Then they keep moving through the streets like blades through cloth, cutting down anything that lurked too close to them to be seen.
Mutants ca in twos and threes group at first, then in larger packs, drawn by the noise of battle.
Mina didn’t shy away. Each kill was done with sharper precision fueled with anger.
Her dagger flashing in the pale daylight, her steps becoming quicker and surer.
She barely paused between attacks, each of her motions was smoother than the last.
Her breathing steady despite the chaos around them. By the ti the last body slumped to the ground, the faint shimr of the system’s interface flickered before her eyes.
[Level Up] Level: 21
She opened the status window without hesitation, her finger tapping through the floating panels.
Without overthinking, she poured all the newly earned points straight into Strength for now.
The change was instant. Her limbs felt steadier, her grip felt stronger, the dagger in her hand almost too light now.
Her stance shifted without her realizing it. Her movents carrying more weight.
She started forward without waiting for Clyde, scanning for another fight as if the air itself was taunting her to keep moving.
"Mina wait," Clyde’s voice cut through her montum.
She stopped, though she didn’t turn to face him.
"Why? We’re supposed to move fast and kill fast, right?"
"That’s how you die fast as well," he said, tone flat and certain.
Mina turned, frowning. "You need to stop treating like I’m still a weakling."
"You are," Clyde replied without hesitation.
Her jaw tightened, and she jabbed her dagger toward the row of corpses littering the cracked pavent behind him.
"Didn’t you see what I just did?"
He studied her in silence for a mont. Beneath the sharp edge of her tone and the streaks of blood drying on her skin, her eyes still burned with fresh grief and rage. The kind of feeling that pushed soone to move faster than they should, to take risks without thinking.
The signs were familiar to him. He let out a quiet sigh, then spoke slower, as though each word needed to settle in her mind.
"They were weak monsters, Mina. If you keep being reckless, you will die. And if you die here your revenge dies with you. I can’t protect you if you run too far ahead," Clyde said.
Her expression faltered, the heat in her chest cooling under the weight of his words.
She lowered her gaze slightly and exhaled. "Sorry."
"It’s fine," he said, his tone losing its edge. "Just stay close enough that I can cover you if things turn bad."
She nodded silently.
A thought ca to her then. "I just rembered that last night, I got a new skill."
That made Clyde lift his head with interest.
"That’s good. You didn’t have any before. Open your skill window and see it."
She opened it and the translucent blue panel unfolded before her eyes.
[Skill Acquired]
Na: Blood Edge
Rank: C
Type: Active Combat Skill
Description: Channels the user’s life force into their weapon, temporarily sharpening its edge and increasing cutting power. The more blood spilled during activation, the stronger the effect.
Duration: 20 seconds.
Clyde’s eyes narrowed slightly as he heard the description Mina told hiim about her new skill.
"That sounds dangerous, but useful. It will have to do right now but use it carefully in the most needed situation. Because it will dry your blood quickly. Its not using your magic power but blood to activate."
Mina nodded, understanding his warning.
—
From the shadowed mouth of a half-collapsed building, seven figures watched them.
Their shapes were outlined against the broken concrete. They have gri streaked faces half-hidden by hoods, masks, and ragged scarves.
The air around them slled of stale sweat and rusted tal. The faint clink of weapons showing their intent.
One of them, a tall man with a scar splitting his eyebrow, tilted his head toward Mina.
"That girl looks fine as hell," he muttered, voice dripping with a leering tone. "Her face is so pretty and she is also quick on her feet. Bet she’d scream nice. Hehehe."
A shorter, broad-shouldered man chuckled.
"So we take her, break her in and have so fun. Then we see what’s in their packs," he said while adjusting the grip on his chipped machete.
Another leaned forward, eyes narrowing at the glint of steel in Clyde’s grip and the dagger Mina held.
"Not just the girl. Look at those weapons. They’re not scrap tal. It will make us stronger if we keep them."
Soone else clicked his tongue. "Yeah. Those aren’t normal blades and spear. With the way they cut through those freaks earlier, those weapons might be special."
For a mont, silence hung between them, the thought of such prizes almost clear in their hands as if they would get it for certain.
"They look stronger than the usual wanderers. If we rush in, it will put us at risk," one of the younger n spoke, his tone edged with unease.
The leader, a gaunt man with sharp cheekbones and cold, pale eyes, turned to him with a smirk that didn’t touch his expression.
"There are seven of us. You think two people, no matter how good, can take seven?" His gaze swept across his n, asuring them like tools. "They will bleed like anyone else. If they’ve got sothing worth taking, we will take it."
The one with the machete grinned wide, showing yellowed teeth. "Then let’s not waste ti."
The leader’s eyes shifted back toward the street where Mina and Clyde stood, their silhouettes frad by drifting dust and sunlight.
"We hit them hard and fast. Cut off their escape. Don’t give them room to breathe. That girl is mine. We’ll sort out the weapons later." His voice lowered, almost a growl.
They began to move, slow at first, fanning out through the rubble-strewn alleys.
Their boots scraped over broken glass and loose stone, their shadows stretching long as they slipped into position.
Two of them circled left, vanishing behind the husks of abandoned vehicles.
Three of them took the right side, weaving through the narrow space between collapsed walls.
The last two stayed close to the leader, waiting for his signal.
Clyde and Mina were still in the open, unaware of the net drawing tight around them.
The leader’s hand twitched, fingers curling slightly as an unspoken command that told the rest it was almost ti.
—
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