Eli. The young porter stood trembling in front of Alexis. His legs shook so badly that it looked as though they might give out at any moment. Sweat poured down his face. Fear was written across every inch of his expression. Yet despite that fear... Despite knowing exactly how powerful Shawn was... Despite understanding that this decision would likely get him killed... He didn't move. Eli stood his ground Directly between Alexis and death. There was no dramatic declaration, no heroic speech, and no hesitation long enough to become meaningful. The decision happened faster than thought itself. It was simply movement—instinctive and immediate—as though Eli's body had already decided what mattered before his mind could catch up. Shawn's sword pierced him cleanly. The sound was disturbingly quiet amidst the chaos of battle. Eli's body jerked forward as the blade sank deep into his stomach, the force of the strike lifting him slightly off balance. For a brief moment, he remained st

Miles did not immediately react. He simply watched them approach, his eyes tracking their spacing, their angles, the subtle differences in timing between each attacker. His mind was already calculating before they even reached striking distance. The first three arrived almost simultaneously. One came in from the front with a downward slash aimed at splitting him open. Another flanked slightly to the left, angling a horizontal strike toward his ribs. The third lunged low, attempting to drive a blade into his chest while the others created distraction. To most fighters, it would have been a coordinated kill sequence. However, to Miles, it was predictable. He shifted, Just slightly out of sync with their timing. The first blade passed through where his shoulder had been a fraction of a second earlier, missing entirely as Miles stepped into the gap between intent and execution. Before the attacker could correct, Miles was already in motion. His fist drove forward into the man’s che

Miles stood alone in the center. His breathing remained steady. His expression unreadable. For a moment, there was only the sound of distant fire and shifting debris. Then he turned his head slightly. Toward Shawn. The last one standing. Shawn had not moved during the final phase of the slaughter. Not because he couldn’t, but because he had been forced to watch. Every second of it had stripped something away—confidence, certainty, control. What remained now was something far more dangerous. His men were gone and defeated. Miles took a slow step forward, then another, closing the distance across the ruined street. Each step echoed softly against the broken ground. Shawn’s jaw tightened, but his eyes did not leave Miles. The demonic energy around him flickered once, unstable now, reacting not to rage—but to doubt. Miles stopped a short distance away, there was no interruption between them as only silence reigned Miles tilted his head slightly, studying Shawn as if the outco

The aftermath of battle carried a strange kind of silence. Not the peaceful silence that followed victory, but the heavy, uncomfortable quiet left behind when too many people had died and too much blood had been spilled. Smoke still drifted through the ruined street where the battle had taken place. Cracked asphalt stretched in every direction, scarred by fire and impact craters, while the bodies of corrupted hunters and mutated creatures lay scattered across the battlefield like grim reminders of everything that had happened. At the center of it all stood Miles as he stared down at Shawn's unconscious form. The once-arrogant hunter who had spent the entire encounter speaking as though he controlled everyone's fate now lay broken at Miles's feet. His armor was shattered in several places, blood stained his clothes, and his face was swollen from the beating he had received. Miles showed no satisfaction at the sight. For him, Shawn was simply another obstacle that had been removed.

Several minutes later, Miles landed silently atop his apartment building. The familiar structure immediately came into view, standing quietly amidst the surrounding residential district. Normally, seeing it would have eased his mind. Today, it did the exact opposite. A strange unease settled over him the moment he looked at the building. Everything appeared normal. The lights inside his apartment were on. Nothing seemed damaged. No signs of forced entry were visible from the outside but it felt wrong. Without wasting another second, Miles crossed the rooftop and dropped onto the balcony attached to his apartment. His eyes immediately scanned the interior through the glass doors. The first thing he noticed was that Mia wasn't there. The second thing he noticed was Gladys. The middle-aged housekeeper sat alone at the dining table, her posture slumped and her expression distant, as though she had been sitting there for hours. When she suddenly noticed movement out