Ethan walked through the smoking ruins of the restaurant, his boots crunching over shattered crystal and twisted metal. The air reeked of ozone and charred flesh. He stopped in front of Sarah, who remained huddled in her chair, her eyes wide and her face as pale as wax. The pink aura that had once emanated seduction was now a thin, vibrating thread of pure terror.

"Let's go," said Ethan, extending his hand.

Sarah looked at the carnage around her—men who minutes ago were professional waiters were now nothing more than blackened heaps on the floor. She didn't say a word; fear had stolen her voice. She took Ethan's hand with trembling fingers, stood up, and walked by his side, allowing herself to be led like an automaton toward the exit.

As they crossed the main doors of The Gilded Lily, the scene outside was even more suffocating. In front of the restaurant, ten Royal armored SUVs were arranged in a perfect defensive arc. In the center, Falcon 20 was gesturing frantically while barking instructions into his intercom. Seeing Ethan emerge unharmed, the security leader rushed toward him, his face drenched in sweat and tension.

"Thank God you're alright, Boss. We haven't been able to move an inch; they have us completely besieged," said Falcon 20.

Ethan looked up and evaluated the situation. Beyond the perimeter of his men, an endless sea of black SUVs and soldiers in heavy tactical gear closed off every street. It was an ocean of steel and armed men—an occupation force in the heart of the city.

"Boss, we don't have enough people to face this," Falcon 20 whispered, lowering his voice so Sarah wouldn't hear. "I only have 20 soldiers on foot here, 5 snipers on the surrounding rooftops, and 2 gunships on standby. If we try to move, they'll annihilate us before we cross the first intersection. That's why I held the position... it was suicide to advance."

Ethan looked at each of his men, who gripped their rifles with white knuckles, fully aware they were outnumbered ten to one. Then, he fixed his gaze on the enemy lines of Parthenon and the Scavengers.

"Get ready," said Ethan, his voice cutting through the air with a terrifying calm. "We are going to carve a path right through them."

Falcon 20 blinked, stunned by the near-suicidal order, but his trust in Ethan was absolute. If the man who had just massacred a squad with lightning said they would advance, they would advance.

"You heard the Boss!" shouted Falcon 20, his voice booming for all his subordinates to hear. "Assault formation! Prep your magazines and secure the perimeters! Nobody retreats!"

As the Royal soldiers responded with a coordinated war cry and the metallic clatter of weapons being chambered filled the air, Falcon 20 took a deep breath. A fleeting thought crossed his mind: This might be my last fight, but if I'm going down today, I swear I'm taking at least ten of those sons of bitches with me.

Ethan moved forward beyond the protective arc of his own SUVs, leaving Sarah behind.

His eyes flashed once more with that electric blue glow, and the air around his fists began to distort from the rising heat.

"Tell the snipers to prioritize the commanders. Falcon, follow me. No one fires until I give the word," said Ethan.

Falcon 20 signaled his men to hold, though every finger was twitching on a trigger. Ethan walked with measured steps, his eyes glowing with that predatory sapphire light. Opposite him, the enemy ranks parted. These weren't the panicked thugs from the restaurant; these were seasoned killers who stood with the stillness of statues. They knew that sieging a monster always ended in a bloodbath, but to them, Ethan was just another "anomaly" to be put down.

Three figures emerged from the sea of black uniforms.

In the center was a woman with a sharp, gothic aesthetic—clad in midnight-black leather adorned with jagged silver spikes that caught the streetlights. To her left was a young man pushed up his glasses; he looked like a scholar, his eyes bright with a cold, analytical intelligence. To her right stood a massive, scarred mountain of a man, his muscles bulging against his tactical vest, his face a roadmap of past violence.

The two groups stopped just feet apart. The air between them felt heavy, pressurized by the clashing auras.

"So, you're the bastard who killed my son," said the scarred man, his voice a low growl that vibrated in his chest.

Ethan looked him up and down with bored indifference. "You must be one of those Scavenger idiots. You took your sweet time getting here," said Ethan.

"We don't have time to waste on trash like you, but it seems you've been sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," said the scarred man, his fists clenching until his knuckles turned white.

"Did you come all this way just to talk? Or are we going to have some real fun?" asked Ethan.

Ethan didn't wait for an answer. He released his power. High-voltage sapphire lightning erupted from his shoulders, coiling around his arms like hungry serpents. The sheer pressure of the discharge cracked the asphalt beneath his boots, yet the three leaders in front of him didn't even flinch.

The gothic woman took a step forward, a mocking smile playing on her dark lips. "You're just a little fish, boy. Don't act like a Great White," said the woman.

She raised her hand toward Ethan's face, her fingers curling as if to stroke his cheek. The movement was too close for the Royal snipers. Losing their nerves at the perceived threat to their leader, five synchronized shots rang out from the rooftops.

Five streaks of lead whistled through the air, aimed directly at the woman's head.

In a blur of motion that defied human physics, the young man with glasses moved. He appeared in front of the woman in an instant, his hands extended. Five small, hexagonal shields of shimmering translucent energy manifested in the air, catching the sniper rounds mid-flight. The bullets pancaked against the barriers and dropped to the ground with a metallic chime.

"Predictable. Your men lack discipline," said the young man, adjusting his glasses as the shields hummed with power.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. This wasn't just technology or brute force. This was something else.

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