"We are going to hijack their raid," Zen corrected, rolling his shoulders. "Watch and learn, Maya. This is how the Ghost goes to work."

With that, he stepped off the ledge.

The fifty-foot drop meant nothing to him. He dived into the center of the ruined industrial plaza, landing directly between the retreating Synapse strike team and the giant Titan-Arachnid. His boots hit the reinforced concrete with a loud crash, instantly cracking the ground into a massive spider-web of cracks.

The sudden shockwave knocked two of the corporate mercenaries off their feet.

"Who the hell is that?" one of the mercs yelled, scrambling backward and aiming his plasma rifle at the new arrival.

"Look at the mask! It’s the Ghost Scrapper!" the squad’s heavy gunner shouted in disbelief.

The Titan-Arachnid didn’t care about the interruption. It let out a horrific screech of grinding metal and pressurized steam. Rearing back on its hind legs, it whipped one of its massive, bladed front limbs directly down at Zen, aiming to cleave him in half.

Up on the ledge, Maya held her breath, her fingers gripping her staff tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

Zen didn’t dodge; he didn’t even draw a weapon.

Instead, a suffocating, dense aura of gold-purple mana flared violently around his right arm. He raised his hand and caught the massive blade mid-strike.

CLANG!

The kinetic impact generated a shockwave that completely blew away the surrounding neon smog. The sheer force of the block drove Zen’s boots an inch into the solid concrete, but his arm did not buckle. He held the High C-Rank boss’s limb in place with pure, raw physical strength.

"You rely on tech," Zen said, though only the monster and Maya could hear the deadly calm in his voice. "Let me show you raw power."

Zen’s fingers dug into the black steel of the arachnid’s leg. With a brutal, twisting jerk, he ripped the ten-foot bladed limb completely out of its hydraulic socket.

Black oil and green acid sprayed across the plaza. The Titan-Arachnid shrieked, stumbling backward as it lost its balance.

Zen didn’t give it a second to recover.

He blurred forward, crossing the distance in a fraction of a second.

Using the torn-off leg as a makeshift javelin, he channeled his Emperor mana into the steel and hurled it directly into the boss’s center of mass. The heavy blade pierced the arachnid’s thick shell, pinning it to the floor.

[System Alert: Target Health reduced by 40%.]

[Warning: Titan-Arachnid entering Enrage Phase.]

The spider’s optical sensors shifted from red to a blinding, furious white. Vents along its abdomen hissed, rapidly releasing a cloud of toxic, highly corrosive green gas to melt everything within a fifty-foot radius.

The Synapse mercenaries screamed, frantically trying to backpedal as their armor’s internal hazard alarms blared.

Zen stood dead center in the gas cloud. The corrosive acid simply bounced off the dense layer of gold-purple mana cloaking his body. He walked forward, completely unbothered by the deadly environment.

The boss broke free from the pinned leg and lunged, snapping its massive acid-dripping mandibles at Zen’s head.

Zen sidestepped the lethal bite. He covered his fists in mana and started to take apart the C-Rank machine. He moved faster than the mercenaries’ sensors could track, looking like a blur of dark fabric and destructive golden light.

He shattered its left knee joint with a sweeping kick, dropping the boss to one side. As it fell, Zen drove a concentrated mana-infused punch straight into its armored thorax, caving in the black steel.

Within thirty seconds, the High C-Rank boss was reduced to a sparking, crippled heap of scrap metal.

Zen stood over the ruined head of the arachnid. He drove his hand deep into the exposed wiring of its thorax, bypassing the corrosive acid sacks, and forcefully yanked his arm back.

A massive, perfectly intact High C-Rank core glowing with a sickly green light rested in his palm.

[System Alert: Combat Concluded. Threat Eliminated.]

[Loot Procured: High C-Rank Toxic Mechanical Core x1.]

The corrosive gas cloud slowly dissipated, sucked away by the ventilation drafts of the underground plaza.

Silence fell over the arena.

Up on the ledge, Maya let out a long, shaky exhale, her heart pounding against her ribs. She had watched every move he made. It wasn’t just a fight; it was a masterclass in overwhelming force and mana control.

Down in the plaza, the Synapse mercenaries slowly picked themselves up from the rubble. They stared at the destroyed boss, and then at the solitary figure in the matte-black tactical suit holding the glowing core.

For a moment, there was nothing but shocked awe. Then, human greed and corporate arrogance took over.

The Synapse Captain, with his white armor heavily scorched, stepped forward. He raised his plasma rifle, aiming it squarely at Zen’s chest. The five remaining mercenaries immediately followed his lead, forming a semi-circle and locking their targeting lasers onto the Ghost Scrapper.

"Drop the core, Scrapper," the Captain ordered, his voice amplified through his helmet’s external speakers. "That is Synapse Industries property."

Zen didn’t raise his hands. He didn’t even drop his casual stance. He just slowly turned his head to look at the Captain.

"Your squad was exactly forty-five seconds away from total liquidation," Zen noted, his voice carrying a metallic, mocking edge. "I just saved your lives."

"You interfered with a legally sanctioned corporate raid," the Captain fired back, stepping closer to project authority. "We had the boss weakened. You just swooped in to steal the kill. Now, put the core on the ground and step away, or we will open fire. We have the entire encounter recorded on our internal optics. You don’t want to make an enemy of Synapse."

Zen stared at the blue targeting lasers painting his chest, and he couldn’t help the dark, quiet laugh that escaped him.

"You think you have leverage," Zen said softly.

Then he stopped suppressing his aura.

The fraction of his Imperial mana that Zen released didn’t just fill the air; it crushed it. The ambient gravity in the plaza seemed to multiply tenfold in an instant.

The mercenaries didn’t even have time to pull their triggers. The overwhelming pressure slammed into them like a physical wall.

The Captain choked, his knees instantly buckling. He hit the concrete hard, his plasma rifle clattering uselessly out of his hands. Around him, the rest of his squad collapsed into the dirt, entirely paralyzed by the terrifying weight of Zen’s aura.

They couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t move. The Captain stared up at the Ghost Scrapper in paralyzing horror. This wasn’t a normal scrapper. This was a monster wearing a human suit.

Zen casually slipped the C-Rank core into his spatial ring. He looked up toward the overlooking ledge at Maya.

"Come on down."

Maya didn’t hesitate. She channeled a small burst of mana to her boots, softening her landing as she dropped from the ledge and landed lightly beside Zen. Her staff hummed with green energy.

The Synapse Captain forced his eyes to move, staring at the new arrival in terror.

"I operate strictly off-the-books," Zen told the kneeling mercenaries, his voice devoid of any mercy. "Which means I don’t leave witnesses, and I certainly don’t leave recordings."

He turned to Maya. "They rely entirely on their batteries and internal optics. Shatter them."

Maya looked down at the arrogant corporate team pinned to the dirt. She remembered how quickly they had turned their weapons on Zen after he saved them. Her sympathy completely vanished.

She stepped forward and slammed the base of her staff into the concrete. Her eyes flared with predatory gold.

"Leech."

A wave of concentrated, violent green magic pulsed outward from her staff, washing directly over the mercenaries. But instead of draining their life force, she commanded the spell to target the energy cells powering their tech.

The mercenaries’ armor sparked violently. Their plasma rifles short-circuited with loud pops. The external lights on their suits died, and the internal recording optics built into their helmets shattered under the sudden energy overload.

In less than two seconds, millions of credits worth of high-end Synapse tech was reduced to dead, useless metal.

Maya stepped back, the golden glow fading from her eyes as she absorbed the massive rush of stolen electrical energy, safely grounding it through her staff.

The plaza was plunged into darkness, illuminated only by faint, lightening in the sky.

"Their suits are dead," Maya reported quietly. "Comms, cameras, and weapons are fried. They’re blind."

"Good work, Protégé," Zen said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

He looked down one last time at the Captain, who was now trapped inside a heavy, powerless suit of armor in the middle of a dark Fracture Zone.

"Abandon your metals and find your own way out. And the next time you enter a zone," Zen warned the darkness, "learn how to fight for yourselves."

With that, Zen and Maya turned their backs on the ruined strike team and disappeared into the neon smog, leaving the arrogant mercenaries completely stranded in the dark, with zero proof that the Ghost Scrapper had ever been there.