Ethan popping up right in front of them made the three grotesque figures frown hard, instinctively tightening up.
"Cheap tricks," one of them snarled. "I don't buy it. You're not even Tier 12—how strong could a piece of trash like you be?"
Monroe snorted. A massive black energy fist condensed in midair, then slammed down toward Ethan like a falling boulder.
Ethan's mouth ticked up.
With a thought, a figure flashed into existence in front of him. It lifted a hand and casually slapped the dark fist aside—
—and the whole thing scattered like smoke.
"!!!"
Monroe and the other two froze, eyes blown wide, their faces turning wary in an instant.
They tried to sense the newcomer's strength.
Nothing.
It was like that figure didn't have any power at all.
Which made it worse.
Because something that could disperse Monroe's Dark Fist with a lazy backhand had no business reading as "nothing."
Ethan's voice went cold. "Dopey. Kill them."
