"Marcus gave you a choice to join our shelter… you refused… I'll offer you a different one, and I hope you choose differently. Or else…" Mark left the rest unsaid, but the threat was as clear as the day it was said in.

It was obvious from their aggressive postures and earlier comments that they were not going to leave without conflict, so John prepared to react to any sign of attack.

Hm?

Slightly tilting his head, he glanced to the left and noticed another man peeking through a gap from the first-floor balcony. That was the third, and hopefully last, person thinking of himself hidden around him.

"You either leave all your unjustly obtained items with us, or we will beat them out of you. Don't worry though, unless you do something stupid, nothing truly bad will happen to you," Mark continued in an earnest tone.

Does he think I am stupid?

A woman with short braided hair leaned to Mark and whispered, "Make him give us his cards, we can't get anything after he's dead."

Unfortunately for her, John was able to make it out.

I see… I was hoping to avoid this, but…

Without giving anything out, he willed his stiletto to carefully fly above the first-floor balcony.

"I don't want any trouble, but I need my stuff," John said in an intimidated tone, "I could let you have my new cloak. It was over a hundred blue ash, would that…"

He willed the dagger to fly behind the crouching man and cut through his whole neck in one wicked swoop. The gurgling was very soft, but a small thud could be overheard as the corpse collapsed on the hard floor of the balcony. Luckily, they were all focusing on the high price of the mantle he wore.

"...be a fair compensation to solve our conflict and part ways?"

"Bullshit!" Cried out a stocky man on the right.

"Shut it, Rich. I remember looking at that cloak yesterday. He is telling the truth," added the woman with braided hair in an eager tone.

"Interesting, tell you what," Mark tapped his foot, "that cloak, and the flying ball of lightning. Give me those, and we'll call ourselves even. How does that sound?"

The second guy was hiding behind a crashed yellow Honda to his right, and the third was someone standing right behind the broken door leading to the left building.

That one is probably there to ambush me if I try to run into cover. Let's start with the one behind the car.

There is a saying that people rarely look up when expecting danger, and letting his flying weapon fly fifty meters up was enough to easily cross the street, fly behind the six who were standing roughly ten meters away from him, and then move close to the ground all the way to the clueless guy's back on the right side.

"Ok, ok. If I do that, will you really let me go?"

"Yes, you have my word," Mark said with a business-like smile.

Pulling out a random common card, he slowly leaned down and placed it on the ground in front of him.

There he was. The guy behind the Honda—actually a woman—was lying prone on her stomach, mostly under the car, and the only reason he noticed her was that he knew where to look.

If she didn't fidget so loud, I might have missed her.

As he was beginning to stand up, he willed his dagger to fly under the car from the end of the street and embed itself into her neck, severing her spine in one devastating stab.

"Rich, bring it up, and you take a few steps back… don't try anything stupid."

Nodding, John stepped back, letting Rich come over and pick the card up.

"Hey!" John yelled out the moment Rich held the card in his hand, covering their view with his broad back. "He… he switched it! I saw him hide it in his deck and pull out a new one!"

"Wha?"

"Rich, did you really think…"

"I didn't boss, I swear…"

Using the commotion, John let his stiletto fly up high, and behind the five.

"One of you is lying to me, and I don't like to be lied to. Lin, do it,"

John felt more than saw a translucent pulse of energy pass through him, immediately followed by the commanding feminine voice of the other woman from their group. "On the ground, now!"

There was something pushing on his mind, attempting to force him into obedience, but that command hit an impenetrable wall and merely passed around like a river flowing around a large rock.

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That didn't happen to Rick, whose eyes turned glassy and he pushed himself into the broken asphalt like his life depended on it.

"Shit!" Seeing the self-assuredness morph into confusion, Mark gave out a short command. "Kill him, now!"

John, expecting a conflict, was already willing his dagger to strike the leftmost man wearing a heavy plate into the gap between his chest armor and the metal helmet, willing his wisp to strike Mark with a lightning bolt, and throwing his suddenly materialized javelin at the short overweight man wearing a chainmail.

It took them only a second to react, but unfortunately in a life-and-death scenario, a second is a long time.

John remembered the way he had pushed his Fate into the Alpha yesterday and tried to replicate the same feeling with the intent of hitting the overweight man with his javelin through the center of his chest. Going by his gut he willed his spear to hit true but felt his Fate impact a flimsy barrier protecting the man in front of him.

He felt that barrier crumble on impact, but it was enough to successfully divert his Fate-attack off course and save him from a certain death.

Argh, the sudden pain of overtaxing his Fate hit him hard, clouding his vision, dulling his hearing, and making him stumble.

Near-blind, he lifted his hand in the direction the five stood, and let the Wave of force out. That would hopefully buy him enough time to find his bearing.

His hearing was the first to come back, and he picked up the panicked screams, desperate chokes, and something moving to his left.

Fuck!

Something whizzed through the air fast enough to catch him off-guard and impact the left side of his neck. It must have been some heavy, but also sharp object, because the impact was concentrated mostly on one spot. Very likely, the mantle had just saved his life, because instead of tearing through his spine, the projectile couldn't find purchase and slid to the side.

That didn't mean he got off light. The whole side of his neck was heavily bruised, and turning his head brought nasty pain shooting all the way up to his head. However, he lived and that was all that currently mattered.

His vision was coming back, and he saw a hazy silhouette of the guy pressing into the ground two meters in front of him, and unwilling to put himself at risk, he willed his club to come out from his bag, made two quick steps forward, and delivered a devastating strike to the side of his head.

Ouch, John thought as he watched the head explode in all directions, and stain his new boots in brain matter. He could make out the positions of the five in the distance, and out of them, the only ones moving were two women, and the overweight guy clutching a javelin sticking out from his thigh.

The woman with the braid was kneeling over a silhouette who he believed to be Mark, moving her blurry hands over the place where Mark's head should be.

She is trying to heal him! John realized and immediately willed his stiletto to attack her open back.

Not having any more time to spare and not noticing any imminent threats from those in front, he turned toward the one on his left.

It was… John wasn't sure who it was. He couldn't make out the details yet, but that didn't matter and he advanced toward him in an aggressive manner, keeping his shield ready to intercept any follow-up attacks.

"No! S-stay back," cried a male voice, "I… I will…" He was backing away until he collided with a house wall, and lifted his right arm toward him.

Seeing the potentially aggressive gesture, John whipped his arm forward and tossed his club at his chest.

The guy reacted fast and jumped to the side, saving himself from the debilitating injuries. The club flew through the spot he was standing in, collided with the brick wall, and embedded itself into it. He might have evaded the throw, but it took him enough time for John to catch up and deliver a punch to the side of his head.

Another one down, looking up, his vision was now mostly back, and he saw the last woman shaking her head and backing away.

"Please, don't. I… I am sorry," she sobbed.

Her voice was surprisingly different, John pondered, comparing it with the commanding shout from before.

"You are Lin?"

"Mhm," she quickly nodded her head.

"Tell me, Lin. Why did you try to kill me?"

"I… We didn't mean to. Mark… he told us that you stole from the shelter and we… oh God,"

She looked at his charred head and broke down into a sobbing mess.

John didn't know what to do with her, so he looked around.

Did I really do all that?

Out of the nine aggressors, four have died from the wounds caused by his stiletto, one from the horrific burns from the lightning bolt, one to his club, and one to…

"Hey, Lin! You should help that one before he bleeds out," John pointed at the man who passed out from shock and bleeding from the jagged tear on his thigh.

He could try to get more information out of her, but would it even matter? He didn't particularly care, and with Mark dead the problem should be already solved.

"Lin, you should also let Marcus know what happened here and what Mark was trying to do. And don't try to make up some lies, you tried to kill me, failed, and paid the price."

He could have probably sorted through their corpses and taken all their valuable items, but the adrenaline rush was fading out, and reality was sinking in. He just killed six people like they were nothing and he felt barely any regrets.

It was easy to convince himself that they deserved to die. They attacked him first… well technically not, but the intent was there. Plus it was eight against one situation.

Walking away and killing any respawned undead blocking his way, he was thinking about the way he handled the conflict and had to agree with his initial impulse. He believed he handled the situation correctly.

He could have evaded the whole encounter by turning around, but that wouldn't solve the issue and only put him at risk later. He also could have immediately responded with violence, likely catching them off-guard and killing everyone before they were able to muster up any response. That however wasn't the way he wanted to act. And lastly, he could have tried to fight to incapacitation. Aim for legs instead of the neck or head…

I could have, but I just as well could have taken a bad wound and gotten overwhelmed. No, my response was correct and people need to learn that if they mess around, they will find out!

After passing through the fifth intersection, he turned into the first abandoned building and prepared to head into his shelter, because there were rewards to be had.