Zain watched as the second thug stumbled and sprinted down the alley.
But Zain wasn't in a rush.
He tilted his head slightly, a new idea forming in his mind.
"System… enable auto-absorption. I don't want to stop every time one of these rats drops."
---
[Hack Initiation: Mass Absorption]
[Target: All Recently Killed Individuals]
[Effect: Convert all corpses into Hack Points]
[Status: Executing...]
---
Behind Zain, the thug's corpse suddenly began to dissolve after being absorbed by the system.
Ding.
A small system notification blinked in his vision, confirming the Hack Points had been added.
Zain smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"Now that's convenient. Saves me the cleanup."
He rolled his neck, stretching one shoulder with a crack.
The thrill of the hunt was back.
"Let's keep going. One rat running means the rest are hiding somewhere nearby."
And with that, Zain continued to chase after the second thug, bringing him into the nest.
---
The thug went into the nearest Rust Rats hideout, sweat dripping down his face.
He ran straight to the back room, where the two C-rank enforcers sat.
Ruckle and Burnshot.
"S-Sir! We got a problem! There's a hero in the area!"
Ruckle, who was sitting on a sofa, raised his eyebrow slowly.
"A hero? You sure about that? You punks always panicking over nothing."
Burnshot leaned forward from his seat, burning paper in his palm.
"Didn't we already torch the last idiot who came sniffing around?"
His voice dripped with irritation.
"Ain't no way some low-tier hero would have the balls to walk in here again."
The thug nodded quickly, eyes wide.
"I-I know, sir, but this one's different. He's just a kid… but he's strong."
"He crushed a steel pipe with one hand. His power—it's something like Hard Grip."
Burnshot's eyes lit up at that.
"Hard Grip, huh? So he likes to crush things. Cute."
He stood up, rolling his shoulders with a predatory grin.
"Guess I'll go test if he can handle the heat. Been a while since I had a good burn."
Ruckle snorted, smirking.
"Fine by me. Go play with him. Just don't roast the whole damn block again like last time."
Burnshot glanced at the thug.
"Show me where this 'hero' was. And you—"
He gestured to the rest of the lounging gang members nearby,
"You're all coming. I want a good audience. Might be fun watching him scream."
The other thugs scrambled to follow, chuckling and murmuring among themselves.
Burnshot cracked his neck.
"Let's go meet the kid. And make sure he remembers why no one messes with the Rust Rats."
---
Zain walked slowly through the cracked pavement of CB-2.
He wasn't in a rush. He was waiting for something.
And suddenly he could hear some footsteps approaching.
He smirked as he saw multiple figures appear from the alley ahead.
"Hmph... must've brought friends."
The thug who fled earlier appeared again.
This time, he brought some more people with him.
But what caught Zain's eye wasn't the extras. It was the man leading them.
He was tall and big. His forearms also had some burn marks.
Zain stopped and smiled.
"So you're one of the C-Rank enforcers I've heard about."
The man stepped forward with a cocky smirk.
"Yeah. Name's Burnshot. You must be the loudmouth who crushed one of my boys."
Zain shrugged.
"They got in my way. I moved them. Simple."
Burnshot snorted and cracked his knuckles, little trails of heat hissing off his palms.
"This ain't a place for some cocky brat with a hero badge. You think you're tough, kid"
"You're gonna melt before you even land a hit."
Zain tilted his head, grin sharp.
"I'm not just some brat. I'm a hero. And it's my job to erase trash like you from the streets."
Burnshot's expression darkened slightly.
"Big talk. Let's see if you're still smiling when your skin's peeling off."
Zain's eyes glinted.
"Oh, I'll be smiling... when I'm done with you. You're just my second meal today."
The Rust Rats around Burnshot began to jeer and laugh, some chanting his name.
But Zain didn't even flinch.
He raised his hand slowly, cracking them.
"Let's cook all of you, shall we?"
---
Zain immediately scanned Burnshot to see what kind of ability he had before fighting.
---
[Name: Burnshot]
[Rank: C]
[Stats:]
[Str: C]
[Vit: C]
[Agi: D]
[Int: C]
[Low-Tier Ability:]
[Heat Palm: Heats his palms to searing temperatures, burning or melting anything he touches.]
---
Zain narrowed his eyes, analyzing.
"So it's like Flame Hand… but instead of generating fire, he just boosts the heat in his palms."
He nodded slightly.
"A direct-contact type. He needs to grab or strike to do damage. Got it."
Burnshot didn't wait.
"Too slow, kid!"
He roared, lunging forward.
His palms glowed red-hot, heating the air around.
He thrust one hand out, aiming for Zain's chest.
Zain reacted instantly.
He sidestepped and used his left arm to parry Burnshot's wrist, deflecting the attack.
The wave of heat grazed his sleeve—but didn't make contact.
Zain didn't hesitate.
He twisted his hips and countered—his right hand flying out, aiming for Burnshot's neck.
But Burnshot was fast, and more experienced than he looked.
He jerked his head to the side, narrowly avoiding Zain's strike.
"Nice try. But you're gonna need more than clean form to stop me!"
Zain's smirk didn't fade.
"Yeah, I know. But didn't anyone tell you? I'm not exactly normal."
Before Burnshot could react, Zain vanished and appeared right behind him in a blur.
"Too bad for you…"
Zain whispered behind his ear.
"I've got more than one trick."
He immediately shot both hands out, aiming to grab Burnshot's arms from behind and lock him down with Hard Grip.
But Burnshot's instincts kicked in.
His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed.
"Tch. You're faster than you look."
In one swift motion, Burnshot reached into his coat pocket.
He pulled out a small black canister, no larger than a coin. His palm flashed red.
Ssssk—BOOM!
He ignited the object in his own hand, setting off a small but blunt-force explosion.
The blast sent a shockwave between the two, throwing both fighters backward.
Zain flipped mid-air and landed hard on his feet, sliding back across the pavement.
Burnshot hit the ground with a grunt, rolled, and popped back up, one sleeve scorched from his own move.
"That was a custom trick, kid. You're not the only one with surprises."
Zain flexed his fingers, smoke rising from his arms where the blast had grazed him.
He smiled again, eyes gleaming.
"Now this is getting fun."