“You—you hit me?! That’s police brutality!”

  “Help! Somebody! They’re abusing their authority!”

  Ethan calmly lifted a finger.

  A thin, needle-like blood spike slid out into the air.

  “It’s small,” he said evenly. “Not lethal. Won’t knock you out. Relax.”

  Then the spike slipped into Mark Dalton’s arm—right under the skin.

  There was a special kind of pain people never forgot: the pain of a skin test.

  A thin needle goes in… then twists. Slowly. Deliberately.

  Mark understood instantly.

  “AAAAAAAH—!!!”

  The scream that ripped out of him sounded like slaughterhouse panic.

  “I don’t know—I swear I don’t know!”

  Ethan tilted his head. “Did I ask you anything?”

  The blood spike turned again, just a fraction.

  Even the officers watching through the glass felt their spines crawl.

  Since when did Unit 749’s probationary investigators work like this?

  “STOP—STOP! I’LL TALK! I’LL TALK—JUST STOP!”

  Ethan’s gaze didn’t change. “Now I don’t feel like listening.”

  …

  A while later, Ethan drew the spike back into himself and looked down at Mark slumped in the chair, paper-white and drenched in sweat.

  “I’m going to step out and have some tea,” Ethan said casually. “When you’re ready to confess, you can confess. You’ve got three hours left before the twenty-four-hour limit. Take your time.”

  He opened the door and walked out.

  Outside, Tessa Blake couldn’t help raising a thumb. “Beautiful. Honestly… iconic.”

  Ethan’s mouth twitched. “Calling me ‘Boss’ wouldn’t kill you.”

  “Nope,” Tessa said instantly. “Mission just started. Winner’s not decided yet.”

  Not long after, the local captain—Captain Reed—came over.

  “He folded. Gave us everything,” Reed said, jaw tight. “They meet every Friday night at a hotel. Mark delivers the girl he lures in, and the buyer pays him.”

  “Selling women for cash to a demon,” Tessa snapped. “What a piece of trash.”

  “Tomorrow’s Friday,” Ethan said. “Have him keep messaging the buyer like nothing’s wrong. We’ll go to the hotel and meet our friend.”

  —

  Friday. Cold rain.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Ethan and Tessa stood beneath a black umbrella at the edge of a wet roadway. Across the street, a hotel loomed—windows glowing behind sheets of rain.

  That was the drop point.

  Whoever was waiting inside had already checked in. If the night played out normally, another young woman would be found drained and dead by morning.

  But tonight, the delivery wasn’t a victim.

  It was Ethan and Tessa.

  “Tess,” Ethan said as they crossed, “you play the part—young, pretty, harmless. Get him to open the door. Once we’re inside, we bury him.”

  Tessa shot him a look. “Do not call me ‘Tess’ like I’m fifty.”

  “Fine,” Ethan said, deadpan. “Move.”

  They entered the lobby, rode the elevator to the tenth floor, and walked down a soft-carpet hallway to Room 1009.

  Ethan leaned the umbrella against the wall.

  Tessa knocked.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  After a few seconds, the door opened.

  A greasy, bald man filled the frame. The moment he saw Tessa, his eyes practically fell out of his skull.

  “Well damn—this one’s a premium model,” he said, grinning. “Come in, come in!”

  Tessa stepped inside.

  Ethan followed right behind her and shut the door with a soft click.

  The bald man’s grin vanished as he looked Ethan up and down.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  Ethan replied calmly. “Her brother.”

  Then he kicked.

  One clean front kick to the chest—hard enough to send the man flying back two meters, crashing into furniture.

  Ethan walked in like he was entering his own apartment, dropped into the plush sofa, and crossed one ankle over the other.

  “Go ahead,” he said to Tessa. “Ladies first.”

  Their little wager started now.

  Whoever killed the target first got the authority to call themselves “leader” back at Room 304.

  Tessa rolled her neck, grinning like she’d been waiting for this.

  “Then I won’t hold back.”

  The next second—

  Electricity erupted across her skin.

  Thunder God Line, Sequence 005 — Fivefold Lightning Rite.

  She became a walking storm.

  The ceiling lights popped and died. Appliances crackled and sparked. The TV screen shattered with a sharp electrical snap.

  Ten seconds later, Tessa stopped—breathing hard, hair standing on end.

  On the carpet, the bald man was charred black, faint smoke curling off his body like overcooked meat.

  Tessa dusted her hands with smug satisfaction. “Done. Looks like I’m the boss of 304. No objections, Ethan?”

  Ethan gave a small nod, genuinely impressed. She’s strong. Genius-level, probably.

  Then—

  A voice hissed behind them, packed with venom.

  “You two… really think you can ignore me… huh?!”

  The bald man stood up slowly.

  His eyes were flooded with red veins. His body jerked unnaturally, spasming like something was squirming under the skin.

  Tessa’s pupils contracted. “That’s impossible…”

  SPLASH—!!!

  The man’s head burst open.

  A massive blood-red leech tore out of his body, unfolding like a nightmare.

  When a demon fully revealed itself, the Bureau’s super-AI would label it based on appearance and energy fluctuation.

  lv24 — Bloodfeast Leechspawn.

  Every ten levels marked a rank.

  This was Rank Two.

  It was higher than both of them.

  “Move!” Ethan snapped.

  In a flash, he yanked Tessa back onto the sofa and stepped in front.

  “Die!” the leechspawn roared—speaking with a human voice, dripping arrogance.

  A tentacle shot forward and speared into Ethan’s chest.

  Then it began to drink.

  “Tessa—” Ethan’s breath caught.

  The leechspawn laughed wildly. “I don’t care if you’re Unit 749 or the damn army—come for me and you don’t walk out!”

  Tessa’s face went pale. The situation had flipped—fast.

  Then the leechspawn froze.

  “—What… what is this?” it rasped. “My body… I can’t move—?!”

  Inside it, every vessel felt sealed shut. Its limbs lost blood supply in an instant, going dead like power cut from a machine.

  Ethan’s eyes turned colder.

  He grabbed the tentacle and ripped it out of his chest with raw force.

  Someone dared to drink his blood.

  Interesting.

  Tessa stared at him in shock. “Ethan—how are you not collapsing? It took so much!”

  Ethan didn’t answer. He tossed the black umbrella at her.

  “Open it.”

  She blinked. “Open—why?!”

  “Do it.”

  “…Fine.” She snapped it open.

  Ethan faced the writhing leechspawn and smiled faintly.

  Snap—

  A crisp finger-snap, almost gentle.

  BOOM.

  Inside the creature, dozens—hundreds—of blood vessels ruptured at once.

  It exploded into a thick red mist, like a watermelon bursting under pressure. Blood sprayed across the room in an instant.

  Because Tessa held the umbrella, it blocked most of the gore-rain. She wiped her face and finally understood why Ethan had ordered it.

  As for Ethan—

  The flying droplets stopped midair around him, suspended by invisible force. Not a single drop touched his clothes.

  They swirled, gathered into his palm, and hardened into a blood-blade.

  SHNK.

  Ethan drove it through the demon’s body and leaned in, voice low and sharp with contempt.

  “You really tried to act tough with me?”