As Jain stepped into the room, he could hear the goblins screeching and howling, their high-pitched voices echoing off the stone walls. Their cries for mercy went unanswered as Jain approached them with a calm, calculating stride. He didn't need weapons, for he was a weapon himself.
As he reached the center of the room, he began to move. His body twisted and contorted in ways that should have been impossible for a human. He moved with such speed and fluidity that the goblins barely had time to react before they were upon him.
With a single swift motion, Jain reached out and grabbed the closest goblin, his fingers sinking deep into its flesh. The goblin screamed and thrashed about, but Jain's grip was too strong. He twisted his arm sharply, and there was a sickening snap as the goblin's neck broke.
Jain released the lifeless body, and it fell to the floor with a thud. Without a moment's hesitation, he moved on to the next goblin. He punched it hard in the stomach, and the goblin doubled over in pain. Jain followed up with a vicious uppercut, sending the goblin flying across the room. It slammed into the wall and slid to the ground, unmoving.
The other goblins were starting to realize that they were no match for Jain. They tried to flee, but he was too quick. He darted after them, grabbing them by the arms and slamming them into the walls with bone-crunching force. He didn't stop until every last goblin lay dead at his feet.
As the last fell, the room fell silent. Jain stood in the midst of the goblin family's bloody massacre. His once smiled form was now shaped into that of a tall and muscular human figure. His dolphin-smooth opaque skin shimmered in the dim light, and his amber eyes glowed like molten gold. Straight black hair cascaded down his shoulders like a curtain of silk. Jain looked down at his hands, his fingers curled and stained with goblin blood, slowly dissolving into him. He had killed them all with his bare hands, and he didn't feel a thing.
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It wasn't that he didn't feel any emotions; he was numb to them, overwhelmed by the memories of his past as a variant slime, and the countless times he had absorbed and assimilated living beings. Jain had taken on their memories, their experiences, and their thoughts. It was an overload that he hadn't anticipated.
But that wasn't the only thing that had changed. Jain realized that he couldn't feel anything. He knew when he touched something, but he couldn't sense it. It was as if he had lost his sense of touch. This was a shock to him, as he had never encountered such an experience in all his years as a variant slime.
Jain muttered to himself, "Yes, I guess I am a monster. Either way, it doesn't mean I can't kill the other ones." His lips curled into a chilling smile as he thought of the next living beings that he would absorb into his being.
The goblin family lay in a bloody heap, the father, mother, and five children, all brutally murdered by Jain's hands. He looked down at them, no remorse or guilt in his amber eyes. Jain realised that he had become something beyond human, beyond morality, beyond empathy. He was a creature of pure instinct, driven by the desire to consume and assimilate all living beings that came into his path. At least though that's what he hoped.
The room was silent, except for the occasional drip of blood that fell from the ceiling onto the already drenched floor. Jain was lost in thought, contemplating his existence and his purpose. He had once been a simple variant slime, a creature driven by its instincts to consume and assimilate. But now, he was something more, something different, something beyond human comprehension.
As Jain stood there, bathed in goblin blood, he knew that this was only the beginning. There would be more living beings to assimilate, more experiences to absorb, more memories to store. He knew what he was now, an ever-evolving creature, and with enough time, nothing could stand in his way.