Chapter Six

The club sounded as if it had just endured a chaotic fireworks display. The glass crashed and broke loudly, and it was hard to tell if it was bottles, windows, or screens that went down.

Everyone was screaming, trembling, and running. Their actions and expressions were like they were auditioning for a part in a disaster or a horror movie.

The mood in the club changed suddenly. Panic took over the fun atmosphere as if someone had switched it from "party" to "run for your life."

"AAAAAH!"

Everyone was running for their lives and pushing toward the exits. The tables were knocked over. Drinks flew everywhere.

Elion's heart raced as he tightened his grip around his glass of orange juice—as if he was trying to save it from flying, too.

Jordan sat up straight; he had completely forgotten about his cola. Elion noticed that Jordan's eyes were wide with curiosity, not fear, as he looked around.

"What's going on?" Jordan shouted to be heard above the loud noise by whoever could hear it.

Elion was unsure how to respond because he sensed that something was wrong.

Seriously wrong.

Then, they spotted Raymond.

For the first time, Raymond—the guy who usually jumped into fights without thinking—was completely still. He felt tense like a locked vault, with his fists clenched at his sides. He just stood there without moving. Even worse, it seemed like he wasn't breathing at all.

Raymond felt as helpless as a warrior who just realized he had forgotten his sword at home.

Elion exchanged a glance with Jordan, and they both knew that whatever was coming was big.

"W-wh-what… is that?" Raymond muttered in a tremble.

That was enough to set off every alarm in Elion's head. If Raymond wasn't jumping in to break skulls, then this wasn't just some bar fight gone too far. This was something worse.

Slowly, Elion and Jordan turned to follow Raymond's gaze, expecting—hoping—to see something that made sense.

Maybe a gang fight, maybe some drunk guy waving a weapon around. Anything logical.

But what they saw instead sent every nerve in Elion's body into overdrive. They saw it. Just a few feet away from Raymond. Too near.

It stood in the center of the chaos, surrounded by overturned tables and still bodies. A large figure loomed over the panicked crowd, making the scene feel almost unreal.

What they saw should've been impossible. It should've been something straight out of a nightmare.

A bear.

No—something worse.

A bear-man.

It had a large, heavy body covered in thick, tangled fur. Its arms were strong and long, ending in clawed paws that dripped with fresh blood.

But the worst part? The part that made Elion's skin crawl?

The face.

It wasn't a bear's face. It wasn't even animalistic.

It was human.

A man's face—twisted into a sick, delighted smile. His eyes held no fear, no hesitation. He wasn't rampaging. He wasn't lashing out wildly.

He was enjoying himself.

The realization hit like a freight train.

The bodies on the ground? They weren't unconscious.

They were dead.

Elion struggled to breathe as his heart raced in his chest. His mind told him to run, but his legs would not move.

Every survival instinct he had—told him he shouldn't be seeing this. That this was impossible.

Seeing how brutally murdered the victims were, Elion could not help but almost vomit on the spot. Well, a few other people had already beaten him to that.

Beside him, Jordan spoke quietly, clearly shocked. "What... is that?"

The bear-man moved his head slightly. Then, as if things weren't already terrible enough, his smile grew wider.

His eyes? Fixated on Raymond.

And just like that—

It moved.

Before anyone could react, the bear-man lunged.

It—or he—wasn't insanely fast, but the way he moved was pure terror. No hesitation. No wasted motion. Just raw, overwhelming force, and… his face was smiling creepily.

And that was what made Raymond freeze.

His usual confidence, his instinct to fight, completely shut down. He just stood there, wide-eyed, as the bear-man swung its massive paw straight at him.

"Move! You idiot!" Jordan moved first while his mouth cursing.

Without thinking or a proper plan, he shot forward, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. He didn't have time to stop the attack entirely, but he managed to intercept the swing just enough to knock it off course.

Jordan's tackled the creature's body, redirecting the angle of its attack by a few inches. He felt pain right after. The bear-man was too tough.

Still, it wasn't enough to ensure Raymond's safety.

Even with Jordan's interference, the sheer momentum behind the attack was monstrous. The clawed paw still crashed into Raymond's shoulder with a sickening thud.

Luckily, the claw missed, but not the paw.

Raymond's body jerked violently from the impact, his feet leaving the ground for half a second before he was sent skidding backward, crashing into a table.

Elion's breath caught.

A sudden realization hit him. That was a partial hit.

What would've happened if Jordan hadn't deflected it?

"Raymond!" A few of his red-team teammates shouted. They quickly ran to him. Jordan, too. As of now, it seemed everyone from the red team was safe.

"You okay?" Asked one of them.

Raymond wanted to curse as he grunted in pain. How is this considered okay?

His body half-slumped against the broken table. His face twisted in agony as he clutched his shoulder, his fingers barely brushing against the damage.

A few people helped him to get up. It was a suicide to stay here. They could be the next victims, anytime.

Jordan crouched beside him, his usual laid-back expression replaced with one of genuine concern.

"Anything broken?" Jordan asked, though his tone already suggested he knew the answer.

Raymond let out a bitter chuckle that turned into a pained hiss. "Broken? I can feel my shoulder bone shattered to pieces."

Jordan's eyes widened slightly.

Elion had already caught up to them, and he heard that. Shattered?

He felt his stomach drop. He had moved closer without realizing it, but now that he was standing right there, the situation felt real. Too real.

A single hit. That was all it took to turn Raymond—one of the toughest guys they knew—into this.

Elion's hands fumbled for his phone. He pulled it out and immediately dialed the police.

His fingers felt awkward, but he managed to press the call button and turn on the speaker.

Luckily, the bear-man was too busy dealing with the others.

As soon as the dispatcher answered, Elion spoke fast.

"There's been an attack—uh, a violent attack at Xylo Club," Elion said, trying to keep his voice steady. "We need officers now. People are dead, and—" He glanced at the bear-man, who was still looming over the club like something out of a horror movie. "—there's a suspect. He's still here. Very dangerous."

"We have units nearby," the dispatcher responded. "They'll be there in minutes."

Elion exhaled, lowering the phone. "Police are on their way," he told Jordan and Raymond. "In a few minutes."

Jordan scoffed. "Yeah? And how many people are gonna die in a few minutes if we don't do something?"

Elion swallowed hard.

Jordan wasn't wrong.

Screams still filled the club. People were trapped and trying to escape, but the bear-man was not in a hurry. He moved carefully, like a predator that knew its prey could not get away. The sick smile on his human face didn't waver like he was enjoying the terror.

Jordan clenched his fists, standing up. "I'm stopping him."

But before Jordan could take a single step, Raymond grabbed his arm with his good hand and pulled him back.

"Don't be a fool, Jordan," Raymond snapped. His voice was rough as he was bearing the pain. "I'm sturdier than you, and look what happened."

Jordan went still. He clenched his jaw and tightened his body as if he was trying to hold himself back.

Elion's mind raced. They couldn't just sit here. But if even Raymond—got destroyed in one hit, then what were they supposed to do?

His eyes darted around the club. There were still so many people left. Some were injured. Some were too scared to move. They were trapped.

Elion took a deep breath. They needed a plan. And they needed it fast.

Raymond was still on the ground, groaning in pain, while Jordan crouched beside him, checking his injury. The others from the red team? He did not see anyone that could go against the bear-man.

People were screaming in the club and trying to escape. The chaos continued as they searched for any exit they could find. But the bear-man—the thing—wasn't chasing after them.

That was what made Elion pause.

Despite Jordan landing a hit earlier, the monster hadn't focused on him at all. Instead, it swung wildly at those nearby, like a predator striking at whatever was closest. Its movements were terrifyingly strong but not smart.

Elion's mind worked fast, analyzing everything. The beast wasn't moving like a trained fighter. It wasn't hunting—it was reacting.

That meant…

"His vision's limited," Elion muttered over the noise.

Jordan and Raymond snapped their heads toward him. They looked back at the creature, watching its erratic movements, and suddenly, it clicked.

It wasn't tracking Jordan when he dodged. It wasn't picking specific targets. It was attacking whatever was closest.

Jordan narrowed his eyes. "You might be right."

Raymond groaned, still clutching his shoulder. "Doesn't change the fact that things can rip people apart like paper."

True. The sheer power behind its swings was no joke. It had already split tables open with its bare hands—or paws, or whatever the hell those were. If it did land a clean hit, the fight was over.

Elion clenched his fists. His logical brain screamed at him to run. There was no reason to stay. This wasn't his fight.

But then, his gut told him something else. After what this thing had done—after seeing the bodies—how could he just leave?

And if he was being honest with himself… after his conversation with Jordan earlier, after realizing how dull his life had been—he was thrilled for danger like this.

'What the hell is wrong with me?' Elion was confused.

Still, he wasn't reckless.

They needed to buy time. But for what? Elion wasn't sure. Maybe for the police to arrive. Maybe for the monster to run out of energy. He didn't know why, but something inside him told him that was the key.

"We need to stall him," Elion said, determination setting in.

Jordan looked at him, then at the creature, and smiled. "I was hoping you would say that."

Before Elion could stop him, Jordan moved—closing the distance fast.

"Wait—Jordan!" Elion yelled.

But Jordan wasn't listening. He was already too close.

Elion knew exactly what was going through his best friend's mind. If Jordan wanted to make a name for himself in the world of Tarung, then this was the kind of fight he needed to take on.

But this wasn't a normal fight. Elion couldn't just stand there. He needed to do something—fast.

He looked around the wrecked club, searching for anything useful. Then he saw it—the overturned fridge with a broken glass door and cans rolling across the floor.

A slow smirk formed on his lips. "Take Raymond and anyone you can save out of here," Elion ordered. The red team nodded and moved hurriedly.

Meanwhile, Jordan was baiting the bear-man, dodging its massive swings with terrifying precision. He ducked, rolled, and sidestepped, but Elion could see it—Jordan was barely keeping up. It was only a matter of time before he got hit.

'Not if I do something first.' Elion took a deep breath and launched his first kick.

The can soar through the air like a missile, slamming hard into the creature's paw just as it was about to strike Jordan.

The beast recoiled slightly, more surprised than hurt.

Elion didn't stop. Another can. Another kick. This one smacked into the beast's knee. Then another. Right in the ribs.

The monster staggered, now turning around to find Elion instead of Jordan.

Elion's smirk widened. 'That's right. Find me, dumbass.'

Jordan noticed what he was doing and grinned. "Damn, dude! You're insane!"

But Elion wasn't done yet. He took a step back, lined up his next shot, and sent the final can straight into the monster's face.

CRACK!

The sound was sickening. A normal human couldn't take a blow like that without crumbling. Even with its monstrous strength, the creature stumbled, holding its face.

Then Elion saw it. Something was changing. The beast was getting slower. Its massive arms twitched. Its muscles trembled. The fur was receding. Its body was shrinking.

"What the hell is happening?" Jordan muttered in disbelief.

The monster was gradually becoming human again.

People who had been hiding looked out from their hiding spots, their eyes wide with fear. But then, another reality hit—bodies were everywhere.

Some of the survivors looked around at the carnage, and the moment the weight of it all sank in, several of them vomited or fainted on the spot.

Elion exhaled, his heart still hammering. But it wasn't over yet.

The man—now more human than a beast—staggered, his breath ragged. His body shook as if it couldn't handle the transformation.

Then, in one last burst of desperation, he ran.

Elion's instincts flared. "Let him go?" he asked Jordan.

"Oh, hell no," Jordan muttered.

Without hesitation, both of them bolted after him.

They weren't letting him get away, not after everything that he had done.