Silence dominated the heavy air of the warehouse.
Trent smiled — his breathing steady, his muscles tense — while Roshi stood before him, staff firm in hand and eyes calm, serene… almost defiant.
Kimberly felt her heart pounding in her chest.
She knew how powerful Roshi was, but she also knew how monstrous an Omega-level werewolf could be.
Trent took a step forward, his shadow stretching across the cracked floor.
"Not planning to run, old man?" he mocked, cracking his neck. "I don't usually pick on your age group, but you seem different."
Roshi smiled faintly.
"Unlike you, I don't fight for fun."
The provocation made Trent burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! That's what I like to hear! Then show me what an old mortal can do!"
Without warning, he vanished in a leap.
In an instant, he was behind Roshi, swinging a brutal strike — but the old man spun gracefully, deflecting with his staff and striking Trent in the ribs.
The impact echoed through the air.
The werewolf staggered back, surprised.
"Hm… too fast for a mortal."
Roshi adjusted his stance, breath controlled, gaze unwavering.
"Speed is useless when body and mind are not in harmony."
Trent snarled, veins bulging, and lunged again.
The sound of claws slicing the air mixed with the metallic hum of Roshi's staff.
The fight turned into a violent dance — raw power against refined technique.
Roshi dodged, redirected, countered in precise movements. Each strike was deliberate.
But Trent was a storm incarnate — each motion shook the ground, and within minutes, the warehouse resembled a warzone.
Tory watched in awe.
"He's still keeping up with that beast…" she whispered.
Kimberly nodded, eyes fixed on the battle.
"It's not just strength. It's experience. He's fought worse."
A sharp strike from Roshi's staff hit Trent under the jaw, sending him stumbling back.
The werewolf leader wiped the blood from his lip and grinned, excited.
"Old man… you're amazing," he said, laughing. "But don't you think this is all kind of pointless?"
Roshi didn't answer. He just twirled the staff and shifted position.
Trent pointed his claws, eyes glowing with a furious blue light.
"I know what you're thinking!" he shouted. "This kid lost his way — turned into a monster!"
He spread his arms wide.
"But look around! The world belongs to the strong — it always has! I'm just clearing the weak from my pack!"
Roshi held his ground.
"You're not cleansing anything, boy. You're destroying what you should protect."
He stepped closer, voice firm.
"A true alpha doesn't lead through fear. He leads through respect."
He raised his staff, pointing it at Trent's chest.
"You're not worthy of the power you carry."
Trent's grin vanished.
A feral roar filled the warehouse.
He rushed forward so fast he became a blur — and then drove his claws into Roshi's abdomen.
Kimberly screamed, "Roshi!"
Blood spilled, but the old man didn't fall.
He grabbed Trent's arm with surprising strength.
"Pain… is just a reminder…" he murmured.
Twisting his body, he redirected Trent's force and struck his abdomen with a quick, crushing blow.
"…A reminder that I'm still alive. And that you're wrong."
Trent stumbled back, groaning, then charged again.
Within seconds, they were trading blows once more — but now rage and exhaustion ruled the werewolf's movements.
Suddenly, Trent grabbed Roshi and slammed him to the ground, mounting him and throwing a barrage of savage punches.
Each impact made the floor tremble.
Kimberly rushed forward, but Tory held her back.
"Not yet! He told us to wait!"
"He's gonna die!" Kim shouted, desperate.
Before she could move, a shadow crossed the battleground — Ryan.
Staggering and bloodied, he threw himself at Trent, shoving him aside.
"Enough!" he yelled. "That's enough, Trent!"
The entire warehouse went silent.
Ryan's breathing was rough, his face bruised.
"All of this… it's wrong."
He looked around, meeting the eyes of every gang member.
"The human just wanted to save his son — and we almost killed him for it!"
Then he turned to Trent.
"We've become the very thing we used to despise. Weak."
Trent stood motionless, his gaze distant.
The words echoed like ghosts of the past.
"Steel Fangs — to fight, to have fun, and to grow stronger together."
He closed his eyes, breathing heavily.
When he opened them again, his blue pupils flickered.
He looked around, as if Ryan's words had awakened something long buried.
Slowly, Trent stepped back and dropped to his knees before his pack.
"I… let myself be blinded," he said, his voice low and rough.
"Forgive me."
The other wolves exchanged stunned glances.
Trent turned to Kimberly, Tory, and Roshi.
"And to you… I'm sorry."
Kimberly said nothing. She just watched — seeing in him the reflection of what Ryan had tried to save.
Then Trent looked toward Malik — the young human trembling beside his father.
"You don't need this anymore, kid," he said softly.
"Go help your dad. Be free."
The boy ran into his father's arms. Hector embraced him, tears falling as he whispered words of gratitude to Kimberly and the others.
It seemed, finally, that everything was over…
But then—
Trent's hand clutched his abdomen, as if something inside was burning.
Ryan grabbed his shoulders.
"Trent?! What's happening?!"
The werewolf lifted his shirt — and everyone froze.
A glowing mark — a circle filled with dark symbols — burned on his skin.
"I…" Trent let out a bitter laugh. "I'm sorry, brother. I don't think I can turn back now."
He looked at Ryan, eyes filled with sorrow.
"The power I gained… it didn't come for free."
From the shadows, a feminine laugh echoed — cold and seductive.
A woman emerged — tall, pale, draped in dark veils and purple smoke.
"Hahaha… Fascinating. I warned you the price would be high, my little wolf."
Kimberly clenched her fists.
"You… who are you?"
The woman smiled, showing her fangs.
"Call me Karmila. A pleasure to finally meet you in person."
Beside her, a tall armored figure stepped forward — silver plates shaped like a samurai's armor, a metal mask resembling a wolf's face.
His eyes glowed faint purple.
He spoke with a deep, commanding voice.
"We've come to claim what belongs to us."
Trent turned, resigned.
"I understand… this was my deal."
Ryan tried to stop him.
"No! You can fight it!"
Trent shoved him away, hard.
"Thank you… for reminding me who I was."
Kimberly tried to charge forward, but the masked figure moved faster than her eyes could follow — striking her and sending her crashing into the wall.
The concrete cracked on impact.
Tory ran to her, shouting her name.
Karmila chuckled softly.
"Kimberly Kramer…" she said, savoring each syllable.
"I've met your family before."
Kimberly's eyes widened.
"What…?"
Karmila smiled, whispering,
"We'll meet again, half-blood."
Before anyone could react, the two vanished into the shadows — taking Trent with them.
Silence fell once more.
Rain began to pour outside.
Ryan dropped to his knees and punched the ground, growling in frustration.
Kimberly stared at the spot where Karmila had disappeared, her pendant faintly trembling — as if it reacted to the witch's name.
Tory approached, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Kim…"
The huntress stood, eyes cold and resolute.
"I'm going after her."
The wind howled, tossing her hair across her face.
"Whoever that woman is… she knows too much about my past."
Silence filled the bloodstained warehouse — now just echoes of battle, regret, and ghosts of choices made.
The flickering lights reflected off puddles of dark water. The air reeked of iron and smoke. In the distance, police sirens merged with the faint howl of a lone wolf, perhaps mourning what was lost.
Kimberly rose, wiping the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand as her wounds began to heal.
Tory helped Roshi to his feet, the old hunter clutching his bandaged abdomen. Though wounded, his eyes still burned with the strength that kept them together.
Hector and Malik stood nearby, the boy sobbing quietly in his father's arms.
The mission was over — or so they wanted to believe.
Kim glanced around at the wreckage, Karmila's words echoing endlessly in her mind.
"I've met your family before…"
That sentence cut deeper than any claw.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself, and nodded.
"Let's go," she said firmly, not looking back. "The fight's over."
Roshi nodded silently, and the three of them began to walk toward the vehicle outside.
Mandy and Roberto were waiting near the van, their faces tense, full of questions that would have to wait.
Then — footsteps echoed behind them.
"Wait!" a hoarse voice called out.
Kim turned. Ryan was stumbling toward them, bruised, bleeding, eyes no longer fierce but full of guilt, confusion… and fear.
He stopped a few meters away, chest heaving, blood trickling down his chin.
"I know I don't have the right to ask anything…" he began, his voice cracking.
"But… I need your help."
Tory narrowed her eyes.
"Help? After everything you've done?"
Ryan swallowed hard.
"I… I saw what that witch did to Trent. He didn't go willingly… but he wasn't free either."
He clenched his fists.
"That mark… it was killing him from the inside."
Kim said nothing. She just watched, her gaze sharp, analyzing every word.
"Please," Ryan said, stepping closer, his voice trembling.
"I can't let him die because of something I let happen. He's my friend — and I let him fall."
A heavy silence filled the air.
The wind rattled the metal walls — echoing the rhythm of Kimberly's heartbeat.
Tory looked at her, waiting for an answer. Roshi, too — his eyes saying, Think carefully.
Kim looked at Ryan for a long moment. She didn't see a monster — only someone who had lost his way, just like she had, once.
She stepped closer until they stood face to face.
"Do you know where they took him?" she asked.
Ryan shook his head.
"No… but I can track her scent."
Kim took a deep breath.
Then, to everyone's surprise, she extended her hand to him.
"Then let's bring him back."
Ryan's eyes widened.
"You… you'll help me?"
Kim glanced away toward the dark horizon.
"No one deserves to be a slave. Not even a lost wolf."
Roshi smiled faintly, tired but proud. Mandy and Roberto exchanged uncertain glances but said nothing.
Tory sighed, crossing her arms.
"You're unpredictable, Kim."
Kim smirked.
"And that's why we're still alive."
She turned back to Ryan, her voice resolute.
"Get ready. Tomorrow, we hunt."
As they walked toward the van, the full moon rose above Wadron City. The cold wind carried the scent of what was to come, another hunt, not just for monsters…
but for redemption.