The man's voice echoed in the air from the back of the building, deep and slightly cracked—a mixture of amusement and menace.

"Oh?" A low voice left his lips, stepping out from the shadows. "Looks like we have got a rat in here."

Ryan froze as his voice reached his ears, fists clenched instinctively, and his heart started hammering against his ribs. The slow flickering of the light above his head cast long shadows across the floor, making the figure's movements feel more jagged and strange.

The man was quite tall—around six feet, maybe a little shorter than that, his frame was athletic, his eyes were glassy as his pupils were wide, a little too wide, and his grin looked unnatural, like someone who's high on something strong. He walked closer with a swagger that gave a hint to Ryan that he wasn't dealing with a random guy.

Ryan's eyes were fixated on him; his voice left his throat, cold yet firm. "Who are you?"

The man tilted his head a bit, cracking his neck a bit lazily as he said. "Who am I? Don't you think that it should be me who asks that of you?" Grin on his lips widened a bit. "Little rat, who are you?"

Ryan didn't even have any time to respond back. The man suddenly blurred; one moment he was there, and the next he was in front of Ryan's face, closing the distance in just a heartbeat. His hand shot out, grabbing Ryan's neck.

Ryan couldn't even blink, he got slammed into the ground floor—hard. The old tiles cracked after his back made contact with the floor, and a gasp of air escaped Ryan's lips.

The back of his skull throbbed, vision started to spin as it blurred out a bit. Saliva flew out of his mouth as his spine got hurt because of the force.

The man came on top of him, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol. "You thought that you could sneak in here, huh?" he muttered under his breath, voice low but wild.

[DING!]

A blue panel of the system materialized in front of Ryan's eyes.

[Warning: Host, the enemy's power level is A-Grade. Do not underestimate or go easy.]

Ryan's eyes widened. 'He's A-Rank? Almost on par with Aiden, the Muay-Thai leader? What the fuck?'

[Name: Unknown]

[Strength: A]

[Agility: A-]

[Endurance: A+]

[Intelligence: D]

Ryan looked at the stat window, which hovered in the air in front of him. 'Fuck—'

The man's grip tightened around Ryan's neck, his thumb pressing hard into his jaw. "What are you thinking, rat?" His tone was filled with mockery, clearly trying to kill Ryan.

Ryan gritted his teeth as he struggled under his grip, trying his best to get him off his neck, but it was like trying to move a steel bar. Every muscle in Ryan's body started screaming, veins bulging out, and sweat rolled down from his temple.

The man let out a small chuckle, voice low. "You look so cute when you try real hard, little rat."

Ryan's lungs started to burn out. He could feel his strength increasing; the weight was pressing harder on his face. His mind screamed for him to do something—anything to be out of this situation.

So he finally did. He swung his arm upward with everything he had left in his body, hitting his fist into the man's temple. The sound which came after the impact was loud—flesh against bone.

The man's head tilted slightly, and a red mark bloomed across his temple. He didn't even flinch after the impact. "You think your small, miserable punches will do anything to me?" he said as a maniacal grin curled up on his lips, that was more terrifying than his stats.

Ryan didn't hesitate, threw one more punch to his face—connecting his knuckles on his jaw.

The man's jaw tilted a bit, but still his eyes remained fixated on Ryan. Ryan utilized every bit of his body as the saliva escaped from his mouth and hit the man's eyes.

The man recoiled back with a loud surprised grunt, his grip started to loosen up just for a second, but that was enough for Ryan to get away.

Ryan twisted his body, kicked the man's torso as he pushed himself up, escaping from his grip. He stumbled back up, wiping his face with the back of his left hand. His breathing was ragged—finding it difficult to breathe, but his eyes still remained locked onto the guy.

"No," Ryan said, panting hard, trying to catch his breath—voice shaking with anger. "I don't think that my punches hurt you even a single bit. Because you're so high that you're not even in a sane mind to feel pain, but I'm sure that they're leaving their impact on you."

The man blinked once, wiping the spit of Ryan from his face, a small laugh escaped his lips—a deep, broken sound which echoed through the building.

"Oh, you've got some balls to say that, little rat." He said, his voice low yet dangerous.

He cracked his neck, the sound of it was sharp as it echoed in the room, then started walking towards Ryan, his steps slow but shaky.

Ryan's feet shifted instinctively, getting into his stance, fists rose next to his face, his body lowering up a bit. Arthur's voice rang in his mind—Keep your hands up, stay calm and composed. Read the enemy. Breathe.

The fist of the man came flying towards Ryan, it was a wild swing filled with the intent to kill, not to scare. Ryan ducked under it and countered it fast, jabbing the man's ribs twice, then followed by a right hook straight to his lungs.

The hits landed—clean, heavy yet precise.

But the man just let out a small chuckle. Ryan didn't stop, he pushed forward, landing the fury of punches—punch after punch. Hook, jab, cross, elbow—every hit drove with all the force he had left in his body, movements were smooth yet desperate.

For a moment, it seemed to work. But then the man staggered back slightly, breath became ragged.

But then, like something inside of him snapped. CRACK!

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