The echo of Lara Xin's footsteps faded, leaving Yuhon alone in the smoldering silence of the warehouse.
Her warning hung in the air, a sensible, rational cloud amidst the ash. The kind of enemy a lone wolf should think twice about hunting.
He looked around at the carnage she had wrought. It was efficient, Devastating.
S-rank. And she had called the Grey Fog powerful, Ruthless.
A cold, determined smile spread beneath his mask. His parents hadn't raised him to be sensible. They'd raised him to be thorough.
He didn't need to think twice. He'd already made his decision the moment he'd seen those thirty-two bodies on the news.
The Grey Fog had declared war with that act of cold-blooded erasure. They just didn't know who they were fighting yet.
Lara's words about his incinerated jacket came back to him. Not a particularly practical one. She was right.
It was time to stop holding back. It was time to stop being a nuisance and start being a disaster.
He stood up from the crate, his body thrumming with unleashed power.
The projection of muscle melted away, replaced by his natural, leaner form, but now crackling with visible energy.
Scarlet lightning, the color of fresh blood, danced along his arms and across his bare shoulders. The air around him hummed, charged with ozone and intent.
He didn't run. He simply pushed off from the warehouse floor.
The world became a blur.
He moved, not with superhuman speed, but with something else entirely. He flowed through the night, a bolt of incarnate lightning.
He left the forest behind in a heartbeat, a streak of scarlet energy cutting across the countryside towards the distant glow of the city's waterfront.
Below, on the highways, cars were like sluggish insects crawling along the ground. He was a comet, and his trajectory was absolute.
The Youth's Gold casino wasn't hard to find. It was a gaudy, neon-smeared monstrosity on a pier, trying and failing to look expensive.
He didn't bother with the front door. He didn't bother with stealth.
He landed on the roof with a impact that shuddered through the entire structure.
The sound wasn't a thud; it was a sharp crack of splitting concrete and a simultaneous peal of thunder that rattled the windows.
Inside, the cheap crystal chandeliers swayed. The gamblers, dealers, and security guards froze for a split second, looking up.
"What the hell is happening?"
"Hey, the weather is clear a moment ago, from where the is that coming?"
"Did a gate appeared above the casino or what?"
"Bastard! it's my money give it ba..."
Then, the roof exploded inward with a concentrated storm of scarlet lightning.
A section of the ceiling vaporized, and through the hole, the Grinning Fox descended, wreathed in a maelstrom of bloody light.
He landed in the center of the main gambling floor, his feet touching the garish carpet.
The air sizzled. The slot machines around him flickered and died, their lights overloading with pops and fizzes.
For a moment, there was perfect, stunned silence. Then, the screaming started.
The Fox ignored it. His voice, when he spoke, was no longer a projected growl. It was calm, flat, and carried on the back of his power, cutting through the panic like a knife.
"I am here for the bagman. The one who handles the Grey Fog's drops. Everyone else has ten seconds to leave."
The head of security, a large man with a B-rank enhancer's aura, recovered first. He drew a stun baton that crackled with blue energy.
"You're making a big mistake, pal! This is a protected establishment!"
The Fox didn't even look at him. He flicked a finger.
A tendril of scarlet lightning, no thicker than a wire, lashed out.
It didn't hit the man. It hit the baton. The device didn't just short out; it superheated instantly, melting into the guard's hand.
The man screamed, staring in horror at the molten metal searing his flesh.
"Nine seconds," the Fox said, his voice still utterly calm.
That was all the motivation the crowd needed. A stampede began towards the exits.
Security mics shouted "Run! it's an emergency, a terror attack!"
"The hell! I already have lost a million and now a terror attack?"
"Fuck! forget money, I don't want to die as a virgin!"
The rest of the casino's security team, a mix of C and B-ranks, decided to be heroes. They charged, firing taser rounds, throwing elemental attacks, enhancers leading the pack.
The Fox finally moved.
Yuhon became the epicenter of a localized storm. He didn't throw punches; he pointed.
Bolts of scarlet lightning leaped from his fingertips, each one a precise, devastating strike.
A taser net was vaporized mid-air. An incoming fireball was met with a lance of lightning that detonated it harmlessly overhead.
An enhancer lunged, only to be casually backhanded; the touch carried a charge that sent him spasming through a blackjack table.
It was effortless. It was art. It was, he realized with a cold thrill, no weaker than what Lara Xin had displayed. It was, perhaps, even more focused, more controlled.
He walked through the chaos, a placid island in a storm of his own making. He reached the main cashier's cage.
The attendant, a woman with wide, terrified eyes, was frantically trying to lower a security shutter.
The Fox placed his hand on the rising metal. Scarlet energy spider-webbed across it. The motor screamed and died, the shutter freezing in place.
"The back rooms," he said, his voice quiet but impossible to ignore. "Where are they?"
She just stared, trembling, pointing a shaking finger towards a reinforced door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY.'
He turned towards it. Two more guards, the casino's A-ranks, stood before it. One held twin swords wreathed in wind; the other's body was sheathed in rock.
"Little fox, You can't go further," the rock-skinned one growled.
"A valiant sentiment," the Fox said. He didn't break stride.
"Let me do it, can't miss a chance to cut a rare fox..." The wind-sword user moved first, a blur of cutting air.
The Fox didn't slow down. He raised his open palm.
The hurricane-force winds hit an invisible wall of crackling scarlet energy and dissipated into a harmless breeze.
"Die you little bastard!" The rock-skinned man roared, charging like a battering ram.
The Fox simply sidestepped and placed his hand on the man's back as he passed.
A surge of power, not enough to kill, but enough to overwhelm, coursed through the man. The stone skin cracked, and he dropped to his knees, groaning, his nervous system scrambled.
The wind-sword user stared, his confidence shattered. He dropped his swords, the clatter loud in the sudden quiet.
"Good, you understood quickly" The Fox walked past him to the reinforced door.
He didn't bother with the lock. He placed his palm flat against the metal. Scarlet energy concentrated into a searing point.
There was a brief, intense shower of sparks, and a perfectly circular section of the door melted away, the edges glowing molten orange.
He stepped through into a dimly lit hallway. At the end was another door, this one open, revealing a small, cluttered office.
A sweaty, balding man in a cheap suit was frantically shoving stacks of cash and ledgers into a briefcase.
The bagman.
He looked up, his face a mask of pure terror as the Fox filled the doorway.
"No, please! I'm just the accountant! I just move the money! I don't know anything!"
The Fox stepped into the room. The air crackled around him. "The Grey Fog. Where are they?"
"I don't know! I swear!" the man whimpered, cowering behind the desk.
"I get a call! A number, it's always different! They tell me a location, a time! I go, I pick up the package, I bring the money here! I never see anyone! It's just a bag left in a dumpster or a locker! That's all I know!"
The Fox believed him. The man radiated the pathetic fear of a true middleman, a cog who knew his only value was his ignorance. He was another dead end.
But the briefcase. The ledgers.
The Fox pointed at the case. "That is mine now."
The man scrambled back, nodding frantically. "Yes! Take it! Take it all! Just don't hurt me!"
The Fox picked up the briefcase. He turned to leave, then paused. He looked back at the cowering man.
"When they call," the Fox said, his voice devoid of any threat, simply stating a fact, "you will tell them the Grinning Fox took their money. You will tell them I am coming for them. Do you understand?"
The man nodded so vigorously his jowls shook. "Y-yes! I'll tell them! I promise!"
Satisfied, the Fox turned and walked back through the ruined casino. The main floor was empty now, save for the groaning guards. Sirens wailed in the distance.
He walked out the shattered front entrance onto the pier.
He simply took a final step off the edge and vanished into the night, a streak of scarlet lightning returning to the shadows from whence it came, leaving behind a trail of ruined electronics, shattered confidence, and a very clear message.
The lone wolf wasn't just hunting. He had their scent. And he was infinitely more dangerous than anyone had ever imagined.