"Why do you want Matu?!" Danilo shouted, hoping for at least some level of communication with the man in white.
"Hah… I don't have time for this," the man replied flatly.
In the very next instant, the figure appeared directly in front of Danilo and knocked him out cold.
"What??" Danilo thought to himself, stunned. "He was at least fifty meters away from me—and standing still. How did he appear right in front of me in so little time?!"
At that moment, Matu regained consciousness, hearing the screams of Martina, Tanas, and Danilo echoing around him.
Looking around, he saw a woman lying on the ground, surrounded by blood—most of her blood was already outside her body. Matu understood immediately: a certain death.
It's pointless to try to save her, he told himself. There are plenty more wretches in this world. The death of one changes nothing for me.
His gaze shifted toward Tanas, who was still screaming in agony.
"A gunshot wound?" Matu wondered. "What the hell happened here?" he muttered aloud, coughing.
"Good morning, princess," a voice said casually. The man in white was now sitting right behind him.
Matu's eyes sharpened, his whole body tense. With what little strength he had left, he clenched his abs, twisted his body off the ground, and used the momentum to spring himself upright.
The man in white watched with intrigued eyes.
Matu stood, though his body was far from recovered—riddled with internal injuries and wounds.
The man in white looked at him with something resembling pity.
According to his report, he had come to apprehend a mid-class threat. But this so-called threat had been defeated by a mere child and a grown man who was stunned only by his speed. Clearly, Matu was no more than a low-class disappointment—far beneath expectations.
Matu focused on his opponent. His vision blurred, his body fatigued, and yet he refused to let doubt consume him. To not try was the same as surrendering to death.
The man in white holstered his pistol, giving Matu a faint, almost mocking smile.
Matu's temper flared. This stranger—this man he had never seen before—was clearly toying with him. His ego would not allow such humiliation.
"You're dead," Matu growled. In less than five milliseconds, he appeared in the air at the man's right side, fist cocked, ready to crush his skull with a single blow.
But the man in white never lost his smile. In a single instant, he appeared behind Matu, seized him by the leg, snapped his joint, and slammed him into the ground.
Matu had no option left but to lie there, defeated and broken.
The man in white approached slowly.
"A-ahh… who… who are you?" Matu stammered.
The man in white felt no need to reveal his identity to someone like Matu. Perhaps he was bored, perhaps he made a mistake, or perhaps he simply trusted that something interesting would happen in the future.
Whatever the reason, he decided to answer.
"You may call me Darian."