You Win

"Then try it," Glen said, before leaping down from the second floor.

The man in the trench coat slammed his cup down, casually standing up and cracking his neck with a dismissive sneer. "Ever since I gained this power, I haven't fought seriously. Looks like you're the lucky one who will get to experience it."

In the next moment, his eyes narrowed sharply, and with a powerful stomp, his body shot forward, rushing straight toward Glen!

In that instant, the trench-coated man saw that Glen's dark eyes never left his own, his expression completely unchanged.

Heh... He hasn't reacted yet...

Just as this thought flashed through his mind, a handprint slammed into his face. It felt like crashing into an elastic wall. His forward momentum, starting from his head, was violently pushed back!

Before he could process what was happening, he found himself suspended by his face, held up by Glen with just one hand.

The grip was like iron, unyielding, no matter how he struggled.

With ease, Glen turned around and addressed Mrs. Ryan, who was staring at the scene in utter shock, "Madam, I'd rather not make a mess in your house. I'll take care of him outside."

Without waiting for a response, he dragged the man outside.

The trench-coated man, seemingly humiliated beyond belief, erupted in a swirl of dark purple smoke as his strength surged. The intensity of his power made it clear that Glen could no longer hold him with just one hand. With a swift motion, he hurled the man to the side.

Glen scanned his surroundings. Mrs. Ryan's home was in a quiet, well-kept neighborhood, with many houses nearby. But not a single person was outside; all the windows and doors were tightly shut.

Clearly, the residents had heard the commotion and were already hiding inside.

"I admit, I underestimated you," the man growled, rubbing his face, eyes burning with hatred. "But now... I'll get serious!"

With those words, the smoke around his body thickened, billowing out from his trench coat. His mouth opened, revealing sharp fangs, and his muscles swelled to the point of bursting through his clothes.

"Whoa, a transformation," Glen muttered dryly, clapping his hands. "Couldn't you be a little more creative?"

The man, now much larger and more terrifying, let out a monstrous roar. His clothes were barely holding together, torn in multiple places.

"Do you understand now?!" he bellowed. "This is the supreme power granted to us by the great Lord Grath! A mere mortal like you could never comprehend it!"

"Okay, okay, got it. So, who's this Grath? Pretty impressive, huh?" Glen shrugged, unimpressed.

"Lord Grath is the one who will lead us to supreme power!" the man howled, his voice echoing in the air. "How dare you speak of him like that! You are dead!"

The man's fury ignited, and with a thunderous roar, he lunged at Glen, his fist crashing toward him like a massive boulder.

But Glen remained calm. He lowered his body slightly, avoiding the blow, then shifted his weight, twisting his hips and delivering a precise sidekick.

The sound of wind breaking filled the air as the kick landed, and the man was sent flying backward. He spat out a mouthful of bile, crashing to the ground.

"You're so predictable. You're not much better than the street thugs," Glen remarked casually, stepping back.

"Oh my God!" Mrs. Ryan's shocked voice echoed from behind.

Turning to her, Glen grinned. "Told you, Madam. I'm pretty good at this."

Mrs. Ryan looked from the winded man on the ground to Glen and shook her head. "No... this isn't just being 'good at fighting,' child. Don't try to fool me."

Glen scratched his head awkwardly.

The man, still clutching his stomach in pain, struggled to rise. Glaring at Glen with disbelief, he panted, "How did you do that? With your pathetic strength, how could you...?!"

Glen didn't bother answering. Instead, he turned to Mrs. Ryan. "Madam, things might get a bit bloody soon. You should probably step inside. Don't forget, you're pregnant."

Mrs. Ryan hesitated, wanting to say something, but the last part of Glen's statement made her pause. Though she didn't know exactly what harm bloodshed might do to a pregnant woman, she didn't want to take any risks and decided to retreat into the house. She motioned for Glen to be careful.

The man in the trench coat glared at Glen, his face twisted with fury. "Listen here, kid. I suggest you mind your own business and walk away. If you don't, I won't keep this from my boss. You don't want to be targeted by him!"

Glen only sneered. "What's this? Weren't you just talking about tearing out my heart earlier? Now you're begging? Save it. You won't escape."

"Is that so?" the man sneered, stepping backward. He backed into the house, his hand grabbing a thin, hunched man by the neck and yanking him out.

He gave a cold laugh, the menace clear in his voice. "If you don't want this innocent man to die, I suggest you let me go."

The thin man, terrified, looked at Glen with pleading eyes. "Please... help me..."

Glen's expression hardened, and after a brief pause, he shrugged. "Fine, you win. You can leave now."

The trench-coated man blinked in surprise, caught off guard by Glen's sudden submission.

"Smart choice," he said, smirking, his grip tightening on the man he held hostage.

He thought to himself, Once I'm free, I'll just kill this poor fool. This kid is so naïve... he thinks I'll actually let him go.

But just as he began to turn and retreat, Glen's voice, cold and menacing, rang out just behind his head, "I was lying."

The man's spine froze. An icy dread washed over him.

Before he could react, a flash of silver sliced through the air. With a sickening sound, both of the man's hands were severed, blood spraying in all directions.

The thin man fell to the ground, stumbling in fear, his pants soaked in terror.

The trench-coated man screamed, clutching his bleeding wrists, his howls echoing through the air.

"Still thinking about running?" Glen asked, crouching beside the man, who was now writhing in agony. "I was going to follow you to your lair, but I changed my mind. It's easier to just interrogate you. Tell me, where's your base? How many of you are there? Your boss, Grath, what's his deal? What happened to the kids you kidnapped?"

The man, still in excruciating pain, glared at Glen with hatred, forcing the words out through gritted teeth, "I won't betray Lord Grath! You won't learn anything from me!"

"You will," Glen said confidently, his tone calm but filled with absolute certainty. "Trust me, your willpower isn't as strong as you think."