[Current Sacrifice Point Balance: 6,800]
Looking at his incredibly plump account balance, Peter couldn't help but let out an excited whistle.
This was a massive windfall. Not only had he earned enough to cover the cost of "Stand United," but he also had a significant surplus!
With that thought, Peter instinctively looked toward the sealed containment units housing the other three symbiotes nearby.
Even if these guys are just no-name nobodies, their collective combat value is still there. They should be worth at least another two or three thousand points, right?
Peter stepped toward the containers, intent on scooping up the remaining prizes. But as he reached down...
Whoosh—!
The sharp sound of air being torn apart came from behind him. Without even looking back, a black-and-red tentacle sprouted from Peter's shoulder. The tip formed a jagged blade and swept behind him in a wide arc.
CLANG!
A grey-brown mass of slime shaped like a flail slammed into the ground, vibrating with the force of the impact.
"They are MINE!"
Carlton Drake—or rather, Riot—shouted. He retracted his arm, re-assimilating the section Peter had just sliced off, and let out an ear-piercing roar.
Drake had no idea that Peter intended to sacrifice the other symbiotes to a cosmic system. Seeing Peter covered in black-and-red biomass, he assumed this was some local resident who had bonded with the leaked Venom symbiote and was now greedily trying to claim the rest for himself.
Drake's eyes turned blood-red with fury. God knows how long he had prepared for this project or how much capital he had sunk into it. He wouldn't allow some disobedient "freelancer" to steal his property!
He didn't stop to think about how effortlessly Peter had countered him. Driven by Riot's bloodlust, Drake lunged forward like a rabid beast, his hands shifting into two massive cleavers intended to slice Peter—and his symbiote—clean in half!
It was a beautiful plan, but reality had other ideas.
CLANG!
Peter simply turned around and raised a single hand. In a heartbeat, his arm shifted into a black-and-red shield with a metallic sheen. He blocked the heavy impact.
Not only was he unhurt, but there wasn't even a scratch on the shield.
"What?" Riot froze.
How was this possible? That strike could have sliced through the reinforced hull of a battleship. How could another symbiote catch it so easily?
Riot knew he was an elite among his kind on Klyntar. Even though being bonded to a "weakling" like Carlton Drake limited his output, he should have at least left a mark.
Is the host this impressive? Or is this symbiote something even more monstrous than me?
While Riot spiraled, Peter's relaxed voice drifted into their ears. "Is this all you've got? For an 'elite' of your species... at best, you're just a puppy~"
The insult hit like a physical blow. Riot and Drake both hit a boiling point. Riot roared, his arms shifting into massive morning stars. He swung them in a frenzied blur, each strike carrying enough force to crack the earth.
Peter's eyes brightened. A perfect chance to test racial differences!
He raised his shield and stood his ground, closing his eyes to sense the force of the impact.
Rokushiki: Tease (Hand Measurement)!
This was the technique used by Fukuro of CP9—a way to calculate the "Douriki" (power level) of an opponent by taking their hits.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Riot's assault was like a tropical storm, leaving deep craters in the surrounding soil. But Peter stood like an immovable mountain, yawning behind his mask.
After ten seconds, Riot's movements slowed as he began to huff and puff. Peter had his answer.
The Omnitrix's "Optimized Mimicry" was truly broken. Riot was an elite on Klyntar, but compared to Peter's 75% mimicry, his attacks were merely "mediocre."
If Riot was like Kaku or Jabra from CP9, Peter was Rob Lucci—the once-in-eight-hundred-years genius. Riot would need to double his stats just to stand on equal footing.
"Are you done? Because if you are... It's my turn!"
Peter grinned, showing a mouth full of jagged, predatory teeth. Riot's mind went blank. He took all those hits, and he's still standing there talking?!
Before Riot could process the fear, Peter threw a punch. No Chakra, no Rokushiki—just a raw, physical strike.
But the sheer displacement of air made Riot's skin crawl. He tried to defend, but Peter was too fast.
BOOM!
The black-and-red fist grew in Riot's vision. The blow landed, and Riot's massive frame folded like a lawn chair.
Peter's fist didn't just hit him—it practically punched "through" the biomass. The terrifying force sent the pair flying like a cannonball, crashing through the alloy plating of the rocket wreckage.
"Riot! Save me!" Drake screamed in agony as his ribs shattered.
But Riot didn't care about Drake anymore. Feeling the gap in power, Riot realized he needed a more "compatible" host to survive this monster.
He smashed the containers of the other three symbiotes as he flew past. Then, in a moment of cold calculation, Riot abandoned Carlton Drake's dying body entirely.
He lunged through the air, heading straight for the red-haired man who had just stepped off the helicopter: Cletus Kasady.
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