The lieutenant didn't hesitate. With a roar, he launched two blazing fire punches in rapid succession. Cain reacted quickly, dodging the first attack, but the second punch struck his shoulder.
To Cain's shock, the flames vanished once again. This time, however, he caught a faint glimmer of dark-green energy swirling around the fire before it dissolved entirely.
Cain immediately turned his attention inward. Sure enough, his second totem was active, pulsing faintly with energy, almost as if it were alive.
But just as suddenly as it had awakened, the totem's glow faded, and it returned to dormancy.
Cain's thoughts raced. He was starting to piece together the nature of his powers, though the full picture eluded him.
But there was no time for reflection—the lieutenant's third attack was already coming.
Frustrated by his failed fire punches, the lieutenant closed the distance, choosing close combat instead.
For Cain, this was the real challenge. His past fights were nothing more than scraps compared to this—the strength, speed, and intent behind the lieutenant's blows were on a different level entirely.
The lieutenant's flaming fist swung toward Cain's face. Cain ducked in time, but the second strike slammed into his abdomen. The impact burned through his shirt, leaving his skin blistered and raw.
Cain stumbled back, gasping. Pain surged through him, and he realized for the first time the disadvantage of having no formal training.
The lieutenant grinned viciously, sensing victory.
"Not so tough now, huh? You think you can challenge my boss with this pathetic strength?"
With a triumphant laugh, he pressed the attack. Blow after blow rained down on Cain, each hit forcing him further into a corner. Finally, the lieutenant ended the flurry with a savage kick, sending Cain crashing into a pile of garbage bins.
Cain struggled to rise, his body screaming in protest. But then, Dante's voice surged through his mind like a storm.
"Cain! Let me take over! I'll rip him apart! I'll make him bleed!"
The bloodlust in Dante's voice was overwhelming, his excitement bordering on madness. Cain gritted his teeth and shook his head, refusing to give in. Something about Dante's desperation felt wrong.
Slowly, Cain pushed himself to his feet, swaying but defiant.
The lieutenant paused, raising an eyebrow. For the first time, a flicker of respect crossed his face.
"Hmph. You've got guts, I'll give you that. But guts alone won't save you."
Cain didn't reply. He closed his eyes briefly, focusing inward. He reached out to his primary totem, willing himself into a state of absolute concentration.
The totem stirred, glowing faintly with a prismatic light. Cain could feel energy coursing through him—not much, but enough to hold his ground.
The lieutenant roared and charged again, his right fist blazing with intense fire. This time, he poured everything into the attack, his flames roaring hotter than ever.
"You're done, kid!" he bellowed.
Cain stood his ground, his focus unbroken.
His mind was consumed by a single thought: defeat the opponent.
The most effective way to deal with a fire-type evolver was either to exploit a countering element or match it with an equal flame. However, Cain didn't dwell on these specifics. His focus wasn't on strategies or attributes—it was entirely locked on one goal: victory.
Just as the lieutenant's fiery punch was about to land, a pitch-black metal cube appeared from nowhere.
BOOM!
The cube crashed into the lieutenant with immense force, pinning him to the ground. Bones cracked audibly, and his flames extinguished instantly.
The lieutenant let out a single, strangled scream before falling unconscious, his body completely immobilized beneath the cube.
This was exactly what Cain wanted—to defeat his opponent.
Simple. Brutal. Effective. It aligned perfectly with his way of thinking.
"Did… did I cause this?" Cain muttered, staring at the mysterious pitch-black cube in disbelief.
Then he glanced around the alley, half-expecting someone to step out of the shadows. But there was no one. So, there is only one possibility.
He turning inward again, examined his primary totem. Its progress circle, which had been at 50%, had now dropped sharply to 20%.
Cain exhaled slowly, pieces of understanding clicking into place.
"My totem power… it might be connected to my will. My focus," he murmured, uncertainty lingering in his voice.
With the lieutenant defeated and the thugs incapacitated, Cain stood alone in the alley. Victory had come at a cost. His body ached, and his strength reserves—whatever they were—felt significantly drained.
Inside the underground bar, Billy grew impatient. By now, his lieutenant should have brought Cain in.
"Go check the alley," Billy growled at one of his men.
The thug hesitated but obeyed, cracking the back door open to peek outside. What he saw made his blood run cold.
He slammed the door shut, fumbling with his earpiece.
"Boss! It's bad—he's taken out the lieutenant and the others! They're all down!"
Billy's expression darkened, his knuckles cracking as he flexed his fingers.
"What?! Useless trash. Is he still out there?"
"Yes, boss!"
Billy grabbed his massive battle axe, its wicked edge gleaming under the dim light.
"Stay here. I'll handle this myself," he said, striding toward the back door with a handful of his top enforcers.
Cain was deep in thought in the alley, trying to formulate a strategy. The remaining 20% of his totem power was an enigma—its capabilities unknown. The mysterious pitch-black cube had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, confirming one undeniable truth: whatever his powers could achieve, they were only temporary.
Just then, the back door burst open with a powerful kick.
Billy of the Red Skulls stepped into the alley, his massive frame casting a shadow over Cain. The battle axe rested easily on his shoulder, and his eyes glinted with cold malice.
"Well, well. Looks like you've been busy," Billy sneered.
Cain's focus returned to the present. At this close range, he could now sense Billy's evolution metrics. While not perfectly clear, it was evident that Billy was an E-Tier Level 2 somewhere between 51 and 100 metrics—a level that was already on par with Cain's.
Cain tightened his fists, feeling his muscles tense.
The real challenge was about to begin.