That was close.

  Michael's heart pounded wildly, a layer of cold sweat breaking out on his back, clinging to his clothes with an icy sting.

  He had dodged fast enough, but the shockwave stirred up by the Rhino Man's charge still scraped painfully against his cheek, and a few strands of hair were ripped out completely, fluttering to the ground.

  If he had been half a second slower, it would have been his bones shattered now, perhaps not even a complete corpse left behind.

  No more dodging.

  Just as Michael was forced into a corner, every muscle in his body tensed to its limit, even his breathing becoming labored, a voice, ancient and tinged with savagery, exploded in his mind without warning.

  The voice carried a hint of amusement, a touch of languor, as if observing a drowning prey, yet also like waiting for a long-fated answer:

  [Can't hold on anymore? Need power?]

  Michael froze.

  This was yet another time he heard the voice lurking within his body with such clarity.

  It was abrupt, unfamiliar, yet carried a palpitation-inducing sense of familiarity, as if this voice had always been a part of him, just slumbering for too long and now finally awakening.

  Before he could respond, the voice sounded again, leaving no room for doubt, like offering a deal impossible to refuse:

  [Want it? Then nod. Remember, I only give you power—the knack for fighting? That, I don't have.]

  Without a moment's hesitation, Michael nodded frantically in his mind.

  He knew perfectly well that with his current abilities, he stood no chance against the Rhino Man.

  Even fighting with everything he had would only be a futile death.

  He didn't want to die, at least, not here.

  "I need power!" Michael roared in his heart.

  The next second, a surge of scalding power erupted violently from the vine mark on his chest, like a volcanic explosion, coursing through his blood vessels to every limb and joint.

  This power was even more overwhelming than he imagined, carrying a scorching heat that felt like it would burn through his body.

  His bones emitted crisp, sickening cracksounds.

  His shoulders swelled slightly, muscles beneath the skin wriggling frantically, as if something was churning inside.

  Michael's pupils were instantly swallowed by silver, the original black irises shrinking to a tiny dot.

  Sharp claws extended from his fingertips, gleaming with a cold luster.

  The corners of his mouth split, revealing stark white fangs that promised lethal threat.

  Black wolf fur sprouted from beneath his skin, first covering the backs of his hands and his cheeks, then rapidly spreading, soon covering over half his body.

  This time, he did not lose consciousness.

  Although his vision was tinged with a faint bloody hue, and a thirst for blood burned in his throat like an unquenchable flame, his mind was clear.

  He knew who he was, what he had to do, and that the Rhino Man before him was the enemy he must defeat.

  But the price was, despite possessing this surging power, he had no combat skills whatsoever.

  He didn't even know how to wield these sharp claws, how to utilize this speed far beyond a normal human's, or how to use the changes in his body to attack the enemy.

  He could only rely on the beast's instinct to swipe, dodge, and bite.

  "A transformation?!"

  Seeing Michael's change, the Rhino Man was stunned for a moment, then let out an even more excited roar, the sound forcing surrounding Black Bone Gang members to cover their ears.

  "Interesting! Perfect, now it's fair! Today, let me properly enjoy a fair fight!"

  He charged again, swinging his thick arm with overwhelming force, aiming a devastating punch straight at Michael's head.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  This punch carried his full strength, clearly intending to end it in one blow.

  Michael sidestepped, simultaneously swiping with his claws.

  The sharp claws whistled through the air, aiming to slice the Rhino Man's arm.

  His movements were stiff, completely without technique, just an instinctive counter-attack.

  Clang—!

  The claws struck the Rhino Man's arm, only producing a shower of sparks, not even breaking the skin.

  That tough hide was like a thick slab of steel plate, completely nullifying his attack.

  Michael's heart sank.

  A wave of despair instantly washed over him.

  He could clearly feel the opponent's power far surpassing his own—he had nearly used his full strength in that swipe, yet against the Rhino Man's hardened skin, it meant nothing.

  And every attack from the Rhino Man carried a force Michael could hardly withstand.

  Even a glancing blow sent waves of intense pain through his body.

  "Hahaha! Useless! My skin is harder than steel!"

  The Rhino Man laughed wildly, his laughter full of disdain and cruelty.

  "Your little strength is just tickling me!"

  No sooner had he spoken than he threw a backhand punch, landing solidly on Michael's chest.

  It felt like a massive boulder had smashed into his chest. Michael's organs seemed displaced.

  A sweet taste surged in his throat as he nearly spat out a mouthful of blood.

  His body flew backwards like a kite with its string cut, slamming hard into the wall with a dull thud.

  Cement chunks shook loose from the wall, falling on him, adding wave after wave of pain.

  Struggling to get up, the wounds on his back burned fiercely.

  His wolf fur was stained red with blood, sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

  His breathing became ragged; each breath sent tearing pain through his chest—clearly internal injuries.

  Inferior in combat skill, weaker in power, even his proud claws couldn't breach the defense.

  With losses piling up and no gains, he was completely in a crushed, disadvantaged position, with no chance of winning whatsoever.

  The Rhino Man approached step by step, heavy footfalls pounding the ground with a thump-thumpsound, hammering at Michael's nerves.

  His eyes were full of cruelty, a bloodthirsty smile curling at the corner of his mouth:

  "It's over! The game should end now!"

  He lowered his head, pointing that thick rhinoceros horn at Michael's chest.

  The tip of the horn gleamed coldly, mere steps away from his heart.

  Then, with a fierce lunge, he charged straight at Michael—

  At that moment, a woman in a black trench coat stood on a distant iron shed.

  The hem of her coat fluttered in the wind.

  She wore a pair of red high heels, the heels clicking crisply against the iron sheets.

  Her face was expressionless.

  Standing in the shadows, her gaze was calm as she watched the fight in the alley, as if appreciating an interesting performance, or perhaps evaluating something.

  She just watched quietly, watching Michael being overpowered, watching him struggle in a hopeless situation.

  There was not a trace of pity in her eyes. It was Elena.

  And in another shadowy corner, a furtive figure was hiding at the turn of a tin shack, pressing his body tightly against the wall, terrified of being seen.

  He clutched a bulging kraft paper bag in his hand, the opening tied with string.

  Inside was the drugs he was trading with the Black Bone Gang.

  It was Kurt.

  He had come tonight to do a deal with the Black Bone Gang—helping them obtain a batch of expired anesthetics from Tengman Company, to be resold as contraband on the black market, making a dirty profit from the price difference.