Kuon glared at the officer with raw, unadulterated hatred.
Yet beneath the rage, a dangerous glint flickered in his eyes.
He had to escape.
His pursuer was a Superhuman, an Ability User with speed that defied natural law.
Kuon’s ribs were cracked, every breath tasted like copper, and his legs were trembling on the edge of failure.
So what?
That wasn’t going to stop him from returning home to Stephanie.
She was the only person left in this godforsaken world he cared about, his only family.
Dying here wasn’t an option—not until that book was in her hands.
Even after taking a hit that felt like getting rammed by an armored transport, his grip on the package beneath his coat hadn’t loosened for a single second.
‘Think!
Think!
How does a baseline human escape a Superhuman without getting slaughtered?’ The officer’s speed was terrifying, but it was inconsistent.
When he pursued Kuon through the tight alleyways, he was fast, but still within human limits.
Yet back on the rooftop, he had closed a fifty-yard gap in the blink of an eye.
The officer abruptly stopped laughing.
The mockery vanished, replaced by a cold, commanding stare.
He gestured toward the object under Kuon’s coat.
“Because I am a merciful man, I’m going to give you one chance.
Surrender to the force and hand over what you stole.” “This was…
bought,” Kuon wheezed, spitting a glob of blood onto the floor.
“Not stolen.
But retards like you don’t seem to possess eyes or ears…
or a brain.” The officer’s eyes narrowed into slits.
“Surrender and hand over the item.
Now.” Silence descended over the ruined corridor.
Neither moved.
The tension stretched taut, heavy enough to choke on.
As Kuon shifted his stance, the tight leather sheath strapped to his forearm pressed hard against his bruised skin.
‘Wait…
the blade.’ The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.
The sheer terror of facing an Ability User had driven the concealed weapon completely out of his mind.
‘Am I actually an idiot?
No…
wait.
How is a simple steel blade supposed to take down a Superhuman?’ Kuon broke the silence first.
He let out a long, ragged sigh, wincing as the movement pulled at his damaged chest.
“Fine…” Kuon slipped the book from his coat and slid it across the rough concrete toward the officer.
The officer’s expression went blank for a split second before a triumphant smirk stretched across his lips.
“Good choice, filthy Ruined.” Sparing Kuon one last contemptuous glance, the officer took two steps forward and bent down to scoop up the prize.
Right at that moment, Kuon doubled over, wincing violently as a fresh wave of crimson spilled past his lips, splashing across the pavement.
The officer chuckled, closing his eyes for a brief, satisfied moment as his fingers brushed the book’s cover.
WHIP- A knife cut through the air, whistling straight for his throat.
Caught completely off guard, the Superhuman violently jerked his head back.
The blade grazed his cheek, severing several strands of hair before embedding itself deep into the concrete wall behind him.
THUD- The officer spun around, his face twisting into quiet fury.
“You little—” Rage flared in his chest as his eyes darted toward the pillar.
The sewer rat was gone.
SCRAPE- The sound of loose gravel scraping against stone echoed from behind him.
The officer instinctively whipped around—only to take a massive handful of pulverized concrete dust directly to the face.
“Aaargh!
F*ck!” The officer yelped, stumbling backward as he frantically rubbed his eyelids, screaming curses through the cloud of grit.
“Now who’s cursing a lot, huh?” Kuon grinned.
The bloody, vicious expression lit up his face as he stared at the blinded officer, suppressing a dark urge to laugh right in his face.
Furiously twisting toward the sound of Kuon’s voice, the officer forced one bloodshot eye open.
“You f*cking R—” Kuon was already there.
Before the officer could react, Kuon drove his secondary utility blade straight into the man’s exposed eye socket with ruthless, calculated precision.
STAB- An animalistic shriek echoed through the hollow hallway.
The officer reeled back, clutching his face in agony.
Instinctively, he yanked the blade from his eye socket—a fatal mistake that sent a fresh torrent of blood spurting down his uniform.
The arrogant, high-class officer was gone.
In his place was a screaming wreck, tumbling to his knees as he tried desperately to staunch the wound.
Kuon held back a cold laugh, watching the bastard writhe on the floor.
‘I was right.’ Kuon had cracked the mechanic.
It wasn’t standard kinetic enhancement or raw physical acceleration.
The officer’s Ability was a stack-based line-of-sight acceleration.
The longer he held a target in his direct field of vision, the exponentially faster his movement speed scaled.
That was why his speed had varied so wildly.
In the alleys, line of sight kept breaking.
In the open corridor, he had locked onto Kuon, allowing his velocity to ramp up to monstrous levels.
And more importantly, Kuon had caught the fatal flaw: closing his eyes for more than a split second reset the stack entirely.
Blind the target lock, and the Superhuman drops right back down to mortal levels.
The officer ripped a strip of cloth from his tactical vest, binding it tightly around his head with trembling hands.
The white fabric instantly turned dark crimson.
Breathing heavily, he glared up through his one remaining eye, his voice trembling with pained fury.
“How…
how in the hell did you figure it out?
And how are you even standing?!
Your ribs should be crushed to paste!” Kuon stared down at the bleeding officer.
Fresh blood trickled over his lips, staining his chin bright red.
Then, Kuon grinned.
It wasn’t a normal smile.
It was a wide, violent, unsettling mask of blood and bared teeth.
He leaned down, scooped the book off the pavement, and tucked it back into his oversized coat.
Slowly pulling the coat back, Kuon unzipped the front layer, revealing a battered, shock-absorbent military vest strapped beneath his shirt.
Kuon let out a low, menacing chuckle.
“Oh, It was nothing, really.
Just a glorious act.”