Leandro walked briskly towards the convenience store. His aura-enhanced eyesight analyzed the entirety of the shop in a grid-like 3D model inside his head. He’d have picked up her presence, not unlike an SLS Camera would on a ghost.

A headache was already incoming, but he was quick enough to scan the store not to incur more permanent damages.

‘She isn’t here.’

Not only was Nari not here… the convenience store clerk seemed to have disappeared as well.

Leandro stood outside the building, mind churning, eyes locked on the open glass doors as though it had just grown a set of legs to walk out of his sight.

Something told him that a casual stroll inside wouldn't be a good idea. It could very well be a trap—or he was just jumping to conclusions, too accustomed to living with his life being at stake, that a seemingly trivial scenario could grow in his mind like an oncoming disaster.

Either way, Nari was not where she was supposed to be.

Leandro's frown deepened as he cracked his neck.

He sharply turned around and began to scour his immediate surroundings.

He had his 'Aura' working so hard to the point that it would have overheated a gatling gun.

It was only when he turned around a corner that noises poured out of a back alley.

Leandro hastily constructed a modeling of the place in his mind.

A grid-like surface.

A group of stick figures huddling together over another one.

“Let me go!” Nari’s protests wafted out. Leandro’s eyes snapped open.

Someone might as well have poured boiling water in his veins, because hundreds of years of constant, bloody battles were ready to manifest.

With a swift tap of his foot, he disappeared from the spot in a quick dash.

His vision tunneled momentarily as his speed easily overcame human limits. The back alley spread out in front of him. Incessant laughter poured out.

Leandro immediately saw her.

Nari was struggling to pry the arms of her assailants off, a group of rough-looking teen delinquents. They had crude sneers on their faces while grabbing a bunch of her flesh through her clothes, hands tracing lines on her body to reach the prize below. She was trying hard to fend off the claws.

Blood gushed out of a tattooed man as Leandro materialized and drove his right knuckles forward in a jaw-breaking hook.

Before the thug could even realize he was punched, Leandro grabbed him by the neck. In one fluid movement, he swung him sideways as hard as he could. His target was sent tumbling along, crashing into the two gangsters in front.

Nari’s back was against a wall. Her usually haughty expression was pulled into a fearful frown. She was holding her wrist, the result of a much stronger grip squeezing her. After a lightning-fast scan, that seemed to be the only extent of Nari’s injuries.

She was fine.

But just because Nari was ‘fine’ didn’t mean Leandro would end it there. A slap on the wrist for an attempted crime? God. He couldn't even imagine what would have happened if he wasn’t there.

“Nari.”

The gangster began to pick himself up with the aid of two more. There were a total of five men, dressed in white shirts, sleeves rolled up, and black pants. Intricate and mostly pointless tattoos covered every inch of their arms.

“Get back to the car and lock yourself in.”

“W-What… b-but—”

“Do it.”

When Leandro snapped his head in her direction, Nari nearly tripped back on her behind from the feral sheen in his eyes. The composed fury expressed itself in his stare.

‘A-Are they glowing?’

She nodded shakily before she scrambled to her feet and made a run for it. She glanced back a few times, but Leandro’s eyes weren’t on her anymore.

…

“Who the fuck are you bastard, huuuh?”

A fatso swaggered over, quite threateningly. He was huge, enough for his shirt to almost pop a few buttons.

“Do you know who you messing with, boy?”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Naturally, the rest of the gang, once getting over the surprise attack, lined themselves and stalked closer. Leandro briefly noticed the store clerk on the ground, his face brutally beaten and caved in. If it wasn’t for his uniform, he probably wouldn’t have even made the connection.

Not that it mattered.

Leandro flicked his neck from side to side, drawing forth a pleasant crick. He clenched one fist. His Aura surged up his arm, caressing it in a silvery mist.

He advanced, no hesitation in his stride whatsoever.

“Look at this fella, he thinks he can take us on—”

A rivulet of blood sprayed across the wall behind him.

The gangster tumbled down, unconscious.

“Hey, you fucking bastard!”

A hand reached for Leandro, but it was so slow that he had to advance himself instead of waiting for it. He seized the wrist, thumb pressing down on the palm. It snapped. The crunch reverberated seconds before an excruciating cry rang out, as though it was straight out of a butchering video.

The ruthlessness in which their companion was disposed of made them falter, but only for an instant.

‘It’s only one dude.’

They thought.

‘We can take care of him.’

They thought.

But reality wasn’t anything like they assumed it was. Leandro didn't stop where he was, no, he dove into melee like it was the best place to be. Every punch thrown his way was swiftly avoided. Every kick was blocked and returned with ten times the strength.

Punches flew out, but they were slow and uncoordinated. Leandro weaved through them with perfect maneuvering of his head and shuffling of his feet. When an opportunity presented itself, his fist lashed out like a cobra.

Leandro could see everything, from the micro-movements of his opponent muscles to the droplets of spit as he gasped at the full impact. The gangster slumped down, holding his diaphragm. Leandro dashed forth, clutching the sides of the man’s head before sinking his knee into his face.

Bones broke. Cartilage split. Blood scattered all over Leandro’s immaculate dress shirt.

“Bring this motherfucker down!”

Another man lunged for Leandro, successfully managing to wrap his thick arms around him.

“Quick! Kill this bastard!”

Someone tried to land a hook.

A swift kick, courtesy to Leandro, shot out and dislocated the assailant’s jaw from its socket. The poor man fell down clutching his bleeding chin.

As for the one bear-hugging him from behind.

"You hug me like my older sister does. How cute."

The insult took a full second to process. In the middle of it all, Leandro swung his head backward. Cartilage broke. A nose started bleeding profusely. His captive immediately loosened up, but Leandro wouldn't allow it so simply. With 'Aura' injected through his fingers, he grabbed the fat arms locked on him.

Even if they were as big as logs, they bent like they were just another piece of soft clay.

The screaming man instinctively loosened his embrace even more. Leandro sharply thrust an elbow up into the opponent's throat, disorienting him momentarily.

The man staggered back before he went down to kiss the floor.

Leandro turned around, 'Aura' bursting through his pores.

Everyone was down, holding onto bleeding faces or broken bones.

“You… will… regret… this…”

One of the gangsters wheezed out disdainfully—precisely the one who had just fallen on the ground.

“Hoh?”

Leandro adjusted the collar of his shirt before he leisurely walked up to him. Seeing him approach, the man tried to fearfully scurry away. A foot slammed into his stomach, making him choke out more saliva.

Leandro squatted and stared right at him.

He roughly grabbed the tattooed jaw and pulled it up.

In turn, the gangster tried to look elsewhere, but it was futile against aura-enhanced eyes.

"Wh-what is it you bastard—Ahhh! Motherfucker!"

The 'Aura' searing through Leandro’s grip burnt straight through the man's cheek.

Like a piece of ice given a hair dryer, it spread with surprising quickness, engulfing the cheek entirely.

"Listen to me, boy. You've just signed your own fucking death contract. All of you. Tell me where the rest of you are located, and I might leave your corpse with few intact bones."

The searing 'Aura' spread to his ear before it began burning through the cartilage. At the start it only nibbled away like a powerful mosquito biting him, but now it spread outwards like drops of lava—and just as insufferably hot.

"Ahhhh! Let me go! Fucking shit! Just let me go! God—please… stop it... stop—"

"Location. Speak up now and it'll end for you."

The man coughed up spittle. He tried to break loose. He even resorted to holding on to Leandro's hands, burning himself further, like he'd go mad soon after.

"Speak up already!" Leandro's growl erupted amidst the cries for help.

"Speak… fuck, I'll speak—"

Leandro lowered the 'Aura' output. The last thing he needed was for the idiot to pass out.

“It’s—Ah… It’s behind the old bakery across town… the… the one where that dude was killed… Ahh—Just let me go! No—Ah—Please!”

The man was hoisted up to the air by the fat of his neck.

Leandro tucked a hand in the pocket of his slacks as he held the man at eye-level.

The gangster kept crying and wailing, despite the fact that Leandro wasn't even doing anything anymore. The only thing searing through him were Leandro's eyes—eyes that seemed to be capable of disintegrating a human skull right now.

The tattooed man wasn't looking at him. His bloodshot gaze was darting everywhere else. He cried for help, despite the fact that his companions on the floor weren't making any more of a ruckus.

"You didn't quite expect this would happen by accosting a young girl, would you?" Leandro spoke leisurely. The man's legs jerked. "Ah, how the world comes crashing down with one simple mistake. Now all of you are fucked."

"Please! Just let me… please—Ah! Help! Hel—"

Leandro threw the gangster like he weighed the same as a pillow. His fat body shot through the air. Right as it began to arc down, it hit against a wall in a painful crunch.

That was not the end of it. Leandro sidled up to his downed, broken form with a relaxed stride.

“Not speaking anymore?”

“......”

Leandro placed his foot on one of the gangster’s wrists.

His eyes went wide open before—

Leandro abruptly stopped and leveled his eyes to his left, at the entrance of the back alley. Standing there, smiling sadistically, with gleaming eyes, was Heo Yuhee.

Yuhee clapped her hands as she advanced, casually kicking aside the gangsters lying on the ground like they were trash.

She had a mini black skirt on. The zipper of her leather jacket was done as far as it went.

Underneath that jacket was nothing but a crimson blouse that hugged her chest area. Her usual cold, calculating gaze was now heated up—the result of witnessing Leandro break bones and throw grown men across the ground as though it were part of some kind of twisted acrobatic performance.

It sent shivers straight to her loins. It made her womanhood feel like it had a fever.

To Yuhee, a thug getting beaten down was already something exciting.

However, to see Leandro being the beating hand, that was leagues above a different orgasm. The fact that he looked chic while doing just made her eyes glitter more, but that was neither here nor there.

Yuhee kept walking forward, maintaining that sultry smile and that alluring stare.

She bit her lip, staring at him quite provocatively.

“Long time no see, Lee-an-dro.”