HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!

The rusted trash bin flew through the air like paper, crashing into a parked car and setting off its alarm. Smoke and dust danced around the alley as the metallic hand slammed into the pavement with a loud, clanging thud.

Vector growled, rising to his feet with fury burning in his eyes. His face was hidden beneath a dark hood, but his voice echoed like a storm down the empty street.

"Next time, Harry… next time is your last night on Earth."

Suddenly, a sharp ring cut through the silence. Vector glanced at the glowing red symbol on his wristband an encrypted call.

He tapped it.

A low voice came through the feed. "Vector, did you kill the man?"

Vector wiped blood from his lip, his eyes narrowing. "He got away."

The voice belonged to Vexley, CEO of HumanOx Corporation, the same man funding secret bio-enhancement projects in the city's underground.

"He got away?" Vexley's voice hardened. "You had one target. The boy who has the stolen formula. The last injection. That VisionOS. Do you even know who he is?"

Vector exhaled, jaw clenched. "Not yet. But I will. His strength wasn't normal. I've never seen anything like it."

"Then hurry," Vexley snapped. "We can't let the formula evolve any further. This is your final chance."

The line went dead.

Vector tightened his metallic fist, blue sparks flickering where skin met steel. "Enjoy your little victory, Harry. It won't last long."

Meanwhile, across the city, Harry stepped out of a cab with Anna by his side. They had just finished dinner at a quiet downtown café her treat. But even though he smiled and laughed during the evening, his mind wasn't really there.

Not after what happened.

Not after that man with the metallic hand tried to kill him.

He didn't even know the guy's name. Didn't know why he attacked. But he knew one thing the hit was personal. That wasn't some mugging or random street violence. That man came for him.

And Harry could feel it in his bones he would come again.

As the elevator doors closed behind him and Anna said goodnight with a smile, Harry leaned against the cold wall, hands in his pockets, lost in thought. His strength had saved him tonight. But what if it wasn't enough next time?

What if that metallic hand had hit just a little harder?

What if Anna had been with him?

He entered his apartment, lights flickering on automatically. The place was small too small. A one-bedroom unit in a building that smelled like old pizza and broken dreams. Rent was late. Again.

He looked over at the small photo frame on his table. His mom, smiling. That smile had cost him everything his savings, his fight winnings, even the secret street championship title he won a months ago. He used all of it to pay for her operation.

And he'd do it again.

But now he was broke.

Harry collapsed onto the couch, rubbing the back of his neck where the formula had been injected .the moment everything changed. Since then, every time he pushed his limits, he heard that voice calm, cold, mechanical:

[VisionOS: Activated]

And he could feel it his strength growing. His body rebuilding.

Currently, his strength level was 5. Enough to smash through walls. Enough to throw a man across the street. Enough to take on twenty trained fighters in a street ring.

But not enough for the metallic-hand guy. That man was something else.

Stronger. Meaner. Smarter.

Harry stood up, the fire in his chest rising again. He walked over to the window and stared out at the glowing city lights.

There was only one way to get stronger.

Only one place that made sense now.

The Underground Street Fights.

He had left them behind after winning. Promised himself never to go back. The pain, the violence, the risk it wasn't just a game anymore. People died in those cages.

But now? He didn't have a choice.

The formula inside him VisionOS responded to challenge. To danger. It needed real threats to unlock more power. Safe life wasn't going to cut it.

And the money?

He needed that too. His mom's follow-up treatments. A real place to live. A car. A life. And if he ever wanted to be more than just another face in the city crowd, he needed power and cash to back it up.

Harry clenched his fists. The decision was made.

Tomorrow night, he'd go back.

He'd step into the circle again.

He'd fight stronger opponents.

He'd rise through the ranks. Not just for survival now, but to protect the people he loved.

Because he wasn't just some lucky survivor anymore.

He was the only person with VisionOS inside him.

And someone out there some corporation or shadow government or freakshow scientist wanted that power back.

Too bad. It was his now.

And he'd burn down anyone who tried to take it.

The sun had barely crested the skyline when Harry was already up, lacing his shoes and stepping into the cracked pavement behind his apartment complex. The cool morning air stung his lungs, but he welcomed the burn. Pain meant progress. And tonight… tonight wasn't just another fight. It was a statement.

He had registered for the underground street fights before his morning jog, a few taps on his cracked screen simple. The system already knew him. Once a champion, always flagged. He didn't need to prove his identity anymore. His previous victories spoke for him in blood and broken teeth.

Back in his room, he dropped onto the floor, grunting through push-ups. Sets of fifty. Then a hundred. His arms shook but he didn't stop. Sweat pooled beneath him like a shadow spreading. After that, sit-ups, squats, punches against the concrete wall until his knuckles turned raw. The pain was necessary. It reminded him of the stakes of his mother's hospital bills, of Anna's tuition dreams, and the people who would crush them for profit.

By sunset, Harry stood before the mirror. Silent. Focused.

He opened the closet door, its hinges creaking like a warning. There it was—the hoodie. Torn at the sleeve. Blood-stained at the collar. It smelled like victory and rage. He zipped it up slowly, the motion deliberate, almost sacred.

This wasn't the same Harry from weeks ago. That Harry was desperate, confused, and constantly doubting himself. This one? He was ready to destroy anything that stood in his way.

Night fell fast, like a curtain dropped over the city's sins. The street club was hidden beneath an abandoned garage, the door disguised with graffiti and old tires. Harry passed the bouncer with a single nod.

The place stank of smoke, sweat, and spilled liquor. The crowd buzzed like hornets, drunk on bloodlust and bets. Neon lights flickered above as a familiar sight greeted him the ring. But this time, it wasn't the open mat he remembered.

It was a cage.

Steel bars. Bolted corners. No escape. Just flesh and metal.

Harry's boots echoed against the concrete floor as he stepped inside. The cage door slammed shut behind him with a heavy clank, locking him into tonight's test.

The announcer's voice blared from the speakers, gritty and electric, as the crowd erupted.

"AND IN THIS CORNER! You know him! You FEAR him! The RETURNING CHAMP... HARRY THE HAMMER!"

Harry didn't react. His breath was steady, his heartbeat calm. But his eyes his eyes locked on the other side of the cage, waiting.

"And facing him tonight fresh from three consecutive knockouts THE HUMAN BULLDOZER!"

The crowd roared as the opponent emerged.

Six-foot-four. Covered in tattoos from jaw to knuckles. Muscles like stacked bricks. A scar across his nose. He cracked his neck, then his knuckles. Metal-studded gloves gleamed under the lights.

The bell rang.

They clashed like titans. But Harry was faster.

A dodge. A left hook. Two jabs to the ribs. Then a roundhouse kick to the side of the man's head. THUD.

First fight? Over in less than a minute.

The man slumped to the floor, unconscious.

The crowd screamed. Money flew in the air. But Harry didn't celebrate. He backed into his corner and wiped sweat from his brow, waiting.

Second fighter.

Thinner but wiry, snake-fast. He slid into the cage with a smug grin, bouncing on his heels.

Bell rang again.

This one lasted longer two minutes. But Harry's footwork and raw strength dismantled him. A flurry of jabs, a faked knee, then a slam into the cage wall.

Down. Out cold.

Two down.

People started chanting his name now, fists pumping in the air like he was a gladiator from ancient times.

Then came the third.

And everything changed.

This one was silent. Stocky. Wrapped hands. Calm like a killer.

He didn't smile. Didn't speak. Just stared at Harry with ice in his eyes.

From the first punch, Harry knew this one was different.

It felt like getting hit by a truck. Harry staggered back, blood spraying from his lip. A second punch drove into his gut like a sledgehammer. He gasped, nearly falling.

Then—CRACK! A hook to the jaw. He hit the mat.

The crowd went silent.

His ears rang. Blood pooled at the corner of his mouth. Lights above blurred into red and white halos.

But inside, something refused to stay down.

He remembered his mother's smile. The way she had said "I'm proud of you" even when he failed. He remembered Anna's laugh before she left for college. Before he told her they couldn't afford it anymore.

Harry gritted his teeth. He pushed himself up, legs trembling.

The crowd started chanting.

"HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!"

The fighter charged again.

But Harry spun. Dodged. Then landed a punch right into the man's temple BOOM followed by a brutal uppercut under the jaw.

His opponent flew back, crashed into the cage wall, and collapsed.

KO.

The bell rang.

Harry had won all three.

Blood dripping from his nose. Hoodie soaked in sweat. Chest heaving like a furnace. But standing tall.

The crowd lost its mind.

As he exited the cage, adrenaline still coursing through him, the lights dimmed suddenly.

The crowd faded.

And in the smoky corner of the arena, a figure stood watching.

Tall. Black trench coat. Shaved head. A single cybernetic eye gleaming red.

Vector.

He watched Harry like a hawk tracking prey.

He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen.

A voice message sent to someone unseen:

"Target confirmed. VisionOS subject located. Prepare retrieval protocol. Authorization: Vexley."

Vector smiled.

The hunt had truly begun.

And then in front of Harry's eyes, the air shimmered faintly.

A red holographic message flickered to life for only him to see:

[VisionOS: Activated]

[Strength Level: 8]

[Congratulations. You defeated three strong fighters continuously. You have leveled up.]

Harry blinked. Just once.

Then clenched his fists.

Whatever this thing inside him was it was level up.

And so were his enemies.