"THIS IS THE POLICE! HANDS UP!"
A series of security personnel in earth brown uniforms, wearing black hats, rushed into the main hall of the mine. The place that was originally the gathering area for miners had now turned into a bloody pile of corpses waiting to be dissected. A space once full of sweat and resilient labor, now only a desolate battlefield remained, the metallic smell of blood and the sound of wailing.
That was the impression of the young officer leading his group. As the captain, he was determined to capture the suspect who was the perpetrator of this great disaster.
"RON IRUS! YOU ARE SUSPECTED OF TERRORISM, DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY, INTENTIONAL INFLICTION OF INJURY, AND ILLEGAL ENTRY! WE REQUIRE YOU TO ABANDON THE INTENTION TO ATTACK AND OBEDIENTLY SUBMIT TO BEING BOUND!"
Legally, the above declarations were somewhat deviated from the experimental procedure, but it seemed no one here bothered to stop him. Perhaps he was a person suffering from cognitive issues, or a person who climbed the ranks through connections, because no experienced captain would make such elementary mistakes at a scene.
"..."
That was the thought of a man wearing black clothes and a fedora hat standing in the distance observing.
"Hey, you hound! Are you not intending to help us? If you do not support, your name will not be in the report."
Another young officer with dark brown skin patted the shoulder of the one just called a "hound". He sneered, looking at him like a useless guy standing frozen in one spot.
"...I am not a dog, I am a detective. This is an important mission, do not be reckless."
The concise sentence was enough to sketch a part of this private detective's personality: a difficult person who always tends to avoid society.
The dark skinned officer did not care at all, he pointed toward the crowd piled into a mountain in the distance:
"They are not dead yet. If you still have a bit of humanity and still want to receive a salary, help us take them away. After all, carrying the title of detective, but have you done anything useful yet?"
He uttered teasing words then nonchalantly walked toward the collapsed Almy. His true target seemed to be the wallet in Almy's pants pocket. The detective had guessed that intention but said nothing, he only continued to stare intently at Ron who was lying in the distance. Suddenly, his eyes flickered repeatedly; he immediately shouted toward the captain who was approaching:
"DO NOT TOUCH HIM!"
Immediately, the detective burst into a sprint. His speed surpassed the threshold the naked eye could follow, only leaving a blurred trail of dust on the ground.
"DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE! STAND STILL THERE!"
Ignoring the warning, the captain still rushed forward intending to personally arrest Ron. In his eyes, Ron was too weak. A person who was only at Mana level 3, even if possessing Death Mana, was still an ant. The captain had reached level 7, while the others were all level 5 or above. Even Almy was level 5, it was just that Almy was too terrified so he did not timely use mana to probe the opponent's strength.
The captain smiled contemptuously, regarding the detective as a joke. Moreover, with a giant sword piercing through the body like that, who could believe a 15 year old child still had the strength to resist?
'At most it is a layer of protective magic, what the heck to worry about?'
With that thought, he activated a blue green magic field around his body then reached out to touch Ron. However, whether it was level 3 or level 7, all were flesh and blood entities.
"You fool!" – The detective bellowed. That guy had fallen into the trap.
At that exact moment, all the police standing outside watching the play had to witness a horrific scene.
"GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The captain screamed in pain then collapsed to the ground. He curled up, clutching his legs and stomach, his mouth constantly sobbing in tears.
"Liver, ligaments, throat, hand tendons, groin."
The private detective approached, stopping exactly ten paces away from Ron. He carefully observed then nonchalantly commented:
"A thread threaded under the shadow of the feet, following the layer of fabric to lock tight the weak points of a human. The iron thread is as sharp as a razor, as soon as he turned on the mana shield, the pressure from the magic field accidentally pulled the thread taut, creating a devastating cutting force."
The detective stopped moving. From his palm grew a pitch black tree branch with sophisticated golden leaf patterns.
"Blind!"
The surrounding space fell into a phantom silence. From the ceiling of the mine, a series of ceiling lights began to fall, taking Ron as the axis center. As soon as the first light bulb was about to touch Ron's head, it exploded in mid air.
At the same time, at Ron's eye sockets, the glass fragments began to crack and shatter. Blood gushed out incessantly, staining his face red.
"..."
Ron did not continue to let himself fall into a passive state. He stood up with a bizarrely distorted movement, like a demon just emerging from hell. His eyeballs protruded from the sockets, but now they only carried two colors of black and white instead of golden as before.
For the first time in three years, Ron officially fought.
That was right, Ron did not climb to his current title thanks to brutal strength. He had never needed to fight to prove his ability. Because, to him, having to directly act to fight was inherently a part of the result he had predetermined.