Chapter 20: Growth Tempered by Blood

Chapter Twenty: Growth Through Bloodshed

The newcomer arrived on a motorcycle, moving with caution. Instead of entering the forest directly, he pulled out his phone and made a call. At this moment, Xia Zheng was like a giant spider, weaving a vast web with the tendrils of his psychic power. Part of his focus monitored the newcomer, while the rest kept watch on Johnny and his men. Through his senses, he perceived that it was Xu Yang, the young man, who answered the call.

"Where are you?" the caller asked.

"You don't need to know. I have to confirm you're alone. I’ll show up when it’s time," Xu Yang replied, perfectly mimicking Clark's voice. This wasn’t a supernatural ability—just pure talent.

Sure enough, the caller relaxed. The more cautious "Clark" appeared, the more at ease he seemed.

"Don’t worry, I came alone. I was worried you’d set a trap for me," the man reassured him. They exchanged coded phrases, further settling his nerves.

Ten minutes later, Xu Yang appeared before the newcomer, feigning excessive caution. The man was a wiry fellow, a head shorter than Xu Yang, but looked tough.

"So, you're Clark?" the wiry man asked.

"That’s right," Xu Yang nodded.

"You’re not quite what I expected..." The man scrutinized Xu Yang’s face, as if weighing something.

Xu Yang shot him a fierce glare. "Cut the crap. I’m risking everything selling you this information. If the Heavenblade Squad or Johnny’s Brotherhood find out, I’m dead."

"Oh? And what will you do afterward?" the wiry man asked with curiosity.

"What else? Take your money and disappear. The Federation is vast—I’ll find somewhere to hide." Xu Yang’s performance was flawless; even Xia Zheng, had he not seen the real Clark, might have been fooled.

As expected, this answer eased the man's suspicions further. He walked over to his bike, pulled out a case, and opened it. Xia Zheng’s psychic senses instantly "saw" it—a case packed with Federation bills, all in the largest denomination of a hundred. Each bundle was likely ten thousand, and the case held several hundred thousand at least.

"We agreed on a million. Why is there only this much?" Xu Yang demanded angrily.

The wiry man hefted the case, sneering, "Half now. Once I confirm the intel, I’ll transfer you the rest."

"You—fine. Come with me," Xu Yang said, feigning reluctant resignation. He led the way, with the wiry man following, eyes scanning warily. Xia Zheng withdrew part of his psychic web to avoid detection.

The wiry man followed Xu Yang deep into the woods, arriving at the planned ambush site.

"Wait... something’s off..." the wiry man suddenly halted, but Xu Yang broke into a sprint and dashed ahead.

"Damn it!" The wiry man spun around, but it was too late. Xu Yang and six others surrounded him.

"Be smart—drop the cash and spill the info," Johnny threatened, pistol in hand, echoed by the others.

"Interesting... You small-timers dare ambush the Fallen Wings? You’re courting death!" The wiry man set down the case. Suddenly, a surge of supernatural power erupted—his clothes tore as he transformed into a werewolf before their eyes.

"Attack!" Johnny and his men opened fire. The werewolf raised a claw, bullets sparking against its hide. It moved with terrifying speed, closing in on a gunman who, not being an ability user, was just an ordinary hunter. Too close to flee, he was struck down with a sweep of the werewolf’s claw—blood and gore splattered the ground, his body cleaved in two.

One strike, one kill. Against such power, even trained men were helpless.

The werewolf’s claws and fur were inexplicably tough, deflecting bullets. Though it sustained some wounds, the attackers stood no chance.

Each time the werewolf lashed out, another of Johnny’s men fell. In the blink of an eye, three lay dead.

"Roar!" Johnny could bear it no longer and transformed—he too was a superhuman. His clothes shredded as his body morphed into a mighty black bull, charging the werewolf with immense force.

Boom!

The bull and the werewolf collided. The werewolf, overpowered, staggered back, earth piling at its heels—unable to halt Johnny’s charge.

Of the three remaining, Xu Yang appeared to be a strength-type ability user; he didn’t transform or manipulate elements, but his arms grew stronger and faster. He seized a machete, hacking wildly at the werewolf held by Johnny. His blows were swift, but the werewolf’s fur was tough—even sparks sometimes flew from the strikes.

The other two transformed as well; one became a crocodile, clamping its jaws onto the werewolf’s thigh. The last turned into a vine-creature, summoning tendrils to bind the werewolf’s claws, impeding its attacks.

Assailed by four, the werewolf began to bleed—thigh, head, and chest wounded, blood soaking its body.

Xia Zheng analyzed their combat strength: Johnny was likely C-rank, the other three D-rank. The werewolf, at least C-rank, was outnumbered and pinned down—its defeat seemed certain.

"Courting death!" But as Xia Zheng judged the tide had turned, the werewolf roared in fury. Its body swelled, fur turning blood-red. It kicked Johnny’s bull-form flying, broke free of the vines, and lashed out at the three attackers—each lost an arm, blood gushing.

This was the first time Xia Zheng had seen such a display—like a "berserk" transformation in a game. In this state, the werewolf’s strength and speed soared, enabling it to break the encirclement instantly.

Now, with enhanced attack and speed, the werewolf hunted the three, who, unable to retrieve their severed arms, scattered in terror. One by one, they were caught and slain. A minute later, the werewolf returned, clutching the heads of Xu Yang and the others.

Johnny had escaped, but the werewolf tossed aside the severed heads, shook its arms with a howl, and pursued.

Only once the werewolf had gone did Xia Zheng emerge from hiding. The thick stench of blood made him retch, especially at the sight of Xu Yang and his comrades’ lifeless faces—death, brutal and final. This is what battles between ability users meant—bloody slaughter, with no victory but survival.

Suppressing his revulsion, Xia Zheng searched for Clark’s confession notebook, which held valuable, albeit incomplete, intelligence about the mine. He had seen, through surveillance, Xu Yang burying the notebook nearby before dying.

He extended his psychic tendrils in case the werewolf returned, while digging into the earth.

Minutes ticked by. At last, he unearthed a bundle—inside were personal items, several bank cards, and the notebook.

Flipping through, Xia Zheng found Clark’s recorded memories—details on the mine, including how to remove disguises and find the entrance, though the precise location was missing.

A sudden psychic warning—someone was returning. Xia Zheng stuffed the notebook into his jacket, erased signs of his digging, and hid. He knew running now would only expose him further.

The werewolf returned, holding Johnny’s head and tossing it with the others—a savage, brutal man, victorious but wounded.

"Damn it. Tricked by these scum. But if I get the mine’s intel, everything will be worth it." He reverted to human form and quickly treated his wounds—most were superficial, nothing uncommon for one like him, though deeper injuries would need a hospital.

Afterward, he seized Johnny’s head, and a familiar psychic energy emanated—he too possessed psychic abilities. Xia Zheng felt a chill—he’d been observing him psychically before.

"Think I wouldn’t kill you for intel? My Soul Reaping Method will do the trick," the man muttered, eyes closing as his hand pressed to the dead skull. A faint psychic current flowed from his fingers into the lifeless brain. Ten minutes later, he withdrew.

"Damn it... still not enough..." He tried the other heads, but each yielded incomplete information. The precise location was close, but not exact—insufficient to report back to his squad.

Then his gaze fell on the uneven earth nearby. Rising, he transformed once more into a werewolf.

"So, there’s still a rat hiding. Come out!" His voice thundered like a bolt from a clear sky. Xia Zheng realized his hurried burial had left traces.

There was no more point in hiding. The enemy had found him and would not rest until he was caught. Xia Zheng took a deep breath, stood up, and walked toward the werewolf from Fallen Wings.

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