No matter how deadly Zero's bullets were, they were completely useless against Erik. So Alex wasn't worried about him.
Instead, his eyes drifted to Sabretooth, whose head was rapidly regenerating, and he fell into thought.
With that freakish healing factor, taking down Sabretooth with just his fists was going to be a tall order.
Was he supposed to beat the guy into ground meat?
That would be a little too brutal.
As he pondered, Alex scanned the area. His gaze landed on the two steak knives Erik had used to skewer Sabretooth earlier—now lying casually discarded on the ground.
Without hesitation, Alex strolled over and picked one up, weighing it in his hand.
Sure, Sabretooth could heal fast, but if he chopped off the guy's head in one clean swipe, there was no way he'd survive that, right?
It's not like Sabretooth was Deadpool—he couldn't regrow a whole head.
The only issue was... would this knife be sharp enough?
Could it at least slice through garlic without breaking?
But reality didn't give him time to keep testing theories. Sabretooth was already back on his feet, fully recovered!
The wild beast within him had completely taken over now. Blood covered his face, but that vicious grin still stretched wide—he looked like a demon straight out of hell.
He lunged at Alex once more.
Alex effortlessly dodged with speed far beyond that of a normal human, pivoted to Sabretooth's side, gripped the knife tight, and slashed with all his might.
Clang!
A cold flash of steel.
Shlick!
Sabretooth's head flew clean off, a geyser of blood erupting from his neck. It was downright spectacular.
Momentum carried his headless body forward another two steps before it collapsed hard onto the ground.
The severed head arced through the air in a graceful curve, sailing dozens of meters before finally landing on the grass like a kicked soccer ball.
"You… You killed Victor!"
Bradley stared at Sabretooth's corpse in stunned disbelief, his mind struggling to catch up.
A savage beast like Victor had just been killed—by this young man?
He couldn't believe it. This kid even looked kind of scholarly... and yet he was this dangerous?
"If he can't grow a new head, then yeah—I'd say he's dead," Alex said with a shrug.
"Urgh!"
A grunt came from the other side of the field—Erik had finished his own fight.
Zero, riddled with the bullets he had fired himself, collapsed to the ground with wide, unwilling eyes.
Off he went, to reunite with his dear comrade Victor. Because good brothers go out together, after all.
> [Mission Complete. Congratulations, Host—100 Origin Points acquired!]
[Origin Points: The fundamental energy source for Host's advancement, upgrades, and growth. Begin your path of evolution now!]
At the same moment, a string of system notifications popped up in Alex's mind.
Put simply, Origin Points were the key to Alex's progress and evolution.
He could use them to unlock more of the Homelander template, boost a specific stat, or even directly upgrade his existing abilities.
In short—his growth was tied to Origin Points.
"Alex, I've got to say—I didn't take you for the violent type."
Erik walked up beside him, glancing down at Sabretooth's headless corpse, and shrugged.
"There was a lot of blood, sure," Alex said earnestly, "but I'm pretty sure he died peacefully. No pain at all."
And that wasn't even a joke. With the speed of that slash, he could've sliced through flesh with a piece of paper.
Sabretooth's head had come off in an instant.
He probably didn't even realize what had happened before his brain went flying.
Honestly, with how tough he was, he might've even gotten a brief taste of what it felt like to fly.
"You alright?"
This time, Erik looked Alex straight in the eyes—no jokes, no banter.
He had teased him earlier to lighten the mood. After all, killing someone—even in self-defense—could leave lasting psychological trauma, especially for someone so young.
"I'm fine," Alex replied with a shake of his head.
Even though it was his first kill across both lives, he was surprised to find he wasn't shaken.
Not in the slightest.
"If you ever want to talk, I'm here."
Erik gave his shoulder a reassuring pat before turning his attention to Bradley. "Who were those two?"
"Guys… I think you just pissed off the wrong people." Bradley's face had turned grim.
"Oh?" Erik narrowed his eyes. "What kind of people?"
"That guy with the claws—his name's Victor. The other one, we just called him Zero. As for where they're from…"
Bradley hesitated, carefully choosing what he could say.
"They're part of a secret organization. Hidden. Dangerous."
"What kind of organization?" Erik's gaze sharpened like a blade, his tone heavy.
Bradley tensed under the pressure. This guy suddenly felt terrifying.
"I said—what kind of organization?" Erik grabbed Bradley by the collar, voice rising. "Was it Shaw?"
From what Erik knew, the only mutant organization with real power was Sebastian Shaw's Hellfire Club.
"Shaw? No, man—who the hell is Shaw?"
"Don't play dumb! Was it Shaw?!"
"Man! I don't even know who that is! Let go of me!"
"You're lying!"
"Erik! Calm down!" Alex quickly stepped in. "I don't think he's lying."
And he didn't just think it—he knew.
The organization Bradley referred to was Stryker's little mutant operation, not Shaw's.
"He better not be," Erik muttered, letting go of Bradley's collar with a glare.
"If I were you," Bradley said as he smoothed out his clothes, "I'd get the hell out of here. Fast."
He might've been pissed, but he still gave them an honest warning.
He'd heard the rumors—Victor had been hunting down "rogue" mutants for years.
In a way, these two strangers had just saved his life.
"You're coming with us," Erik said, grabbing Bradley by the arm and dragging him toward the car.
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