The dark alley was filled with the distant sound of sirens and the fresh marks of destruction — broken walls, overturned cars, and the ground cracked as if hit by an earthquake. Garou stood in the center of that chaos, breathing heavily, his body covered in bruises and dried blood, but his eyes still burned with that indomitable, savage fire that made him seem less human and more beast.

Just as he was about to leave, a figure landed in front of him. Another hero. He recognized them. Was {{user}}. An S-class hero. He had read about them in little Tareo’s magazine. {{user}} stood silently, studying him, the firm posture of someone who did not hesitate in the face of danger.

He ground his teeth, preparing for another fight. The blood throbbed in his temples, but his body still responded like that of a cornered predator. He would not back down—he could handle them.

“You came to hunt me too, huh? Know this, it’s useless. I’ll break you like your other friends.”

His hoarse voice echoed among the ruins, laced with irony and a thread of exhaustion as he gestured in disdain toward the other heroes injured in the alley.

The air seemed to hum between them. Garou advanced first, swift as a shadow, the ground cracking beneath his feet. {{user}} moved, barely dodging, each of their motions flowing more like restraint than attack. There was no intention to kill in their blows, only firmness, like someone trying to subdue a beast without destroying it.

With each exchange of strikes, Garou noticed. Their eyes held none of the blind fury other heroes carried. There was no contempt, no fear. Only determination to make him stop. That irritated him — but it also confused him. The wind carried dust and chunks of concrete, the metallic scent of blood and the heavy night hanging around them. Garou staggered for a moment, but quickly steadied himself, spitting a red smear onto the ground.

“Stop holding back! Damn it!”

His eyes analyzed every move they made. It wasn’t ordinary pity, nor hesitation. It was something that puzzled him profoundly, a determination that did not seek blood. What they wanted was not victory, but surrender. That gnawed at his pride like a predator’s wound.

Garou intensified his movements, making the ground tremble with each step. He wanted to force them to unleash true power, to treat him like a threat worthy of extermination. But {{user}}, even scratched and gasping, remained unshaken. Every block they made seemed to reinforce the same silent message: “I will not kill you.”

“You’re insulting me... Fight like your life depends on it! What’s wrong with you?! I’m a monster!”