After using the shoes twice, Abel discovered their limitation: one activation at level three, or three activations at level one.
He had just used the highest setting, and after three kicks, the battery was drained.
His original plan had been to take down three men… but reality forced a change.
"I'll have to practice my footwork," he thought, "and start training my left leg."
With that decision made, Abel charged toward the remaining two attackers.
When he was five or six meters away, he spotted a small stone on the ground. Abel swung his leg as if to kick it.
The two homeless men flinched immediately.
They had seen what happened to their companions. No one wanted to be next.
They raised their arms protectively and scrambled away, trying to dodge imaginary projectiles.
Exactly what Abel wanted.
Using the opening, he closed the gap with one of them. Boosted by the shoes' speed, he leaped forward.
His left foot shot out, delivering a flying kick straight into the man's stomach.
Three bars of power.
"—BBLUUUGH!"
The man crumpled, clutching his abdomen, then vomited violently — likely spewing out meals from the last two days.
"If you don't want to end up like them, get lost."
Abel landed and fixed the last vagrant with a cold, deadly stare.
The remaining homeless man bolted instantly.
Seeing this, Abel finally exhaled.
His strength-enhancing shoes were completely drained. If the man hadn't fled, Abel would have been forced to use a [Banana Grenade] — which would certainly cause an explosion, chaos, attention, and consequences beyond his control.
Fortunately, that crisis passed.
Abel quickly hoisted the unconscious Law onto his back and ran.
Somewhere along the way, the coarse cloth Law had used to cover his face had fallen off.
As they fled, they passed by the long-haired vagrant Abel had knocked down earlier. Now regaining consciousness, he stared at them with venomous eyes.
Abel noticed — and cold hostility flashed in his own.
He knew this wouldn't end quietly, but didn't stop.
…
A while later, the vagrant who had run earlier really did return — with reinforcements.
"Useless trash! Getting beaten by a brat, one of you running away scared, another fainting… useless, the lot of you!"
A bald vagrant with a fierce face shouted at them as soon as he arrived.
The group hung their heads, looking miserable and humiliated.
Before he could continue his tirade, the long-haired vagrant — still shaken — spoke up.
"Those two kids are suspicious."
"What, making excuses now?" the bald man sneered.
Despite being berated, the long-haired vagrant persisted. "The kid in the hat… he had white patches on his face. I think they're survivors from Flevance!"
"What did you just say?!"
The bald vagrant stiffened.
The others went pale.
Thanks to the World Government's propaganda, Amber Lead disease was treated like an incurable, highly infectious plague. Surrounding nations had joined together to annihilate Flevance because of it.
So hearing a survivor might be nearby naturally caused panic.
"No mistake. I've seen that disease before. Their skin looks exactly like that."
The long-haired vagrant didn't care if this claim proved wrong later. He wanted those two dead.
The more serious the rumor, the better — and he was confident the ambitious bald man wouldn't miss a chance.
"What do we do, boss? I—I came in contact with that kid… will I get infected?"
"Then stay away from me, idiot!"
"Boss, let's run. I don't feel so good…"
"Shut up, you fools!"
The bald man's face twisted in irritation — then suddenly, he started laughing coldly.
"Listen up. Those two are definitely — no — they must be Flevance survivors."
The others stared, confused.
The bald vagrant cursed inwardly and spelled it out:
"This is a premeditated terrorist attack. Survivors from Flevance are trying to take revenge on the nation that destroyed them by spreading a terrible disease. Those two kids are part of it."
"But — we discovered their plot."
"We uncovered infected fugitives first."
"So what will the authorities give us for this? Money? A house? Women? Maybe everything!"
"The chance to change your fate is right in front of you. Are you going to back down?!"
His words were infectious.
Fear turned to greed. The faces around him shifted from panic to hunger.
Between an invisible disease and a visible reward, the choice was easy.
They also reasoned: if the disease were truly that contagious, wouldn't the soldiers who destroyed Flevance be infected already?
So they just needed to avoid physical contact.
The bald man seized the moment.
"You two — go get Captain Jess. If you need to, drop a hint, but keep your mouths shut until we have him."
"Got it."
"Don't worry, boss!"
Captain Jess was the local security chief — the highest authority they could realistically approach.
Given their low status, even if they delivered the greatest credit imaginable, higher-ups would only swallow it whole.
Better to hand it over and get rewarded than choke on it.
When powerful people feasted, they could at least drink soup.
To be fair, the bald vagrant was much sharper than he looked. He knew how to leverage opportunity instead of hoarding it.
The long-haired vagrant who started all of this also got excited. He hadn't thought beyond killing those kids — but now, the idea of profit lit a fire in his greedy eyes.