"This... this is Elric?"
Natasha, Jenna, Grace, Elsa, Rachel, and even Erin all stared with wide eyes, their expressions ranging from shock to fascination.
When did he acquire this transformation form? He never mentioned having this ability!
A long, powerful reptilian tail covered in emerald scales. Beast-like curved claws capable of rending steel. Massively muscled digitigrade legs ending in razor talons.
Yet somehow, combined with Elric's naturally athletic frame and handsome features partially preserved even in transformation, the overall appearance looked less monstrous and more... imposing. Dominant. Almost aesthetically powerful in a primal way.
This was the Hybrid Beast-Human Form granted by his Ancient Zoan Devil Fruit—the perfect balance between human intelligence and prehistoric predator strength.
The moment the physical transformation completed, overwhelming power surged through his enhanced body like a roaring storm barely contained within flesh.
"So this is the hybrid combat state..." Elric flexed his clawed hands experimentally, feeling the raw force coursing through every muscle fiber. "Much stronger than I initially expected from the specifications."
He rolled his neck with several sharp cracks, then stepped purposefully toward the shattered balcony railing.
"I'm heading out to handle some disciplinary matters. Don't wander outside the apartment while I'm gone."
Before any of the women could voice concern or protest—
SWOOSH—!!
He leaped cleanly from the 28th-floor penthouse balcony without hesitation or safety equipment.
Wind screamed violently past his enhanced ears as gravity accelerated his descent.
Several seconds of freefall later—
BOOM!!
The tremendous impact shattered a crater into the decorative brick walkway below, sending fragments flying in all directions and creating spiderweb cracks radiating outward.
Elric straightened smoothly from his landing crouch.
He didn't feel even a bruise or strain despite the fall that would have killed any normal human instantly.
"Beast form physical durability is genuinely insane..." he muttered with satisfaction.
He turned his enhanced predatory gaze toward Building 8, his Emotion Perception ability immediately locking onto specific targets.
One particular emotional signature shone like a burning black star through walls and floors—
Intense, concentrated hostility.
The aura appeared practically dark purple in his supernatural vision—the deepest shade of malice possible.
"Perfect. First target identified."
He strode forward with purpose, his clawed feet clicking rhythmically against the pavement with each measured step.
Meanwhile, inside Building 8, Unit 505...
"@Elric, you selfish freak! A superpowered person who refuses to serve the community? Absolute TRASH! I hope you die painfully soon!"
An older woman in her mid-fifties furiously typed venomous insults into the residents' group chat, her lips curled in bitter triumphant satisfaction.
This was the exact same "pitiful auntie" who had guilt-tripped Elric earlier with claims about starving and needing food assistance.
Her sob story about supplies running dangerously low?
A complete lie.
Her spacious apartment was practically stacked with hoarded supplies—bottled water cases, canned foods, bags of rice, preserved meats—easily enough provisions for two people to survive comfortably for an entire month.
Her adult "daughter" lived with her and shared the exact same entitled, parasitic personality.
Before the apocalypse disaster, this woman had built her entire lifestyle around aggressively taking advantage of others through manipulation and public scenes:
Monopolized public basketball courts for her social gatherings, refusing to share Forced younger workers to surrender seats on public transportation, screaming if they showed any resistance Raided free promotional drink stands at stores, filling multiple bags with entire coolers meant for all customers When challenged by anyone, she would immediately scream, cry, threaten legal action, or play the victim card
She had never cared about anyone else's convenience or rights—only her own perceived entitlements.
Now some superpowered young man dared to claim leadership and demand contributions?
Impossible. Unacceptable.
She was the real victim here—in her completely delusional mind.
She slammed another aggressive message into the group chat:
"Elric, you think you're some kind of KING here? We legally OWN these properties! You're nobody!"
She smirked with absolute confidence, believing completely that he couldn't possibly trace anonymous internet messages back to her specific location.
Modern technology was too complex for some muscle-headed ability user to understand, surely.
She had absolutely no idea—
Her intensely hostile emotional aura had already placed a perfect death mark on her exact position.
Elric stopped casually outside Building 8's entrance.
His clawed hands flexed experimentally, testing their enhanced gripping strength.
"Let's pay the good auntie a proper visit, shall we?"
His reptilian lips curved into something that barely resembled a human smile.
Inside Unit 505, the older woman muttered angrily to herself while opening a desk drawer.
"Shouldn't he use his abilities to make us live comfortably? That's what power is FOR!"
She withdrew a small wooden figurine—crudely carved to vaguely resemble a human form, already bristling with dozens of pins stuck through various body parts.
This was her "curse doll"—a superstitious practice she genuinely believed worked.
Anytime someone refused to let her take advantage of them, she would "curse" them using this method, deriving sadistic satisfaction from imagining their suffering.
And now? She was preparing to curse Elric.
"May you suffer terribly. May you regret not obeying me and serving my needs."
She raised a fresh needle toward the figurine's head area—
But the wooden doll suddenly vanished from her hands completely.
Replaced instantaneously by a towering figure with scaled limbs, curved claws, and a long prehistoric tail.
Elric stood directly in front of her, occupying the space where her coffee table had been moments before.
"Auntie~" His tone was disturbingly warm and friendly, almost playful. "I'm already here in person to receive your hospitality."
He gestured at the needle still gripped in her frozen hand.
"If you want to poke someone with sharp objects, you can use the real me instead. No need for primitive dolls and superstitious rituals."
The woman's face went deathly pale. Her mouth opened in a silent scream of pure terror.
Then she found her voice and shrieked toward the back hallway:
"D-DAUGHTER! HELP ME! CALL SOMEONE!"
From inside the locked bedroom, her large-framed adult daughter panicked upon hearing the commotion.
But instead of helping or calling for assistance, she immediately slammed her bedroom door shut and frantically turned the deadbolt, locking herself inside and abandoning her mother completely.
Better her than me, the daughter thought with pure survival instinct.
Elric blinked once, genuinely surprised by the betrayal.
"Wow. What a heartwarming display of family bonds and loyalty."
He took a single measured step forward—
The older woman collapsed from sheer overwhelming terror before he even physically touched her, her heart giving out from the stress.
Elric exhaled slowly, almost disappointed by the anticlimactic resolution.
That was it? Not even worth the effort of using an ability.
Then he turned his attention toward the locked bedroom door.
He pushed lightly with one clawed hand—minimal force applied.
THUD—
The entire reinforced door, frame included, fell inward instantly, ripping free from the wall mounts as if made from cardboard.
The daughter backed desperately into the corner of her room, trembling violently.
"Please—please don't—I didn't do anything—"
A soft sound.
A brief moment.
Then silence.
A few minutes later, Elric calmly stepped out of Unit 505.
He raised his smartphone, snapped several clear photographs of the scene inside—nothing gratuitously graphic, just the closed eyes and peacefully slumped poses of the two who had openly opposed him—and immediately posted the images into the Silverleaf Heights residents' group chat without comment or explanation.
Let the images speak for themselves.
Then he continued walking the residential hallways with measured steps, his Emotion Perception ability guiding him like supernatural radar toward every remaining source of concentrated hostility.
Anyone whose emotional aura burned with active malice toward him was systematically... removed.
No dramatic confrontations.
No screaming struggles.
No messy violence echoing through the complex.
Just quiet, efficient consequence delivered with surgical precision.
Building 4, Unit 602—a man who had called him a "punk."
Neutralized.
Building 7, Unit 707—a woman who demanded he serve as her personal resource gatherer.
Neutralized.
Building 11, Unit 808—a group of three who had discussed "organizing resistance."
Neutralized.
Within approximately one hour of methodical work, the systematic purge was completely finished.
Every single actively hostile presence in the entire thirty-three-building complex had been... neutralized.
Not a single dissenting voice remained alive to challenge his authority.
Elric returned to the central courtyard, his hybrid form gradually reverting back to normal human appearance as scales receded and claws retracted.
He opened the group chat one final time and sent a simple message:
"Disciplinary actions have been completed. Hostiles eliminated."
"Any further objections to the new management structure?"
"If not, reply: 'RECEIVED' to confirm your understanding and compliance."
The replies came immediately—frantically fast, as if residents feared even a second's delay might mark them as hesitant:
"RECEIVED!"
"RECEIVED!"
"Received, Manager Elric!"
"Thank you for your protection, Manager Elric!"
"We fully support you!"
"No objections whatsoever!"
Dozens, then hundreds of identical compliance messages flooded the chat in rapid succession.
Not a single voice of dissent. Not a whisper of resistance.
Perfect, absolute submission achieved through demonstration rather than argument.
Elric flexed his now-human fingers and smiled faintly with cold satisfaction.
Order had been established.
Fear-based compliance was the most reliable form of governance in the apocalypse.
Now he could focus on his actual objectives—finding System-compatible women, gathering resources, and preparing for larger threats.
The complex was his now. Completely and absolutely.
There is 50 chapter Advance, in my patreon. If you are interested can check it out.
patreon.com/B_A_3439