Derent exchanged heavy blows with James, his steel shield absorbing punch after punch. Yet his mind was elsewhere.
We need Kollren. And who is that red-eyed man? He's not from the Three Families Union… I've never even heard of him.
His gaze briefly shifted toward Vaelor, who was tearing through riflemen like a storm.
Where is Kollren? he wondered.
Earlier, Kollren had said he was "dealing with unwanted guests."
The shield kept clashing against James's fists, the metallic impact slowing James down. Every time James tried to close in fully, Derent angled the shield perfectly, disrupting his rhythm.
Meanwhile, Vaelor had already taken down three riflemen. Only one rifleman and Goffey remained standing on that side. Caeson and Junwell had also neutralized one opponent each. The situation was turning disastrous for the Senate division.
But now Goffey finally had space.
He planted his feet and began firing relentlessly. Shot. Reload. Shot. Reload. Even in close quarters, his precision was frightening.
Vaelor dodged, twisting and shifting at impossible angles. Still, the confined room made it harder. A bullet grazed past his shoulder. Another shattered wood near his head.
Caeson and Junwell instinctively slipped back into the washroom.
Caeson snapped, "Why are we back in here again?"
Junwell blinked. "This time, I didn't pull you."
Caeson hesitated. "Well… it does look dangerous out there. But what the hell is with that red-eyed guy? He's literally dodging sniper shots. How is he even doing that?"
Outside, Goffey kept aiming at Vaelor, carefully tracking his movements. The remaining rifleman hesitated, unsure when to fire without hitting Derent.
Vaelor realized he couldn't dodge forever.
He slid toward the side of a heavy table, forcing Goffey to adjust his angle. Goffey lined up the shot again. The rifleman saw an opening and fired—
"Stop!" Goffey shouted.
Too late.
The bullet streaked across the room toward Derent.
For a split second, it looked fatal. But Derent reacted instantly, raising his steel shield. The bullet slammed into it with a violent clang.
A close call.
"Watch your fire!" Derent roared.
That brief distraction was enough—James landed a clean strike across Derent's jaw. Blood touched the corner of Derent's mouth.
They resumed fighting immediately.
Vaelor's eyes locked onto the shield. He moved.
In a blur, he stepped into Derent's range and, with shocking strength, tore the steel shield straight out of Derent's grip.
Derent froze.
How did he take that from my hand so easily?
James didn't waste the moment. Without the shield, his next punch connected fully with Derent's face. Blood spilled more clearly now.
Derent laughed—low and unhinged.
"Good," he said. "Now I can fight completely."
Inside the washroom, through the slight crack in the door, Caeson whispered, "What does he mean—he wasn't fighting seriously?"
Junwell answered quietly, "The Third Division executive said Derent specializes in hand-to-hand combat. I think he was holding back because of the shield."
Back in the room, Derent's aura shifted. He hurled a heavy table at James in a sudden burst of strength. James braced and blocked, skidding backward.
On the other side, Vaelor now used the stolen shield to charge the last rifleman, smashing him down. Then he advanced toward Goffey.
Goffey was in trouble.
The shield ruined his shooting angle. Every time he aimed, Vaelor angled the steel plate to block the line of fire. Goffey stepped backward… slowly… carefully… until he was almost at the staircase.
Junwell and Caeson emerged from the washroom again.
James glanced at them mid-fight. "What? Not afraid anymore?"
Caeson smirked. "Aren't you from Arcane? Don't you have some superpower?"
James scoffed. "That's different."
The three of them converged on Derent at once.
Even for a fighter like him, three skilled opponents were too much. His movements grew heavier. His counters slower.
He was starting to lose.
At the staircase, Goffey continued stepping backward, panic creeping into his breathing. Vaelor kept walking forward steadily, shield in hand, eyes locked.
It was almost over.
Then—A calm presence emerged from the stairs.
A man with striking red hair and a sharp yellow outfit stepped up with controlled composure. His hands were clasped behind his back as if he were strolling through a garden rather than entering a battlefield.
He positioned himself in front of Goffey, shielding him, and faced Vaelor directly.
Vaelor stopped. "Who are you?"
The red-haired man smiled faintly. "Kollren."