3 Feast

"Spectre, would you like to partake in the same activity as before?" Johnny's eyes gleamed as he communicated with his summoned minion.

"I... crave..." The Spectre's voice resonated within Johnny's mind, brimming with a yearning emotion as it stood obediently before him.

"Looks like you've grown stronger too," Johnny remarked, sensing the heightened aura emanating from the undead entity before him. It seemed that the process of consumption not only bolstered Johnny's own power but also enhanced that of his summoned minions.

"Proceed down this corridor, unlock that door, and dispatch any guards swiftly," Johnny commanded, his tone icy and resolute. "Leave no survivors."

"Understood.... my lord," the Spectre replied eagerly, its ethereal form darting down the corridor with remarkable speed.

At the end of the corridor loomed a heavy metal door, beyond which awaited a group of guards. According to the gleaned information from the guards consumed earlier, they would soon be changing shifts. If Johnny didn't act swiftly, he'd face a daunting challenge against the incoming reinforcements.

With a swift, decisive motion, the Spectre tore through the iron chain securing the door, sending sparks flying as it crashed to the ground with a resounding clang.

Two guards, armed with firearms, spun around in alarm at the sudden intrusion. "What's going on?" they demanded, their expressions morphing into horror as they beheld the grisly scene behind the door.

In the corridor stood Johnny, a cold indifference in his gaze. The once-living guards now lay as nothing more than skeletal remnants, their flesh stripped away, leaving only fragmented bones and scattered traces of blood. The sight left the remaining guards bewildered and terrified, grappling with the incomprehensible horror before them.

The two guards, filled with fear and determination, poised their spears to strike at Johnny. Yet, before they could even activate their weapons, Johnny's smirk signaled the end for them.

In a flash, the Spectre materialized before them, its invisible claws slicing through their heads with brutal efficiency. Their screams were cut short as their lifeless bodies crumpled to the ground, blood painting the floor in gruesome splatters.

Without hesitation, the Spectre began to feast, driven by its insatiable hunger.

Meanwhile, Johnny, growing accustomed to the Spectre's devouring habits, casually retrieved the dropped shields and spears. His mind buzzed with newfound knowledge on how to utilize these divine weapons to their fullest potential.

The shield, crafted from unique minerals of Asgard, offered robust defense against physical and energy assaults. The spear, on the other hand, boasted versatile attack capabilities, functioning both as a melee weapon and a ranged energy projector, akin to a shotgun. However, its long-range functionality required a brief charging period, drawing upon divine power inherent to Asgardians.

"Haha, it seems these weapons are reserved for warriors of Asgard. Others beings can use them, but without divine power, they're mere tools. And I... I must possess divine power," Johnny mused with a smirk, tightening his grip on the weapons.

As he contemplated the benefits of devouring, Johnny marveled at his newfound ability.

Meanwhile, the Spectre swiftly devoured the remains of the guards, leaving nothing but bare skeletons in its wake.

Once again, Johnny felt a surge of strength coursing through him, proof of the gains from the Spectre's consumption.

"It's done... Lord... it's done," the Spectre's emotions, still ravenous, reverberated in Johnny's mind.

"Let's move. I'll treat you to a feast," Johnny declared, leading the undead Spectre through the prison corridors.

The prisons here differ from those in the future, boasting a more classical style. Even the dungeons, built magnificently, rival the high-end hotels Johnny had glimpsed before his time travel.

"These Asgardians sure know how to splurge. Even their dungeons are extravagant..."

Johnny muttered under his breath as he cautiously navigated the corridors.

The divine dungeon was vast, with few guards in sight. Johnny, trailed by Spectres, encountered no one for quite some time.

However, as Johnny passed, prisoners in cages on both sides clamored, reaching out as if seeing an oasis in the desert.

"You ain't from Asgard... you're a prisoner! How'd you escape?"

"You're one of us, ain't ya? Set us free, and we'll follow you!"

"Hey, let me out, you rat! If you don't, I'll slaughter your whole planet when I'm out!"

Each prisoner pleaded, begged, or threatened...

Initially indifferent, Johnny's demeanor shifted upon hearing the threat. He halted, then approached the man with an icy stare.

"Is that what you said?"

Johnny's voice was cold.

"Do you know who you're dealing with? I've spilled more blood than you can imagine! Release me, or face the consequences!"

The man persisted in his rant.

"Where are your cronies? Are they all in on this?"

Johnny scanned the others.

Sensing Johnny's potential release, the prisoners followed suit, thinking intimidation effective. They rushed forward, hurling threats.

"Spectre, your feast awaits! Slay them all!"

Stepping back, Johnny regarded the smaller prisoners coolly.

"Kid, something wrong with your head? Who're you talking to?"

"Free us now!"

Ignoring Johnny's skepticism, the prisoners continued their threats.

"Yes... Lord..."

The Undead approached the bars, claws gripping them, exerting force.

Creaking—

The bars bent!

The sudden bend startled the prisoners. They hadn't done anything, so why did the bars bend on their own?

Unfazed, they saw their chance and fled through the gap.