The boss barely reacted. He looked bored—genuinely bored—as if this entire scene were an inconvenience wedged between meetings. "Big words, kid. I've seen plenty like you. They all believed that, too." He lifted his wrist, checking the time on his watch, lips flattening. "End it. I have another appointment."
That was all it took.
They moved as one.
The woman flicked her stick up, needles spreading wide to control space. The swordsman shifted to my flank, blade low and ready. The four-limbed man surged straight at me, all brute force and momentum, his regeneration already knitting torn muscle together.
I didn't chase. I didn't leap.
I stayed still.
Every movement I made was small—barely enough to matter. A half-step back. A slight turn of my shoulders. My tail coiled close instead of whipping wildly. The needles screamed past my face, close enough that I felt the heat of their friction, but I deflected only what I had to. One claw. One flick of my tail. Nothing wasted.
Then the swordsman struck.
Steel met my shoulder.
The armor didn't stop it.
The blade bit through the fabric like it wasn't there, slicing into muscle. White-hot pain detonated down my arm. The wound was deep but not enough to immobilize my arm completely. I grunted, barely catching myself before my knee hit the ground. Warm blood soaked through the black cloth, dripping onto the pavement.
So much for "highly resistive."
I twisted away before he could follow through, teeth clenched, breath ragged. The boss watched with mild interest, like someone observing a clockwork toy missing a cog.
The four-limbed man was already on me.
I let him come.
As his fists crashed down, I stepped inside his reach, ignoring the screaming pain in my shoulder. My claws sank into his upper arms. He laughed—actually laughed—until I wrenched hard and felt bone give way.
The sound was wet. Final.
I tore both arms free and flung them aside. Blood sprayed across my chest and face. His laughter cut off into a raw, panicked scream as he staggered backward, regeneration struggling to keep up.
The woman reacted instantly. Her stick snapped sideways. Needles converged, humming with lethal precision.
I surged forward instead.
I slammed into the four-limbed man again, ripping lower, tearing through half-formed limbs before they could stabilize. He collapsed in a heap, limbless and shrieking.
Then the sky screamed.
Heat washed over me. Pressure crushed my chest. Something massive tore through the air and slammed into the roadside a few meters away from us like a falling star. Asphalt vaporized. Trees burned. The shockwave threw me backward, my injured shoulder screaming as I skidded across the street.
Dust swallowed everything.
The fight stopped.
Even the boss leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing—not with concern, but curiosity.
Whatever had just arrived… it wasn't part of their plan.
Heat rolled over me in suffocating waves. It wasn't just temperature—it was pressure, like the air itself was being forced to kneel.
The dust curtain thinned, peeling back in slow, miserable seconds, and a figure emerged from behind it.
A man walked forward as if gravity had decided to respect him more than the rest of us.
His body was wrapped in yellow-orange fire, flames licking and folding over one another like living silk. Where hair should have been, white fire burned upward, steady and calm. His clothes were gone, replaced by armor shaped from flame itself—layered, deliberate, regal. Each step he took melted the concrete beneath his feet, the road bubbling and sagging into glowing veins of lava.
I could only see him in profile, but I didn't need to see his eyes to know they were white.
My throat went dry.
"Infernoman," I muttered.
The one from the video. The walking blaze.
In front, someone screamed.
The four-limbed man hadn't gotten far enough. His body was charred black, skin cracked open like burned paper. His clothes were gone, his regeneration fighting desperately, knitting flesh only for it to scorch again. He crawled across the ground, leaving streaks of blood and ash.
"Saya… Boss… help me!" he begged, voice breaking.
Saya—the woman with the needles—stood frozen. Her stick trembled in her grip, needles half-lifted, forgotten. Fear hollowed her face, eyes wide and glassy.
The boss didn't move.
He just watched.
Infernoman walked toward the crawling man without urgency. Each step intensified the heat. I felt my armor grow uncomfortably warm, sweat pouring down my spine. The hood has high thermal resistance, yet I felt it. The swordsman and the other gang member retreated another step, their jaws tight, his blade lowered without him even realizing it.
Infernoman raised a burning hand, aiming at the charred man in front of him.
That was when the boss finally spoke.
"Stop for a moment, Jake Zuloski."
The flames paused mid-swing.
Infernoman turned his head slightly. "How do you know my name?"
The boss straightened his coat—burning air curling inches from his skin—and smiled thinly. "You make enough noise, people notice. They call you Infernoman." His gaze sharpened, calculating. "Join my organization. I'll give you resources, territory, influence. Anything you want."
I almost laughed. Almost.
Infernoman didn't.
He waved his hand dismissively.
A wisp of flame peeled off his body and shot forward like a living thing.
"Saya—!" someone shouted.
Too late.
Before she could've react, the fire struck the boss square in the chest.
There was no scream. No struggle. His body ignited instantly, flesh blackening as his suit turned to ash. He collapsed to his knees, burning, eyes wide—not in pain, but in disbelief. In seconds, there was nothing left but a smoldering outline on the ground.
Infernoman looked down at the remains with open contempt.
"The audacity of you humans," he said calmly, voice layered with heat. "Asking me to be your subordinate." He turned, white eyes finally facing us. I felt them pass over me like I was an ant on warm stone. "You don't even have the right to look at me."
The crawling man stopped moving.
"And my name," he continued, flames rising higher, "is not Infernoman."
He lifted his chin.
"My name is Hephaestus."