{You have just been threatened by the mafia boss Carl}
{Quest Alert: Show him what you got by defeating him and his lapdogs}
{Quest Rewards: +300 XP; instant level up; +4 STR stat}
"Oh! The cat got your tongue or what?" Carl asked with a devilish grin, pointing the gun steadily at Max. The young man gulped loudly, the sound echoing in his throat as if the very air had grown heavier.
"Why did you have to say anything?!" Pix screamed in Max’s mind, her voice sharp with frustration.
"No matter how fast or above the human status you are right now, you think you can survive that? You’re just a vessel, not even a true dragon yet, and you’re running your mouth? Fine then! Have fun getting out of this alive."
Carl’s finger slid across the gun, cocking it back while his glare burned through Max like fire.
"First you sleep with my wife at a hotel, then you have the guts to come to my house to do the same?" Carl asked, his brows drawn tight with rage.
His words made Mia’s eyes widen with shock, trembling as she stood rooted to the spot.
"What? Surprised?" Carl sneered. "I knew all along. Every single one of your visits to the red-light district, how many guys you dragged into a hotel, every filthy little secret, I knew them.
But this..." He raised the gun sharply toward her, his voice cracking with venom. "This is the final straw. How dare you invite a prostitute into my house?!"
"Is that why you decided to beat her up this much?" Max’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Carl’s eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"
"I asked if that was why you beat her so badly." Max’s tone hardened, his gaze fixed on Mia’s bruised face.
"I’m not saying what she did was right or wrong, but there’s a way to deal with things without turning her into a punching bag. For you to damage her means you’ve been doing it for a long time."
Carl smirked, his teeth flashing. "That is what real men do. We keep our wives in check with our hands. Those that are too stubborn..."
"Real men or cowards?" Max cut him off sharply. His voice was steady, unflinching. "If being a real man means beating your woman into submission, then I’ll happily be a weakling.
If you truly are a man," Max’s eyes glowed faintly as he shifted his weight, extending his hand forward in a beckoning stance, "then come at me. Let’s settle this man to man."
Carl chuckled bitterly. "No thanks. I’m not interested." He raised the gun, his finger curling on the trigger.
"Fine then," Max said coldly, a smirk dancing at the corner of his lips. "Shoot your gun and keep hiding behind it while you play leader of your little gang, princess."
That word was the spark. Veins popped across Carl’s forehead as fury overtook his face.
"I will destroy you!" Carl roared, tossing his gun across the marble floor with a metallic clatter before charging at Max like a raging bull.
’Magical energy,’ Max commanded inwardly.
{Magical energy activated}
{Magical energy lv 1 (requires 10 MP): This skill strengthens the host’s attacks and boosts combat speed. Strength and speed increase by 20%. Skill cooldown: ten minutes.}
The moment the ability surged through him, Max felt his muscles twitch and tighten, his blood rushing with newfound vigor. His eyes locked on Carl’s movements as the mafia boss lunged, closing the distance in seconds.
Carl’s fist shot forward, aiming straight for Max’s face. But Max ducked smoothly, the punch slicing through the air above him. Without hesitation, he twisted his hips and drove a powerful hook into Carl’s side.
The impact was brutal. Carl staggered back several feet, coughing out saliva as his breath escaped in sharp gasps.
"And you call yourself a real man," Max spat, his voice carrying disdain as he bolted forward. In the blink of an eye, he was on Carl again, his speed a blur. He threw a sharp, lightning-fast jab toward Carl’s jaw.
This time, however, the mafia boss reacted in time. His hand shot up, gripping Max’s fist tightly, the veins in his arms bulging as he caught the blow mid-strike.
A kick flew toward Damian’s abdomen, landing squarely and forcing him to curl forward. In that instant, an uppercut slammed into his jaw, sending him skidding back a few inches.
’Right! I have no damn fighting experience,’ Max thought in panic as he saw Carl dashing toward him, a quick hook aimed for his neck.
Max leaned sideways, narrowly avoiding the punch, and tried to deliver one of his own. But Carl was fast—he sidestepped smoothly, avoiding it with ease, then swung his leg forward. Max reacted in time, grabbing the leg mid-swing and smashing his elbow into it.
"Argh!" Carl cried out, tumbling backward from the impact.
Mia stood frozen at the sidelines, her expression twisted with confusion. She didn’t know who to support as she watched the two men exchange blows. Each strike echoed through the room, and her heart pounded in her chest.
’Wait! Why is Damian even fighting for me in the first place?’
"I will kill you!" Carl roared, shaking off the pain in his leg before dashing forward with every ounce of speed he could muster.
He leapt into the air and unleashed a roundhouse kick to Max’s neck. The strike connected with a sickening thud, making Max grunt as he tumbled back in sharp, burning pain.
’Guess Dragons really do have insane endurance, huh,’ he thought bitterly as Carl blitzed forward again, his fist rocketing toward Max’s face.
But this time, Max didn’t flinch. His hand shot up and calmly caught the punch in his palm, stopping it dead in its tracks without moving an inch.
"Being a man doesn’t mean beating your woman bloody," Max said, his voice deep and steady as he tightened his grip around Carl’s fist. "Women aren’t objects or punching bags. They have feelings, emotions, and dignity.
They’re human beings. Just because you’re the boss of some mafia gang doesn’t mean you get to come home and treat your wife like trash. If you had lasted longer and satisfied her, she wouldn’t have gone looking for it on the streets. So technically..."
His grip tightened further, bones audibly cracking under the pressure.
"...you are at fault."
Max’s fist drove deep into Carl’s gut, the punch so powerful that Carl’s body convulsed.
Blood and saliva burst from his mouth as he was launched across the room, slamming into the wall with a bone-jarring crash. His limp body slid down and landed beside a table, motionless for a moment.
Mia, who had listened to every word Damian spoke, had tears welling in her eyes. Her lips trembled as she stared at him, whispering brokenly, "Da... Damian..."
A notification suddenly flashed before his eyes.
Max blinked in shock. Before he could even process what had just happened, regret already gnawed at him. His actions, his words—they had shifted the flow of events entirely.
Carl’s hand twitched as he pressed a red button on top of the table, and a loud buzzing sound filled the air.
The huge double doors of the mansion creaked open.
Max didn’t need anyone to explain what was about to happen. His Dragon Eyes revealed it all clearly.
The fifty auras he had counted earlier were now on the move, every one of them rushing toward the house. His throat went dry, and he swallowed hard.