With how popular Ryder was turning out to be, he was beginning to trend around the four nations of the United Kingdom, especially his country; England. All the radio channels were booming. All they could talk about was Ryder and the most recent disaster. —"Today on the recent unexplainable disaster: What exactly is Ryder? Man, myth, or monster?" —"One who contracted with the devil beast." —"Has the devil beast possessed the anonymous Ryder into destroying Ludlow?" The news anchors delivered their lines with interest, purposely dropping newslines to appear presentable and pique public interest. This was the story of a lifetime after all. Ratings had never been higher. And as for the rumors? They multiplied at a crazy rate. Some said he could fly; others insisted he could walk through walls. One particularly creative someone said Ryder was actually three small children in a trenchcoat who had been possessed by his familiar. Cases like these do spring up once in a while about som

The number of people in the warehouse was easily a thousand or two, if not even more. Every breath Ryder took felt like inhaling a cocktail of cheap alcohol and stale cigarettes. Bodies pressed against one another, creating a suffocating atmosphere with every breath. The warehouse—once used for storing imported goods that never made it past customs—now housed a different kind of contraband: violence for profit. It was dominated mainly by gangsters. Men and women with hard eyes and harder knuckles, bearing scars all over as if their bodies were illustrating the intensity of their misdeeds with scars that spoke louder than any confession. Although various other criminals were there, they weren't there for the fight but to carry out some more illegal activities that could help them bag a great deal of cash, mostly gambling. "Five grand on Crusher breaking at least three bones!" shouted a man with a face that looked like it had been rearranged by an angry butcher—one he had refused

And finally, the last match we have on our schedule for today will be against our champion and his opponent, Black Devil. The announcer's voice boomed through the arena; the dramatic elongation of the challenger's name caused an uproar of cheers from the audience, with excitement in their eyes. Some leaned forward in their seats, while others stood to get a better view. This is the last fight for Crusher, and the fight that is going to determine if they would win their bets or lose. Normally, they were always tense while Crusher fought; in fact, they were always at ease, expecting a guaranteed victory, but the fights that had been going on so far proved otherwise. Crusher nearly lost against Green Bloody, particularly at the beginning of their fight. They could only hope no one would give him a hard time anymore. The underling tournament of the day, in particular, began a while ago. Before the tournament, there were fights hosted at the fighting platform, but the most anticipated

The force exerted from the attack you delivered to Crusher was what gave him the capability to grab your fist while you punched him earlier," Luxy explained. "And as for how the iron golem was able to hurt you, it was from the power reflected from the kick you delivered to it." Ryder nodded in realization as he stared at the two, waiting for them to make the first move. "Now I understand." "Yeah," said Luxy. "You have to attack with enough strength towards Crusher that would knock him off the platform with guarantee." "That wouldn't be easy, given that his annoying familiar is on the same platform as us," said Ryder. "Or..." Luxy hesitated for a bit. "Or what?" Ryder inquired, maintaining his outward composure while internally engaging with his familiar in a deep conversation. "Or you summon me out to take care of the iron golem." To be honest, Ryder never expected to be getting so much stress from a red mark summoner. He had once single-handedly taken down a lava manti

The information given to him about the black-marked summoner was still fresh in his head. Leo's mind buzzed with the details, replaying them over and over as he walked through the crowded marketplace, his senses on alert for any sign of his target. Earlier, during the early hours of the night, Lucian and Leo had arrived at the FSG base that was still under reconstruction. The once-proud fortress of the Federal Summoners Guild now resembled a half-eaten cake, with entire sections missing and construction crews moving around the destroyed section, reconstructing it. The sound of hammering filled the air. To think that this was the work of just one summoner was still hard to believe. Upon reaching the base, they went in and discussed a few things that would help Leo detect if Ryder appeared around him. The meeting room they occupied was one of the few undamaged areas, though a large crack ran along one wall like a lightning bolt frozen in time. "Firstly, he is most likely to be in