Vance pressed both palms flat against the table.

"I asked for support proportional to the threat. An entire facility gone. Dozens of men dead. Three of your people dead. And they only sent me ten members?"

The woman closest to the table did not blink.

"We are more than enough." she assured him.

"You haven’t seen this man." he protested.

"We’ve heard the report."

"Hearing it and understanding it are two different things."

Vance leaned forward. "He killed your three members in an instant. I spoke to him myself, and I’m telling you—that guy is abnormally strong."

"Your facility was poorly secured, and your men were taken by surprise. We’re a lot stronger than those three, so don’t worry."

He pushed back from the table slightly, frustration tightening the corners of his mouth. He was strong in his prime, but age had already caught up with him.

"They should have sent at least one Elite member. Not a cleanup crew."

She looked offended, but still kept her professionalism.

"There is no situation here that justifies such a response. Our elite teams are busy dealing with real problems. A single person causing trouble is hardly an issue for us."

"You youngsters and your ego." Vance shook his head and let the matter go. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

The area remained quiet.

One of them—the quietest in the room—lifted his head and, without warning, drew his weapon.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Each shot punched through the ceiling in a tight cluster, tearing through the grille and the wood behind it.

"Be ready, we have company!" he shouted, realizing he had missed his mark.

For a second nothing moved.

Then the table exploded.

Francis came through the roof opening and dropped straight down, both feet connecting with the center of the table.

The wood gave out instantly, collapsing inward and blasting splinters outward in every direction.

He landed in a low crouch amid the wreckage, one hand pressed to the floor to absorb the impact.

"He’s here!"

The woman moved without hesitation. She grabbed Vance by the collar and shoved him hard toward the back wall, putting herself on the line.

The others moved quickly to neutralize the threat. Their coordination was clean.

Unfortunately, they were dealing with someone far beyond their level.

He straightened up and drove his fist into the floor.

BOOM!

The shockwave rolled outward in every direction. It hit the nearest ones first, lifting them off their feet before they could plant for a shot.

The ones further back were caught mid-step and thrown sideways. Crates shifted. The hanging lamps swung hard on their cables, throwing the light across the room in uneven sweeps.

Francis did not press his advantage immediately. He just stood there, as if their presence wasn’t even worth acknowledging.

His eyes found Vance, already trying to get up.

"I gave you a way out," Francis said. "You could have taken the offer and walked away alive."

Vance’s mouth moved but nothing came out.

"You chose to run instead," Francis said, taking one step forward and stepping over the broken table without looking down. "You think they’ll protect you, but all I see here are small fry—"

BANG!

BANG!

Two bullets cut straight toward his face.

His hand came up.

Both rounds disappeared into his closed fist.

He stood there, arm still raised, fingers wrapped around small objects that should have been inside his skull.

Then he opened his hand and looked down at the two flattened slugs like they were nothing more than coins he had found on the ground.

He wasn’t even looking at the shooter when he let them fall.

tick. tick.

The sound they made hitting the floor was embarrassingly small.

Nobody in the room moved. Not because they were waiting for an order. Not because they were repositioning.

They had simply stopped, every one of them, in the way people stop when the thing in front of them stops making sense.

Francis finally looked at the pistol user.

"Is that your best?"

The shooter’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t dare speak or fire another round.

"Wait," her words came out in panic.

"Let’s talk about this. My name is Rachel." she held up one hand toward the others — not a signal to stand down, just a request for a few seconds.

She had seen strong fighters before. She worked alongside elite members and watched them dismantle rooms full of powerful men.

But what she just witnessed did not belong in the same category. It was on another level.

"I heard you’re from another organization trying to take root in our city. Maybe we can negotiate and find common ground?"

She quickly shifted from neutralization to a peace talk, to save her life.

"I don’t think any of you are qualified to negotiate with me."

Rachel’s expression tightened slightly, but she forced herself to stay calm.

"I might not be qualified, but my cousin is an elite member..."

"...I’m sure if you tell us your demands, we can work something out," she said, glancing briefly at the others before looking back at him.

"Our organization already has connections—government, Defense Force, and more. Allying with us is better than starting a war."

She made her point.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t care less about any of it. He had only pretended before to lure Vance out—a move that was no longer necessary now.

"Let’s not waste time here," he said. His eyes swept across the room, landing on each of them once before settling back on Vance. "You’re all dead anyway—so you might as well try your luck and go for the kill."

Nobody moved for a full second.

Rachel’s short blade flashed into view as she moved, already closing the distance.

The others followed in the same breath — all of them from every angle.

No hesitation, no signal between them. Just the collective decision of people who had run out of better options.

The pistol user opened fire as he charged, using precise shots to distract Francis.

’This should be more interesting.’