Chapter 13: The Devil's Ink
The baseball bat came down.
Max didn't scream. He didn't squeeze his eyes shut.
In the fraction of a second before the wood connected with his kneecap, Max felt a surge of electricity tear through his veins. It wasn't the adrenaline of a human; it was the cold, high-voltage hum of something else.
The pain in his shoulder vanished. The agony in his ribs evaporated.
His mind, usually a chaotic storm of panic and instinct, suddenly cleared. It became a calm, frozen lake. He saw the trajectory of the bat. He calculated the velocity. He saw the weakness in Gold Tooth's stance. He saw the loose knot on the rope binding his left wrist.
Status: Low-Level Associate.
Grant: Minor Physical Enhancement. Clarity.
The words flashed in his mind like a heads-up display on a luxury car's windshield.
Max twisted his wrist. The rope didn't just loosen; it snapped. He moved his hand with a speed that blurred in the dim light. He caught the baseball bat mid-swing, inches from his knee.
The sound of the impact was a dull thwack against his palm.
Gold Tooth blinked. He pulled on the bat. It didn't move. It was held in a vice grip.
"What the..." Gold Tooth stammered.
Max looked up. His eyes were no longer grey. For a fleeting second, they were black voids.
"You have a transmission leak," Max said calmly.
He yanked the bat. Gold Tooth, off-balance, stumbled forward. Max rose from the chair, the ropes falling away from his body as if he had simply willed them to disintegrate.
He swung the bat.
It wasn't a clumsy, angry swing. It was a geometrically perfect arc. The bat connected with Gold Tooth's jaw. The sound was sickening—bone shattering like porcelain. Gold Tooth spun in the air and hit the concrete, unconscious before he landed.
The other two thugs stared, paralyzed by the sudden shift in reality. One moment they were torturing a cripple; the next, a demon was standing among them.
"Get him!" one screamed, pulling a knife.
Max watched the man move. He seemed... slow. Sluggish. Max could see the muscles in the man's arm tensing before the thrust. He stepped to the side, a casual, minimal movement. The knife slashed empty air.
Max grabbed the man's wrist. He didn't just hold it; he squeezed. He felt the radius and ulna grind together. He applied pressure. Snap.
The thug screamed, dropping the knife.
Max didn't stop. He felt a hunger inside him, a cold engine revving. He spun the thug around and drove his knee into the man's solar plexus. The force was excessive. The thug was lifted off his feet and thrown into a stack of tires, wheezing, ribs pulverized.
The third man, the youngest, dropped his weapon and ran for the door.
Max looked at the distance. Twenty feet. The man was moving at roughly fifteen miles per hour.
Max picked up a rusted wrench from the workbench. He weighed it in his hand. He didn't aim; he just calculated. Angle. Force. Rotation.
He threw it.
The wrench spun through the air, a blurring silver disc. It struck the running man in the back of the head with a wet crunch. The man dropped like a marionette with cut strings.
Silence returned to the garage.
Max stood in the center of the carnage. He looked at his hands. His shoulder was back in its socket—he hadn't even felt it pop back in. The gash on his head had sealed into a thin, white scar.
He took a deep breath. The air tasted metallic.
"First gear engaged," the voice whispered in his mind. "Not bad. But you're still driving a sedan. You want the sports car? You need to climb."
Max looked at Gold Tooth, groaning on the floor. This was the leader of a local cell. Taking him out... that was worth something.
Max walked over to Gold Tooth and rifled through his pockets. He found a wad of cash, a phone, and a heavy gold ring with the Copperhead insignia.
Max put the ring on his own pinky finger. It was too big, but he clenched his fist, and it felt right.
Status Updated: Gang Leader Defeated.
Reward: Strength Increase +5%. Durability Increase +5%.
He felt the muscles in his arms tighten, becoming denser, like steel cables weaving under his skin.
Max smiled. It was a cold, terrifying smile.
"Okay," he whispered to the empty room. "Let's see how fast this thing goes."