropped their weapons and bolted in terror.

Sam turned to the camp guard, his voice cold and calm. "Lock him up. We'll interrogate him later."

"Yes, sir!" the guard replied, quickly restraining the gang leader.

Sam's gaze shifted back to the fleeing gang members. His eyes burned with fury. You dared to threaten my family? I will rip you apart!.

Activating Flash Step again, Sam pursued them one by one. Though they fought back with desperate swings and cries for mercy, they were no match for him. His bare hands ripped through their defenses, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

By the time it was over, fifteen gang members' bodies could not be identified, Sam deliberately spared five, leaving them trembling and bloodied.

Sam stood there, his fists still clenched, as the blood-red sunset painted the horizon behind him.

Ding!

You have slain an enemy [Human: level 14]

You have slain an enemy [Human: level 13]

...…

...…

"I will kill you later if you follow me" Sam said, The five already lost their mind to Sam's cruelty following him mindlessly.

When returned to the camp he told the guard to lock the 5 up with his leader, and then he was led to his father by the camp people.

Sam walked into the camp, his eyes scanning the rows of injured lying on makeshift beds. His father, Nate, was moving between patients, tending to their wounds with calm urgency. Thirty people had been shot, the most serious injuries clustered together under his father's watchful care.

Sam's heart sank when he spotted his sister, Eve, among the wounded. She was sitting on a low bench, her arm wrapped in a bloodied cloth.

Then Sam found Glen, the scout who had brought back the horrifying news, Sam said "How did this happen?"

Glen shifted uncomfortably but answered. "We were ambushed while hunting. These bastards opened fire on us without warning. Many were shot, and they took our backpacker hostage. Two of the rear guards protecting her were killed on the spot." His voice grew quieter. "The most injured is David. He was shot in the head. The doctor's trying, but... he said the brain is damaged. He won't make it through the night."

Sam clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as Glen's words sank in. His anger simmered, but he pushed it down, focusing on what needed to be done.

Walking over to Eve, he saw her speaking with another woman, her voice trembling with suppressed rage.

"Eve, are you okay? What happened?" Sam asked, crouching beside her.

Eve glanced at him, her face pale but determined. "I'm fine," she said, though her tone betrayed her frustration. "It's like Glen said. Mike and Jake... they're dead. Shot in the head multiple times. I saw it happen. These bastards..." Her voice cracked as she gritted her teeth. "I want to kill them!"

Sam placed a hand on her good shoulder, his expression softening. "You'll get your chance, but not now. First, let me heal you. Don't resist—it'll feel a little ticklish."

Eve nodded, her anger momentarily giving way to trust. Sam activated Source of All Matter, letting the silvery-grey mist flow from his hand to her wounded arm. The mist seeped into the gash, knitting the tissue together as if it had never been torn.

Eve flexed her arm, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wow... it's like new skin. Thanks, Sam."

Sam gave her a small nod and stood, his gaze shifting to the other injured. He moved from person to person, assisting his father in healing the wounded.

Nate, his face lined with fatigue but resolute, gestured for Sam to join him near the most critical patient. "Sam, can you try to heal David? I've done what I can, but..."

Sam walked over to where David lay, his chest rising and falling shallowly. The man had a bullet hole in his forehead, and though he was still breathing, his condition looked grim.

Kneeling beside him, Sam examined the wound closely. It didn't seem to have reached the part of the brain controlling his breathing.

"I'll try," Sam said quietly. Placing a hand over the injury, he summoned Source of All Matter. The mist flowed gently into the wound, closing the hole with precision.

When he finished, David's breathing steadied slightly, but his eyes remained closed.

"He's stable," Sam said, glancing at his father. "But he's not waking up."

Nate nodded, his expression a mix of relief and concern. "If we're lucky, he might wake up in time. For now, we can only wait."

Sam sighed, standing and wiping his hands. The camp was quieter now, but the weight of loss and danger still hung heavy in the air. He looked at his father, sister, and the others, his resolve hardening. This isn't over yet.

By the time Michael and the others arrived at the camp, the chaos had already subsided. The sight before them was grim—makeshift beds filled with injured people, blood-stained bandages scattered on the ground, and a pervasive air of tension and exhaustion.

Michael froze at the edge of the camp, his eyes scanning the scene in disbelief. "What... what happened here?" he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Ann stepped forward, gripping her spear tightly as she took in the devastation. Her usual confidence wavered, replaced by a mix of guilt and sadness. "We were too late," she said quietly.

Eddie's normally laid-back demeanor was gone. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he muttered, "This... this is on us. We should've been here."

They moved deeper into the camp, their footsteps hesitant. Michael's gaze landed on their father, Nate, who was bent over a patient, his hands glowing faintly as he used his healing skills. He looked exhausted, his face pale and drawn, but he didn't stop. Nearby, Sam was tending to another injured person, his expression unreadable but his movements steady and efficient.

Michael swallowed hard and walked over to them. "Dad? Sam?" he called out softly.

Nate looked up briefly, giving Michael a tired but reassuring nod. "You're back," he said, his voice heavy. "It's over now, but... it was bad."

Sam straightened, his eyes meeting Michael's. Unlike their father, his expression held a simmering anger. "They ambushed the camp," Sam said flatly. "Killed two of ours. Injured thirty more."

Michael's stomach churned. "Two dead?" he repeated, his voice trembling. "Who?"

"Mike and Jake," Nate said quietly, his hands still working to heal a wound. "They were protecting the backpacker when it happened."

Eddie turned away, running a hand through his hair as he muttered a curse under his breath. "This... this shouldn't have happened."

Michael's fists clenched tightly. "We should've been here," he said, his voice shaking with guilt. "We should've protected them."

Sam walked up to him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Stop," he said firmly. "This isn't on you. None of us knew this would happen. What matters now is that we're here to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Michael looked at his brother, seeing the same determination in Sam's eyes that had carried them through the dungeon. He nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Ann stepped closer, her grip on her spear tightening. "What do we do now?"

Sam's gaze shifted toward the edge of the camp, where the restrained leader of the gang sat under heavy guard. His voice was cold as he replied, "We make sure they regret ever coming here."

The group stood in silence for a moment, their resolve hardening as they prepared for what was to come.