The instant Richard flashed into the open parking lot, he didn't pause to reassess. He moved immediately, closing the distance to the special forces clustered near the armored vehicle. Even with a super physique, he understood his limits. The enhanced body he had plundered from Luther was only a beta-level ability, strong compared to ordinary humans but far from invulnerable.
Small-caliber rounds could be resisted to a degree, especially at range. However, armor-piercing ammunition or high-caliber sniper fire would still punch through him without mercy. He had never personally stress-tested the upper threshold of his durability, but the inherited memory made one thing clear: recklessness against modern firearms would be fatal.
He chose offense over defense.
"Earth-Shaking."
The silver-white blade carved through the air like a streak of lightning. Four consecutive slashes unfolded in a seamless chain, each one precise and devastating. The special forces at the front didn't even have time to adjust their aim before their bodies were split open.
But it wasn't just flesh that yielded.
The arc of the authentic sword continued past them, biting into the armored vehicle beside them. Steel that could withstand sustained rifle fire parted like fruit under a kitchen knife. The vehicle split into multiple sections with a metallic shriek, collapsing in a ruin of shredded plating.
For a heartbeat, the remaining soldiers froze.
Then training took over.
Rifles snapped into position, fingers squeezed triggers, and a barrage erupted.
Gunfire thundered across the lot in a deafening chorus. Muzzle flashes stuttered in rapid succession, bullets tearing through the space Richard had occupied an instant before.
He was already gone.
Flash activated without delay, relocating him more than ten meters behind their formation. To them, he simply vanished and reappeared in their blind spot, an impossible displacement that shattered any sense of battlefield control.
He did not repeat Earth-Shaking.
Instead, he shifted to another technique.
"Residual Heart."
The blade swept outward in a horizontal cut, and crescent-shaped sword energy burst free. The arcs glowed with a purple outer edge and pale inner core, slicing forward with high-speed precision.
The sounds that followed were wet and abrupt.
Body armor, tactical vests, reinforced fabric—none of it mattered. The crescent waves passed through the soldiers as though through air, cleaving flesh and bone in the same motion. Several men collapsed mid-turn, their weapons clattering uselessly against asphalt.
From the moment he flashed out of the restaurant to the final sweep of Residual Heart, barely three seconds had passed.
More than half the squad lay dead.
Seven or eight remained, shock etched across their faces. Against an opponent like this, numbers meant nothing. It was only a matter of time.
Richard tightened his grip, preparing to finish them.
"He's mine. Don't interfere."
Inesa's voice cut through the chaos, smooth but firm.
Before the remaining soldiers could react, an invisible force struck Richard squarely in the torso. It felt like being hit by a speeding truck. His body lifted off the ground and hurtled backward toward the street.
He refused to land badly.
Flash activated again just before impact, displacing him midair. He reappeared back inside the parking lot, boots touching down lightly as he steadied himself. His eyes locked onto Inesa, his expression no longer casual.
The earlier strike had not seriously injured him, but it had corrected his assumptions.
He had initially believed her ability merely deflected incoming attacks. That conclusion had been incomplete. The same power could be projected outward as a direct offensive force.
She possessed at least three abilities.
Psychic charm. Kinetic deflection and projection. Teleportation with unknown range limits.
A mutant with multiple awakened powers was rarely weak. Quantity alone did not determine lethality, but versatility dramatically increased combat value.
Inesa studied him openly, her gaze lingering with unconcealed interest. Seeing him summon the massive sword and use Flash had surprised her. Watching him annihilate over a dozen trained operatives in seconds fascinated her.
Mutants sometimes awakened two powers initially. That wasn't unheard of. However, combat proficiency at this level so soon after awakening was unusual. Most mutants required months, sometimes years, just to adapt to their abilities without injuring themselves.
Yet Richard moved like a seasoned combatant.
She didn't know why.
She only knew she wanted to find out.
For several seconds they regarded one another, the ruined parking lot silent except for distant traffic and the faint crackle of damaged electronics. Then Inesa raised her right hand.
The moment her fingers lifted, a surge of compressed force launched toward him.
Richard couldn't see the shockwave, but the mental isolation ability fed him warning signals. Danger flared in his mind.
He vanished.
The invisible blast tore through the space he had occupied and smashed into the vehicle behind him.
Boom.
The car lifted off the ground as if swatted by a giant hand, flipping through the air and crashing into the middle of the street beyond the lot. Glass shattered outward in a spray, and alarms began wailing.
This shockwave was far stronger than the previous one.
Richard's eyes sharpened.
That ability was valuable. Extremely valuable.
He adjusted his grip on the sword and prepared to deploy Eight-Blade Flash. If executed properly, it would overwhelm her before she could react.
A thunderous crash erupted from inside the restaurant.
Richard's focus flicked toward the source.
An enormous figure burst through the front window in a shower of glass. Sabretooth's body sailed outward and slammed hard onto the hood of a nearby car, metal crumpling under the impact.
The distance he had been thrown—over ten meters—spoke volumes about the force behind it.
Whoever had done that possessed strength well beyond ordinary human limits.
Under the combined gazes of Richard and Inesa, Sabretooth pushed himself upright almost immediately. Shards of glass slid from his shoulders as his wounds began closing in real time. For someone with accelerated regeneration, being hurled through a window was inconvenient, not catastrophic.
Richard didn't rush to assist.
Sabretooth could endure.
Instead, he scanned the restaurant interior.
Clarice was nowhere in sight.
A faint distortion lingered near one of the walls—an unstable shimmer where space had been bent moments earlier. He recognized the pattern.
She had opened a portal and left.
Clarice's ability was ill-suited for direct confrontation but exceptional for escape. If she wasn't restrained instantly, capture became nearly impossible. Given the situation inside, retreat had been the logical choice.
He returned his attention to Inesa.
"Was that girl your girlfriend?"
Her voice floated across the lot, light and teasing despite the destruction around them. Her head tilted slightly, golden hair catching the afternoon sun.
The question carried no immediate threat, yet the undercurrent beneath it was anything but casual.
.....
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