BANG!
The door flew open with a deafening crash as Logan burst into the kitchen. His heart pounded violently in his chest while his eyes swept the space in frantic desperation, every fraction of a second feeling like an eternity.
Then he saw her.
At the far end of the cramped kitchen, his mother was pressed helplessly against the cold wall, her hands pinned above her head by a towering man whose shadow swallowed her whole.
Her face was pale with fear, and the terror in her eyes made something inside Logan snap instantly.
He did not think.
Logan surged forward at full speed, the worn floor creaking under his feet before he slammed straight into the man with all the strength his body could muster.
The impact was brutal. The thug was thrown sideways, crashing into the kitchen counter as dishes shattered around him. Logan went down with him, rolling across the floor in a tangled heap.
The man snarled as he struggled beneath Logan, rage flashing across his twisted face.
"Who the hell dares interrupt my sweet time?!"
Logan barely heard him. His vision burned red as he finally registered the man's face.
He was Charles, one of the loan shark's dogs. An underling who had shown up far too many times at their door with threats and thinly veiled smiles.
But none of that mattered now.
Someone had been moments away from laying hands on his mother. That thought alone made Logan's blood boil like molten steel.
"You bastard! I will kill you today!" Logan roared, his voice shaking with raw fury.
His fists came down like hammers!
The first punch snapped Charles's head sideways. The second drove the air from his lungs. Logan felt nothing but the resistance of flesh and bone beneath his knuckles as years of suppressed anger poured out all at once.
Just then, the two subordinates who had been watching everything unfold reacted.
They rushed forward and grabbed at Logan's arms, trying to pull him away, but it was useless. Even restrained, Logan's body twisted violently, and his punches still landed with terrifying force.
BANG!
BANG!
Each blow was heavier than the last, carrying the weight of countless nights spent working himself to exhaustion.
Logan had laboured for nearly ten years to keep his mother afloat.
His strength had been carved through hardship and hunger, far beyond what any ordinary eighteen-year-old should possess. And these men were nothing more than average thugs who had never truly suffered.
Seeing that Charles was quickly losing consciousness, one of the subordinates panicked.
He bolted out of the kitchen as his footsteps echoed loudly. Moments later, he returned, gripping a steel pipe tightly.
He approached from behind, breathing heavily, eyes fixed on Logan's unguarded head. He raised the pipe slowly, carefully, making sure the swing would not miss.
Then he struck.
But the impact never came.
A sudden arc of compressed wind ripped through the air with a sharp howl. The steel pipe was torn from the man's hands as if struck by an invisible blade, and the force carried him across the room, slamming his body violently into the far wall.
Cracks spread outward from the point of impact as he collapsed to the floor, unmoving.
Logan felt the pressure shift and instinctively looked up.
Hovering above him was Sage.
The usual carefree expression was gone, replaced by a cold, unreadable stare. The air around him churned violently with wind. As expected of a wind-type Nightmare!
"To lay hands on a woman…" Sage said calmly, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade, "You truly are the lowest kind of scum."
The kitchen erupted as several wind barrages descended in rapid succession, smashing into the remaining subordinate and sending them crashing across the room.
At the same time, Logan continued to drive his fists into Charles's face, determined to make sure the man would never threaten his family again.
Seeing that Logan was not going to stop like this, Sarah rushed forward and hugged him tightly from behind.
"Logan, stop," she said shakily, her voice filled with panic. "You will kill him."
She felt both pride and fear twisting painfully inside her chest. She was proud that her son had stood up for her when she had been helpless, yet that pride was quickly drowned by terror as she imagined the consequences.
If Logan truly killed someone, the Walker Association would take him away without mercy, and she might never see him again. She could not allow that to happen, no matter what.
As her grip tightened and her trembling hands pressed against his body, Logan finally felt the shaking that ran through her arms. The heat in his blood slowly cooled as reality returned to him. After a long moment, he stopped moving and straightened his back before carefully standing up.
Charles lay sprawled on the floor, his chest rising unevenly as he barely clung to consciousness. Logan looked down at him with cold eyes before speaking.
"What is your bitchass here for?" Logan asked.
The words sounded foreign even to his own ears. He rarely ever swore, and his mother had always believed that he did not even know such words existed. However, this situation was far from normal, and Logan no longer cared about appearances.
Charles spat out a mouthful of blood as he coughed heavily, his lips twisting into a disgusting smile despite his condition.
"Your mother hasn't paid for the past two months," he said between suppressed coughs. "The boss wants his money, and if she cannot pay with cash, then she will have to pay another way."
As he spoke, his gaze slowly drifted toward Sarah, filled with shameless lust, as though the brutal beating he had just received meant nothing to him.
Logan clenched his fists tightly.
"I see that you have become a Walker," Charles continued hoarsely, emboldened by his own words. "But do not get ahead of yourself. The boss has many Walkers working under him as well. If you kill me, you will have both the Walker Association and my boss chasing after you."
A weak laugh escaped his mouth as he went on.
"And you only awakened a scout owl, did you not? A useless thing. You are no different from us. Do not think you are some big shot just because you awakened."
Logan's eyes darkened completely as he listened to those words, yet his voice remained calm when he spoke again.
"How much is the money pending?" Logan asked.
Charles hesitated for a moment before answering, sensing the danger in Logan's tone.
"Ten thousand dollars upfront," he replied slowly. "And two hundred and fifty thousand dollars by the end of the month."
Logan knew that if he continued listening to this man any longer, he would lose control again, so he chose to end it immediately. Before Charles could react, Logan suddenly grabbed him by the collar and slammed his head forward, smashing it violently against his own.
"Stay away from my mother, you son of a bitch!" Logan shouted, making sure every word reached Charles's fading consciousness.
Charles's body went limp instantly as blood flowed down from his forehead, and he collapsed onto the floor without another sound.
Logan then turned toward the only remaining thug who was still conscious, his gaze sharp and unforgiving.
"Come here and give me your boss's bank details," Logan said coldly.
The man swallowed nervously as he stepped forward, his legs trembling under Logan's stare.
"I am sorry," he pleaded desperately. "I was only asked to accompany him. I had no role in what happened."
"I do not care," Logan replied flatly. "Give me the details."
The man did not dare hesitate again. With shaking hands, he handed over the information, and Logan immediately transferred ten thousand dollars, the money he had received only moments earlier.
"Go tell your boss that he will receive the remaining amount on time," Logan said as he returned the phone. "Now leave."
The man nodded repeatedly before quickly lifting the unconscious bodies of the other two men and rushing out of the shop, disappearing across the street as if his life depended on it.