The two fighters moved deeper into the open section of the warehouse.
Crates were scattered across the floor. Broken lights hung overhead.
The gunfire from the previous area faded until only distant echoes remained.
Now, only the two of them stood in the wide space. They no longer needed to be held back by their weaker companions.
Daryl rolled his shoulders, his dagger spinning between his fingers.
At first, Francis thought the wind blade came from Daryl's own ability, but after observing closely, he realized the weapon was vibrating at a high frequency.
Daryl was simply directing the attack, using it to create pressurized air.
Of course, this wouldn't be possible without great physical strength—the level of control needed to handle the dagger was far beyond that of an average human.
The same could be said for his opponent's whip, which stretched and contracted in a strange way, allowing her to control it more precisely.
Daryl broke the silence first.
"I'm afraid I have to kill you. Sorry. I won't hold back just because you're a woman. I believe in gender equality."
She didn't respond. Her grip tightened. The whip retreated slightly, like a snake preparing to strike.
Then both moved.
His body blurred forward, closing the distance in no time. The dagger carved a diagonal slash aimed at her neck.
The whip snapped upward.
Clang—
His strategy shattered as the whip struck mid-air, sparks scattering across the concrete floor.
To counter, he twisted his body. Three crescent wind blades shot forward in rapid succession.
She stepped sideways and lashed her whip in quick bursts. Each strike shattered the incoming wind blades before they reached her. Then her weapon snapped forward like lightning.
crack!
Daryl ducked, but the tip still grazed his shoulder. His jacket tore open. A thin line of blood followed.
He clicked his tongue.
Fast.
She was faster than expected. Her whip moved with barely any motion from her wrist, making her attacks harder to predict.
In contrast, he had to move his whole arm to generate wind attacks, which slowed his response and left clearer openings.
He tried to mitigate it by closing the gap between them, but it didn't work the way he expected.
While the two studied each other, the real predator watched from the sidelines. His pupils shrank to thin points.
'He's good. Faster overall, but she's more efficient. No wasted movement.'
Her eyes drifted toward Francis, but he stayed still. She quickly lost interest and turned her attention elsewhere. One of the perks of being a small animal.
'The way she positions herself… always aware of her surroundings. That kind of discipline doesn't come from casual fighting. That's military training.'
Just as he finished his observation, the two clashed again. This time, Daryl took more hits, though none were serious enough to slow him down.
Still, it worried Francis. If it turned too one-sided, things would become troublesome later.
The best outcome was for both fighters to stay evenly matched and drain their strength.
Daryl dashed in again, faster than before. His dagger carved through the air, releasing three compressed wind blades in quick succession.
The first blade shattered. The second skimmed past her shoulder, slicing a strand of hair. The third forced her to leap sideways.
She landed lightly, then retaliated. Each swing grew heavier, forcing him to retreat step by step.
The concrete cracked beneath his boots as he redirected the force.
"Enough." Daryl suddenly ducked and spun. A wide wind blade shot out, forcing her to leap back.
Both stopped, breathing heavier than before. Sweat formed along their brows.
crack!
The female agent advanced first.
"You're getting too cocky, Miss Defense Force—" Daryl didn't just dodge.
He stepped forward instead, closing the distance in a sudden burst of speed.
A thin blade of wind shot toward her shoulder. She deflected it with a timely snap, but a second blade followed immediately after. Then a third.
He used the short distance to launch a burst combo, breaking her pacing.
"Where's that confidence from before, Miss?" Daryl taunted, eyes scanning the blood trickling across her arms and shoulders.
Piece by piece, he was dismantling her defenses.
Finally, a gap appeared. He went for her neck.
"ARGH!" Daryl ground his teeth, fighting through the sudden pain. His eyes landed on a sewer rat clinging to him—its timing couldn't have been worse.
Her whip snaked around his neck. It grazed his skin, and he knew it was over—but he wasn't going to die alone. Summoning every ounce of strength, he slashed at her.
thud!
A low crack pop, and he crashed to the ground, dead.
She wasted no time, quickly stopping the bleeding from her partially severed neck—deep cuts had sliced through her veins.
Others would have already passed out in her situation, but she managed just enough control to survive until first aid.
Then, a new sensation hit her throat—something was forcing its way in.
She thought it was Daryl who miraculously survived—but what she saw made her gasp in terror.
A rat gnawed relentlessly at her neck, cutting off her air. She fell hard, coughing and vomiting blood.
When Francis sensed her death, he tore into her abdomen without mercy.
His sharp teeth worked fast, reaching for her liver. She convulsed violently, blood spilling from her mouth and nose as her already dead body crumpled.
[DING]
[Congratulations, Host. You have devoured a Special Category human liver. System is now assessing its value.]
[+45 Human livers]
Sweet. His guess was right.
[Innate Talent Absorbed: Spring Joints]
[Enhances the bones and joints of the wrist and forearm, allowing the user to generate tremendous force with minimal movement. ]
[The Host can now apply the same traits to any organism he merges with.]
Francis showed no emotion, but he was very satisfied with his haul. The ways he could apply this innate talent were countless.
He burrowed out of her abdomen and moved on to the next corpse.
The thrill of knowing he had another chance to claim a new innate talent was addictive.