I was still catching my breath.
The warehouse was a mess—concrete chunks scattered everywhere, metal and rust littering the ground.
Before I could think much further, a faint crack echoed from the far end of the warehouse. The air shifted, a presence thick with something dangerous. I tensed.
Then I saw it—a figure stepping out from the shadows, all dramatic and slow like it was trying to make an entrance on a reality show.
A devil. A stray one. Oh fuck.
Red eyes glinted under the edge of a dark hood, wings spreading behind it like some edgy cosplay of Dracula. Bat-like, leathery, and definitely not helping its case in the intimidation department.
"Well, well," the devil drawled, flashing a grin that showed off its sharp fangs. "Another human? How quaint. A little lost puppy."
I clenched my fists.
This one was the real deal.
The devil took a slow step forward, its wings twitching slightly as it sized me up. Its red eyes flicked over my figure with what I could only describe as mild amusement. "I didn't expect a human to wander into my territory tonight. Looks like I'll have a good dinner tonight"
Cool. Cannibalism.
Definitely not a red flag.
Its grin widened, clearly expecting me to start trembling or begging. "Oh, I'll make this quick, little human. Maybe I'll even let you scream first, just for fun."
Okay, first of all, I don't scream—I make emotionally distressed groans like a respectable adult.
Second? No way in hell I was giving this furry Dracula wannabe the satisfaction.
I didn't answer. Just kept my stance, fists clenched, eyes locked on it. His words didn't matter. They barely even registered. The only thing I could feel was the power gathering inside me—swirling, burning, thrumming—ready to be unleashed.
He still thought I was just some guy who'd wandered in and got lucky knocking over a barrel.
What he didn't know?
I'm not just some guy.
Not anymore.
Then he lunged.
Wings snapped open, wind rushing past me like a punch to the face. He came in fast—unnaturally fast—with claws stretched out toward my throat like he was trying to rip out my soul or give me an aggressive chiropractic adjustment.
But I was already moving.
I sidestepped, clean and smooth, feeling the energy in my legs explode like a starting gun had gone off inside me. I didn't even have time to think—it was instinct, reaction. My body blurred past his attack like I'd been doing this forever.
He missed.
Hard.
The devil stumbled to a stop, his eyes wide with confusion.
Like his brain just blue screened.
"You…" he muttered, blinking like I'd just teleported. "How did you move so fast?"
Honestly?
Good question.
I was faster, stronger than I'd realized.
I didn't answer.
But if this guy thought I was going to roll over and die, he was about to have a very long, very bad night.
The devil didn't wait for an answer.
With a snarl that sounded somewhere between a growl and a laugh, he charged again, claws flashing as he lunged. I ducked under the first swipe, twisted around the second, and threw my fist straight into his ribs.
It landed.
Hard.
There was a sickening crunch, and he staggered back with a surprised grunt, eyes snapping wide as he clutched his side.
Yeah. I hit like a truck now.
"You little—!" he hissed, then vanished in a blink, reappearing above me mid-air. His wings flared, claws poised to come down like a guillotine.
I dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike. His claws tore into the ground where I'd been, sending up a spray of shattered concrete.
He was fast. Strong. Trained.
But I was faster.
The devil didn't wait.
With a guttural growl, it lunged—fast, claws glinting in the dim light. But I moved faster.
My body reacted before my brain caught up. I ducked, pivoted, and drove my elbow into its ribs. Something cracked. The devil skidded back, snarling in pain and surprise.
Okay. That was new.
Mana thrummed in my limbs like live wires. Every breath drew in more of it, like my body had been starved for this. I could feel it building, begging to be unleashed.
"Little worm!" the devil roared, wings flaring as it charged again, claws slashing wildly.
I raised my arm, and mana surged into it on instinct—Mana Burst. My forearm shimmered faintly as the claws glanced off, sparks flying. No pain. No blood. Just raw, concentrated energy reinforcing my body.
The devil blinked, confused. Hesitated.
I didn't.
I launched forward, my mana bursting into my legs. The warehouse floor cracked beneath me as I shot ahead, closing the distance in an instant. My fist connected with its chin, snapping its head back and sending it airborne.
He crashed to the ground, coughing, snarling, furious.
"Who are you?!" he spat, wings twitching erratically.
I didn't answer. I didn't need to.
Mana swirled in my core, hotter, denser. I let it pour into my limbs, enhancing every movement. Mana Burst again—my muscles tightened, breath sharpened, vision narrowed.
He lunged.
I met him mid-charge.
He slashed—I dodged, grabbed his arm, and flung him across the warehouse. He crashed through a stack of rusted barrels with a metallic roar. Before he could recover, I was already there.
My foot slammed into his chest, pinning him down. He tried to claw me—I caught his hand and drove a mana-charged punch into his gut. The ground beneath him cracked on impact.
"Still hungry?" I muttered.
He writhed, coughed up something dark, and collapsed again, trembling.
I stood over him, every breath steam-hot, mana still pulsing through me like a storm
The devil coughed, trying to crawl away, one wing dragging limply behind him.
"Wait… wait—"
His voice broke into a wheeze, but I didn't move. I just stared.
He would've killed me. No hesitation. No second thoughts. That wasn't a guess—it was a guarantee. One misstep, one moment of hesitation, and I'd be the one bleeding out on the floor.
I clenched my fist. Mana surged through it, that familiar heat roaring to life again. Mana Burst, one more time.
He looked up just in time to see it coming.
"No—!"
My punch landed square in his chest, mana detonating point-blank. There was a sickening crunch, then silence as the shockwave rippled through the air. The floor cracked beneath him. His body went still.
No flailing. No dramatic death cry. Just a final, twitching jolt before everything stopped.
I stood there for a moment, breathing hard. Not shaking. Not panicking.
Just… there.
My heartbeat slowed. The buzz of adrenaline faded, leaving only the faint hum of mana in my veins and the weight of what I'd done. I looked down at the devil's corpse. Mangled. Smoking. Unmoving.
That was my first kill.
The thought drifted across my mind like it belonged to someone else. Detached. Quiet.
But I didn't feel sick. Or scared. Or even guilty.
Because if I hadn't done it, I wouldn't be standing here.
And deep down, I already knew this wasn't going to be the last.
I flexed my fingers, letting the lingering mana fade from my skin. The warehouse was silent now, save for the occasional drip of water from the broken pipes above.
I exhaled.
With a final glance at the body, I turned and left the warehouse.