The whimpering of the injured man was a pathetic sound in the rain-soaked alley.
He crawled backward, dragging his unnaturally bent arm, his face a mask of white-hot pain and stark terror.
His two friends, who had been laughing just minutes before, were still frozen.
Their brains simply could not process the scene.
The weak, scrawny kid was gone.
In his place stood something cold and dangerous.
"Do not let them leave," Kaelan's voice commanded inside Leo's mind.
"He knows their hideout."
"He knows their leaders."
"Make him talk."
Leo's heart hammered against his ribs.
Make him talk?
He was a student. He wrote essays on theoretical physics. He didn't… interrogate people.
He looked down at his own hands. They were steady. They felt like they belonged to someone else.
Then he looked at the thug. He saw the crimson serpent tattoo, vivid against the man's pale, sweaty skin.
He remembered the man's words, "You get to be the lesson."
He remembered the sharp, cracking sensation in his ribs.
A cold calmness took over, pushing his fear away.
Kaelan was right.
This was a different world. It had different rules.
"Boy, you are a warrior now," the spirit's voice was low, instructive. "A warrior needs information more than he needs a sword. Information is the map to your enemy's heart."
Leo took a slow, deliberate step forward.
His shadow fell over the injured leader, engulfing him.
The man flinched violently, like a cornered animal.
"Stay back!" he yelped, his voice cracking. "Stay away from me!"
The other two thugs finally snapped out of their trance.
"Hey, man, what did you do to him?" the wiry one stammered, his earlier cruelty gone, replaced by a deep, instinctual fear.
"Let's just go," the third one whispered, already backing away towards the mouth of the alley. "This is… this is bad. This is real bad."
They were about to run.
"Stop them," Kaelan commanded, his tone flat. "A threat ignored is a threat that returns with friends. Show them why running is a mistake."
Leo's body moved with an efficiency that shocked him.
His new strength made him incredibly fast. It only took two steps to close the distance.
He reached the wiry thug first.
"His knee," Kaelan said, his voice as calm as a teacher explaining a simple problem. "A disabling blow. Not lethal. It sends a message."
Leo's leg snapped out in a low kick. It wasn't flashy. It was precise.
His foot connected with the side of the man's knee.
The man screamed, a high, thin sound, and collapsed in a heap, clutching his ruined leg. He wouldn't be running anywhere for a very long time.
The third thug stared in horror, his escape forgotten. He looked from his crippled friend to Leo, his eyes wide with utter terror.
He didn't run. He just dropped to his knees and put his hands on his head.
"Don't hurt me," he sobbed. "Please, I won't do nothin'. I won't say nothin'."
Leo turned his attention back to the leader.
He crouched down, bringing his face level with the whimpering man. The smell of fear was thick in the air.
"You mentioned the Crimson Serpent Syndicate," Leo said. His voice was quiet, but it carried a weight it had never possessed before.
"I… I don't know anything," the leader stammered, his eyes darting around wildly.
Kaelan scoffed in his mind. "A predictable lie. He is testing your resolve. Apply pressure. Not just to the body, but to the mind."
"Let me rephrase," Leo said, his voice dropping even lower. He reached out and gently, almost delicately, touched the man's broken arm.
The man shrieked and tried to pull away, but Leo's grip was like iron.
"You are going to tell me everything you know," Leo continued, his fingers tracing the line of the break. "You're going to give me the location of your local hideout. You're going to give me the name of your superior."
"I can't!" the thug cried, tears streaming down his face. "They'll kill me! Cobra will kill me!"
"Cobra?" Kaelan's voice was intrigued. "A name. Good. Now the location."
"He mentioned Cobra," Leo said aloud, his eyes never leaving the thug's. "He also seems to think Cobra is more dangerous than I am. I think we need to correct that misunderstanding."
He applied the slightest pressure to the broken bone.
The thug's scream was muffled by the damp alley walls.
"Okay! Okay! I'll talk!" he gasped, his body trembling uncontrollably. "Please, just stop!"
Leo released his arm.
"The name of your direct superior," he commanded.
"Spike," the man choked out between sobs. "His name is Spike. He's a junior leader."
"Spike," Leo repeated, committing the name to memory. "And where can I find Spike?"
"The old warehouse district!" the man blurted out. "Down by the docks! Warehouse 7! They use an old shipping company, 'Serpent Logistics,' as a front!"
He was spilling everything now, a dam of terror that had finally burst.
"How many men are there?" Leo asked.
"I don't know! Twenty, maybe thirty on a given night! Spike is always there. He's a cultivator! A real one! He'll kill you!"
"A cultivator," Kaelan mused. "The first real test. This is good."
Leo stood up, looking down at the three broken men. The lesson was complete. He had the information he needed.
"You've been very helpful," Leo said. The calm politeness of his tone was more terrifying than any shout.
The leader stared up at him, a sliver of hope in his eyes. "You'll… you'll let us go now, right?"
Kaelan's laughter was a cold, cruel sound in Leo's head. "Foolish vermin. Loose ends are for amateurs. They cannot be allowed to report back. Not yet."
Leo looked at the man on his knees, the one who had surrendered. "Give me your phone and your wallet."
The man fumbled in his pockets, his hands shaking so badly he could barely function. He handed them over.
Leo did the same for the other two. He now had a few hundred dollars in cash and three cheap phones.
"We need to make sure they can't warn anyone," Kaelan stated. "We don't want to walk into a prepared ambush. A concussion is sufficient. They will wake up with a headache and a story the police will never believe."
Leo's stomach churned. Knock them out? He had never…
But the image of them calling Spike, of dozens of armed men waiting for him at Warehouse 7, solidified his resolve.
He walked over to the man who had surrendered.
"I'm sorry," Leo whispered, a remnant of his old self speaking.
Then he brought the edge of his hand down on the back of the man's neck, a precise, calculated blow, just as Kaelan instructed.
The man's eyes rolled back, and he slumped forward without a sound.
He moved to the next one, the man with the broken leg, and did the same.
Finally, he stood over the leader.
The man's eyes were wide with a new kind of horror. He had given Leo everything, and this was his reward.
"You promised," he whispered.
"I promised to stop hurting you," Leo replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "And I will."
With one swift move, Leo knocked the leader out. He collapsed on the wet street.
Three bodies lay scattered on the ground, broken and unconscious.
Leo stood over them, and his heart was beating like crazy.
He had done it. He had fought back. He had crippled, interrogated, and disabled three men.
The frightened student who had entered this alley was gone.
He looked down at his hands, then at the cash he had taken. It wasn't much. A few crumpled bills.
He had power. He had a path to vengeance. He had a target.
But as he looked at the money, a new, cold, and practical thought entered his mind, a thought that was entirely his own.
Power was good. Vengeance was a goal.
But a warrior needs more than just a sword and information.
A warrior needs resources.
He walked out of the alley, leaving the darkness behind, the name "Spike" and "Warehouse 7" burning in his mind like a brand. He had a destination. He had an enemy. He had his first taste of power, and he found that it fit him surprisingly well. But one thought echoed louder than the rest. How was he going to fund this new war? This was just the beginning, and he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that his enemies had more money, more resources, and more power than he could possibly imagine.He won today, but he knew he would need much more to win the fights to come.
The system in his mind was silent, waiting for its next command. And Leo knew, as he stepped back into the light of the city streets, that his next great challenge wasn't a man or a gang.
It was his empty wallet.