The crystalline shards of the barrier hadn't even hit the floor before Ross Bailey's refined demeanor shattered along with it. A high-pitched, manic laugh escaped his throat—a sound completely at odds with his gentlemanly appearance.

"Marvelous! Simply marvelous!" Ross screamed, his eyes wide and bloodshot. "I haven't seen a Knight break a Tier-4 barrier with raw physical force in decades!"

Ross didn't retreat. Instead, he thrust his hands forward, and the air ignited. "Let's see how you handle the old ways! Flame Burst!"

A massive fireball erupted from his palms. Ethan, his DEX making the world seem to move in slow motion, twisted his body mid-air, the heat singeing the fabric of his suit. He lunged forward, but Ross was surprisingly nimble, using small gusts of wind to propel himself backward, maintaining a tactical distance.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Ross rained down fireballs in a frantic barrage, turning the auction gallery into a furnace. Ethan moved like a blur of blue lightning, weaving through the explosions, his eyes locked on his target. He was closing the gap, his fist cocked back for a strike that would end the man's life.

"Now! Mind Shock!" Ross shrieked.

A sudden, invisible wave of psychic energy slammed into Ethan's brain. It felt like a white-hot needle being driven into his skull. The agony was so intense that his vision turned white, and his legs buckled for a split second. He gasped, clutching his head as his momentum halted.

"Hahaha! Too easy! You have the body of a god but the mind of a novice!" Ross laughed confidently, his hand glowing with a concentrated, spinning sphere of fire. "Die!"

The fireball roared toward Ethan's face at point-blank range.

At the last possible microsecond, Ethan's instinct kicked in. He snapped his head to the side, the flames grazing his cheek, and pivoted his entire weight into a counter-dash. He was a predator unleashed. Before Ross could chant another spell, Ethan was in his space.

"My turn," Ethan growled.

He swung a devastating right hook, his fist reinforced by the Dao Martial Technique, aimed squarely at Ross's jaw.

CRUNCH.

But the impact wasn't what he expected. One of the Genetic Soldiers had lunged from the side, throwing himself into the path of the blow to protect his master. Ethan's fist, carrying the weight of his maximized STR , didn't just hit the soldier—it detonated.

The guard's head exploded into a red mist and bone fragments. His headless corpse was sent hurtling across the room, slamming into a pillar with a wet thud. Unlike the previous guards, this one didn't move. No bones crunched back into place; no muscles knit back together. The destruction was too absolute.

A notification flashed in Ethan's peripheral vision:

[Genetic Soldier Killed - 300 Lux points attained]

Ethan stood amidst the smoke and blood, his eyes glowing with an eerie electrical light as he glared at Ross, who had stumbled back, his face splattered with the blood of his own guard.

"You're running out of meat shields, Ross," Ethan said, his voice echoing like rolling thunder. "Where is Samantha?"

Ross laughed, but the mania slowly drained from his face, replaced by a chillingly calm mask of professionalism. He stood up straight, smoothing out the wrinkles in his expensive suit and dusting off his shoulders with an elegant, practiced motion. He reached back, tightening his ponytail and adjusting his collar as if he were preparing for a gala rather than standing in the wreckage of a blood-stained gallery.

"You are quite good, young man," Ross said, his voice regaining its smooth, aristocratic lilt. "Truly impressive, but not quite enough. There is no need to remain in such a high state of alert."

Ethan didn't drop his guard, but he felt the suffocating killing intent in the room begin to dissipate.

"Allow me to introduce myself properly," the man continued, offering a slight, respectful bow. "I am Ross Bailey, a Rank 3 Enforcer of Celestial. I was dispatched specifically to clean up the mess left by that imbecile, Axhel."

Ethan felt the massive strain on his body. The fight had lasted only seconds, but the explosive output of energy and the mental trauma from the Mind Shock were taking a toll. His vision felt slightly blurry, and a heavy lethargy began to creep into his limbs, as if he were falling into a deep, forced sleep.

He immediately activated [Basic Qi Breathing], forcing the stagnant energy to circulate and clearing the fog in his mind. He needed to recharge urgently; if Ross decided to continue the assault now, Ethan knew he would be in serious trouble.

Maintaining his stoic expression and refusing to show even a flicker of weakness, Ethan adjusted his own torn jacket, staring Ross down with eyes of cold steel.

"You speak as if this is all just a business dispute," Ethan said, his voice low and dangerous. "Your people kidnapped my friends. They kidnapped my woman. They handed her over to Congressman Vance like a piece of meat. You took my home, you ambushed me, and now you talk as if it's all just a 'misunderstanding'?"

Ross watched him, his eyes tracing the faint sparks of electricity still dancing on Ethan's skin.

"In the eyes of Celestial, Mr. Blake, everything is a transaction," Ross replied smoothly. "Axhel broke the protocol of discretion. That is his crime. My job is to determine if you are a liability to be liquidated... or a variable to be negotiated with."

Ross raised his hand, making a sharp, intricate signal toward the shadows of the side corridor.

A moment later, two Genetic Soldiers emerged, but they weren't escorting a guest. They were dragging a man on a heavy iron leash. Ethan's eyes widened as he recognized the figure. It was Axhel.

The once-arrogant commander was now stripped of all his gear and clothing, wearing nothing but a thick, jagged metal collar around his neck. He was forced to crawl on all fours like a common street dog, his face gaunt and demancrated. It was clear Ross had spent the last few hours "entertaining" himself with Axhel's suffering.

"I hope you consider our sincerity, Mr. Blake," Ross said, his voice dripping with polite malice. "Here is a token of our goodwill. This man was the one who attacked someone he shouldn't have, and he must pay dearly for his lack of foresight."

One of the Genetic Soldiers stepped forward and, with a deep, respectful bow, offered the end of the heavy iron chain to Ethan.

Ross continued, his smile thin and sharp. "He is yours now. You may do with him as you wish; he shall be your slave for the remainder of his miserable life. Here is the Authority Seal for him," Ross added, holding out a small, metallic disc. "It is recognized globally. You can kill him, play with him, or break him further. Any choice you make is perfectly valid in our eyes..."

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