Sirens still cut through the early morning.
Fire trucks lit up the forest with red and blue lights. Thick columns of smoke rose, mixed with the smell of charred wood… and something else, something metallic that no one wanted to name.
"Agent," one of the officers said in a low voice. "We found traces of human skin. And blood. But no complete body."
The lead agent rubbed his face.
"Human skin?"
The officer nodded.
"Yes, sir. Doesn't look like animal."
Heavy silence.
"Keep searching. Call the detectives and the coroner. I want to know exactly what the hell happened here."
A few meters away, another officer lifted something from the ground with tweezers.
"Agent… look at this."
It was a scorched mark on the dirt. A crude drawing, made with fire.
A smiling clown.
The agent raised an eyebrow.
"What the hell…? A clown?"
"This…" another intervened, "looks like the case of the abandoned warehouse."
The atmosphere tensed.
"The one with the gang massacre?"
"Yes. Same level of violence. Same strange symbolism."
The agent crossed his arms, uncomfortable.
"A mentally ill person obsessed with clowns? First massacres a gang, now burns a forest?"
"Maybe," said the detective. "But something doesn't add up."
The coroner knelt beside an evidence bag.
"The skin is human," he confirmed. "But it's… altered. It shouldn't peel off like this. And there are signs of internal combustion. Not just external fire."
The detective exchanged a look with the agent.
"Weapons?"
"No normal casings found. And the blood…" he paused, "doesn't belong to a single person."
Silence.
"So it wasn't a regular fight," the agent muttered. "And it wasn't an accident."
The detective stared at the blackened clown symbol on the ground.
"It's not a gang," he said finally. "It's someone acting alone. And they're escalating."
In my room.
"Shit…" I whisper.
It hurts.
It hurts too much.
Every breath is punishment. My ribs protest. My whole body burns.
I need to learn real combat.
Self-defense.
Boxing.
Karate.
Anything.
Magic isn't enough when the enemy doesn't fear death.
I force myself to calm down and use healing magic.
The wounds close… but the pain stays.
"Tch…"
It lacks refinement. It lacks control.
I sigh, frustrated with myself.
The phone rings.
Please… don't let it be that clown.
"Ryan, how are you?"
I clench my fist until blood runs down my palm.
I clench my jaw.
—Click—
Great. Just what I needed.
"Calm down," he says. "Breathe. Have you calmed down yet…?"
He laughs.
"I saw your fight. Your first battle against a supernatural entity."
I close my eyes tightly.
"Not bad," he continues. "Though I expected more from you."
Silence.
"Do you know what it feels like to almost die because of lack of experience?" he asks. "It's desperate, isn't it?"
He laughs again.
I bite my lower lip.
"What do you want?" I growl.
"Nothing. Just to mock you for a while."
The call ends.
I inhale deeply. Exhale slowly.
But it's not enough.
I scream.
My aura explodes and spreads through the room.
—CRASH!
The window shatters.
Then another.
In the entire neighborhood, glass explodes.
I stop abruptly.
Silence returns.
"Shit…"
The room is full of cracks.
The whole neighborhood is in shock.
Later.
I'm still in pain. My ribs haven't fully healed.
I need to prepare.
Training. That will be the focus from now on.
And that organization… or whatever it is.
I have to be more careful.
Or more brutal.
The entity backing them must already know what happened. The disappearance of the skinless one won't go unnoticed.
I think.
I don't have enough information for a clear conclusion.
This county… and the neighboring one.
It's clear they operate here.
The last words of that guy were: "We operate in…"
And nothing more.
If I clean these two counties, they'll move to others.
Territory?
Conflicts between entities?
Too many questions.
But now there's something more urgent.
Tomorrow is the weekend.
I have seven targets to watch.
Madison.
Chloe.
Vivian.
Sarra.
Brittany.
Susan.
Deysi.
And Ana… in the other county.
I exhale.
I can't split myself.
I can only move forward…
and make fewer mistakes.