Chapter 7: City of Predators
The city's neon reflections glistened on wet asphalt, each puddle a distorted mirror of its chaos. Alex Romano moved through the streets silently, coat collar high, hood over his curls. Pier 39's encounter had left him alert, senses sharpened, cheat ability two still humming beneath the surface. Somewhere, a presence observed him—measuring, calculating.
A black envelope slid under his apartment door. He picked it up:
"Dock 17. Midnight. Alone."
No name. No signature. Only danger.
By the time he reached Dock 17, fog rolled thick from the water, obscuring crates stacked like tombstones. Figures emerged from the mist—three human-shaped auras, one deep crimson, one dark violet, one silver. Enhanced operatives. They circled him with predator precision.
Alex's muscles tensed, cheat ability two flaring subtly, reflexes heightened. Each step, each shadow was data. The first attacker lunged with violent speed. Alex sidestepped, letting the attacker slam into a crate, splintered wood cutting flesh. Blood sprayed, a metallic scent filling the fog.
The second struck from the side, aura compressing, air seeming heavier. Alex twisted, palm meeting jaw in a sharp counter. Bone cracked. The silver-aura elite faltered, stumbling back, staggering in shock.
The last one, dark violet, circled silently. Mental pressure pressed at Alex's perception, whispers of disorientation threading through his mind. His third cheat stirred faintly, sensing intent, detecting subtle patterns invisible to the eye.
Step. Pivot. Strike. Retreat. Each movement a calculation, a dance. Momentum redirected. Precision lethal if necessary. The crimson and silver attackers fell in quick succession, unconscious, groaning, bleeding.
The dark-violet elite hesitated. Alex seized the moment, activating subtle cheat energy, countering the manipulative aura. The elite staggered, eyes wide, lips parted in surprise.
Outside, fog curled over the dock like smoke. Blood glistened in puddles. The attack had been brutal but measured—Alex didn't kill unnecessarily, yet dominance had been established.
From the shadows, a figure watched silently, hooded and distant. Alex sensed it but ignored the curiosity. Tonight wasn't about observation—it was about survival, control, and testing limits.
He turned back toward the city streets. The neon glow reflected off wet asphalt, the urban pulse vibrating beneath his feet. Allies, enemies, observers—all watched, all calculated. And Alex knew one truth: in this city, the hunt never ended.
The dock lay empty, fog shifting. The city whispered secrets to those who listened, and Alex Romano had learned to hear them all.