Following behind Shad, Sigmarus crawled onto the boxing stage. Although Torin’s words made him a little anxious, he couldn’t help thinking that this opportunity could allow him to determine how much the silver tattoo had changed him. Beating those three sickly men who previously tried to rob him didn’t give him a good understanding of his current strength. Even his old twig self likely could have held his own against them, albeit with a higher chance of wounds or death. Compared to those three, Shad looked like a monster. Sigmarus didn’t believe he could win due to his lack of fighting experience or knowledge, but taking a few hits would probably be doable. Pondering on such things, Sigmarus stood up in the ring and stared at Shad with a questioning look.

“You ever fought anyone before?” Shad asked, his voice cold as though disinterested.

“Fighting? Once or twice.”

A glint of curiosity flashed in Shad’s eyes, and he raised a brow. Noticing something about the way Sigmarus answered, he glanced over Sigmarus’ physique once again before asking, “You got that body from only fighting once or twice and exercising?”

“Well, I’ve got my ass beat more times than I can remember, if that counts.”

“Oh, right. Bossman said you got banished from upstairs, so you probably got ganged up on before, huh?”

The man’s words cut like a knife, but Sigmarus’ heart was hard enough to not be bothered by such things. Rather than getting worked up, he simply sighed and said, “Something like that.”

“Well, whatever. Come at me.”

“So we’re sparring?”

“Fighting.”

“Alright, then.”

Briefly nodding in understanding, Sigmarus stepped forward and raised his guard.

“Sloppy,” Shad muttered while crossing his arms.

He’s not really taking this seriously. Well, can’t blame him. I wouldn’t either in his position, Sigmarus thought before stepping forward again.

Since he wasn’t sure what else to do, he simply thrust with his right fist to test the waters. Suddenly, something tapped the inside of his arm. A hand slapped against his sternum. A heel pulled his legs out from under him. Next thing he knew, his back slammed on the ground and his vision turned dizzy as he stared at the ceiling. He barely saw Shad move in that brief second.

Stomping on Sigmarus’ chest, Shad mumbled, “That’s one death.”

Under the force of the man’s heel, Sigmarus coughed. He continued staring at the ceiling with blank eyes. Seconds later, Shad removed his foot, and Sigmarus’ eyes refocused. Luckily, the man’s foot barely avoided landing on his chest wound, causing him to breathe out a sigh of relief.

Seeing Shad staring down at him a meter away with crossed arms, Sigmarus quickly rolled over and stood while avoiding putting weight on his injury. The cuts on his arms had healed enough not to bother him, but the chest wound still needed a few days at least.

“Should I have mentioned I have a chest injury?” Sigmarus asked.

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“I already noticed it. You’re favoring one side of your body.”

Sigmarus furrowed his brows but listened carefully to the man’s words.

“If you were fighting in a turf war, others would aim for it. In the future, don’t be so careful towards your wounds.”

“Got it.”

“Well, at least it seems you can take a hit or two. Maybe we can use you as a meatshield?” Shad taunted, obviously trying to make Sigmarus attack him again.

“Not a fan of that idea,” Sigmarus calmly replied while raising his guard again. This time, however, he avoided favoring his right side even though it strained his wound.

Instead of charging forward right away, Sigmarus carefully stepped forward while observing his opponent. The guy was obviously testing him, but he wanted to get in at least one hit in.

Upon seeing Sigmarus’ careful approach, the eyes of both Shad and Torin lit up. Someone capable of overlooking even basic taunts was far more useful in a turf war or in climbing than a hotblooded fool, though the latter obviously had their own uses as well.

Sigmarus noticed Shad’s appreciative glance, but didn’t know what it was for. Instead, he focused every ounce of his perception outward in the hopes that he would find a way to fight back even a little against this experienced fighter. Focusing so hard on his perception for the first time sucked away his mental strength. Only a few seconds passed, yet he felt as drained as though he had just written an essay.

This never happened before. Why is it so exhausting just to feel things with my perception? Whatever, let’s just charge in and see what happens.

Ignoring how much his perception was draining his energy, he lunged forward to Shad’s left. He jabbed toward the man’s abdomen to test the waters again.

Opposite him, Shad suddenly felt the hairs on his arms bristling. His eyes briefly widened, then narrowed. He subconsciously unfolded his arms to counter.

Sigmarus’ fist struck out, but his target slid around the thrust like a snake. The edges of his sixth sense trembled near his outstretched arm. His hairs stood on end. He pulled back his right arm before Shad could grab it and punched with his left, but the target vanished from his line of sight. Even his perception failed to feel anything.

A chill shot down Sigmarus’ spine. Before he could react, a blur skated in front of him. A sharp hit connected with his chin. His brain rattled. As his vision darkened, he struggled to comprehend what he just experienced.

After Sigmarus lost consciousness, Shad caught his slumped form and gently laid him on the ring. Staring at Sigmarus, he once again crossed his arms, and his brows wrinkled.

“Hey, man! Why’d you get so serious all of a sudden?!” Torin exclaimed, hopping into the ring with a worried expression on his forgettable face.

“It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Huh?! Not on purpose?! You nearly broke his fucking jaw!”

“I held back at the last second, so he’ll be fine.”

“Damn. Hope he doesn’t hold a grudge. It’ll be harder to convince him to climb if he does. Seriously, though, why’d you go so far as to use your power?”

“...I didn’t feel a sense of danger or anything, but the second time he came at me, it felt like I was being locked on by a thousand pairs of eyes. I reacted on instinct.”

Torin raised his brows, then furrowed them. He rubbed his chin and muttered, “A thousand pairs of eyes? Weird. Does he have a positive strain mutation, too? Thought he only had a negative one.”

Shad shrugged as though it didn’t have anything to do with him.

“Well, whatever. If he has one, then we definitely need to convince him to climb. I’ll bring him to the Quack real quick for an inspection. We can restart his training from a different angle tomorrow. You okay with that?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. I’ll send Duke a message.”

With that settled, Torin knelt down and then grunted as he lifted Sigmarus onto his shoulders. Both he and Shad left the hangar and shut everything down before heading in separate directions outside.

As Torin walked further down Red Street with Sigmarus limply hanging over his shoulders, Shad glanced at him one more time with cold but curious eyes.

“Didn’t feel like a mutation. Maybe I should ask gramps about it,” He mumbled to himself before sticking a strange white candy between his lips and leaving Red Street.