The current match on stage had faded into background noise. No matter how it ended, it would never live up to the chaos that was Samuel vs. Jim.

In the corner, Danny cracked his knuckles.

"Only one opponent left... Demon Agent Rex. Seriously? My luck is trash."

"Well, enjoy it," Samuel replied telepathically. "Battle Assist Mode is wild. Once it clicks, you're gonna love it."

Danny smirked faintly.

"Eh, we already smoked him once. Should be a quick one."

"Hell Order," he called silently, "Engage Battle Assist."

Acknowledged. Uploading Hell Martial Arts. Synchronizing host with blade-sync protocols. Would you like to execute Hell Sword Skills?"

Danny's grin widened.

"Hell yeah."

ZAAAAP.

Power lanced down his spine like lightning. His body jolted. Sweat poured instantly. He gritted his teeth—jaw clenched through the pain.

"Damn it. I'll never get used to that freaking zap…"

Agent Jim glanced over. "Hey… you okay? You're sweating like you just ran a jungle track barefoot."

Samuel answered for him, casually leaning back. "He's fine. He's just getting warmed up."

On the mat, the previous match ended in a draw. Agent Vick glanced between the final two names.

His voice rang sharp:

"Final match. Recruit Danny versus Agent Rex."

The crowd stirred.

This was it.

The final bout—and a Hell Enforcer versus a Demon-class agent?

Every conversation paused. Every gaze locked forward.

Agent Rex stepped into the ring with a slow, deliberate presence. He strapped on his signature gauntlets—jagged, clawed, and forged to resemble the hands of the demon that once possessed him. His aura radiated hostility.

"Don't tell me you're fighting me bare-handed," he snarled. "That'll be suicide."

Danny said nothing. He simply lifted his left wrist.

With a tap of his fingers, his Hell artifact bracelet responded. Black mist swirled and solidified—forging into a sleek obsidian sword with crimson veins glowing down its spine.

Gasps echoed around the gym.

Agent Jim leaned toward Samuel, eyes wide. "What?! That thing turned into a sword?! Damn, this is anime-level transformation. Yours does that too?"

Samuel smirked. "Nah. Mine opens the doors to Hell."

Jim blinked. "...Cool."

"Let the match begin," Vick announced.

Both fighters dropped into combat stances.

Then—it happened.

As Danny moved to strike a dramatic opening pose, a spray of sweat flicked off his soaked head—splattering Agent Rex directly across the face.

Rex recoiled instantly.

"ARGH—MY FACE!"

Smoke curled from his skin where the droplets hit. His claws scraped across his cheek as he reflexively tried to wipe the stinging pain away—only cutting himself deeper.

"Get back!" he roared, staggering back two steps. "Don't come near me!"

Danny froze, blinking. "Uh… Are you okay?"

Below the ring, confused murmurs broke out.

"What the hell just happened?"

Samuel was already grinning. "Ohhhh no…"

Jim raised a brow. "You know what's going on?"

"Yeah. I forgot to mention… My brother over there?"

Samuel pointed casually.

"He's poison to demons. His sweat, vomit, blood, or even urine—all of it's toxic to anything demonic."

Silence.

Every agent in the room collectively leaned back, eyebrows raised, minds blown.

"Damn," Agent Michael murmured. "That's his passive?"

Across the gym, Agent Black's voice sliced like a blade.

"Rex! Are those your capabilities?! Then perhaps you should just surrender."

Her tone held contempt. Even worse—it sounded like disappointment.

Rex flinched under her gaze. Whatever panic clouded his face vanished. He inhaled sharply, forced composure—and turned to face Danny.

"No." His voice went cold. "We continue."

Then, like a switch had flipped, his aura ignited—wild, furious, lethal. He launched forward with everything he had.

Agent Rex turned into a blur of claws and rage.

He came in with a full-force barrage—overhead slash, side sweep, lunge to the gut. Every strike was aimed at Danny's vital points. This wasn't sparring anymore. This was kill-mode.

But Danny—hell-synced, battle-primed—moved like he could see time.

He raised his sword and blocked each strike with perfect angles—sparks flew as blade met claw.

Everything slowed in his mind.

He could see the blood vessels pulsing behind Rex's eyes.

The micro-twitch of a shoulder telegraphing the next strike.

Even the red sheen overtaking Rex's pupils—full demonic rage.

"He's going for the kill now… Understood."

Danny's stance shifted.

He stopped defending.

He attacked.

Three clean counters in rapid sequence. Step-in slash at the left gauntlet. Overhead twist. Final sweep—

CLANG.

Rex's right gauntlet split down the middle and clattered to the floor.

The room gasped.

Rex roared—rushing in with his remaining claw, aiming for Danny's throat.

Too late.

Danny dropped low, planted his foot on the fallen gauntlet, vaulted—

His back foot pinned the clawed gauntlet to the mat.

His other leg bent as he planted his heel onto Rex's shoulder mid-air, pinning the demon in place.

And his obsidian sword—unsheathed judgment—rested gently at Rex's neck.

The blade hovered.

A breath away from slicing.

Absolute control.

Agent Rex froze.

Not a muscle moved.

Not a breath taken.

Time stood still.

Every agent below had their hearts in their throats.

Angela exhaled quietly.

"What control… over sword and speed…"

Even Vick narrowed his eyes.

Jim let out a slow whistle.

Samuel, arms folded, smirked with pride.

This was more than a sparring match.

This was a message.

Don't underestimate us.

We are Hell Enforcers.

Danny stood in a locked stance—one foot on Rex's shoulder, his obsidian blade hovering just inches from his throat. Sweat dripped from his face, tracing a line down his jaw before falling onto Rex's skin.

Ssssss—

A faint hiss filled the air as black steam curled up from Rex's cheek. The contact burned like acid.

He gritted his teeth, body trembling—not from fear, but from fury. His demon-blooded skin reddened and pulsed where the sweat landed, as if rejecting it.

Black vapor coiled like smoke from a dying fire.

Agent Sally took one step forward, concern flashing across her medic-trained eyes.

"Chief," she called softly to Vick, voice calm but urgent, "Agent Rex's vitals are destabilizing. I recommend calling the match."

Vick observed silently for one more beat, then gave a firm nod.

"Agreed. Match over."

He turned toward the crowd, voice echoing with finality.

"Recruit Danny—one-point victory. Agent Rex, report to medical with Agent Sally immediately."

Rex didn't argue.

He couldn't.

He simply lowered his head and stepped out of the ring, fury brimming just beneath the surface.

From the back of the gym, Agent Black turned wordlessly and exited through the side corridor. Her expression didn't change—but the weight of her presence vanished with her.

Danny exhaled and hopped off the platform, rejoining Samuel and Jim.

Cheers didn't erupt. There were no high-fives or back slaps.

But the energy in the room shifted.

The agents—silent, observant, calculating—watched the two rookies with renewed eyes.

Whispers began circulating.

"Maybe they aren't just lucky…"

"Could've just been a bad intro yesterday…"

"They're… promising. Dangerous, even."

For the first time, Samuel and Danny weren't anomalies.

They were being seen as peers—or perhaps, threats.

But not everyone was clapping inside.

Hidden in the back corner near the monitors, Agent Nick clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. His jaw twitched as his mind churned—resentment boiling over into obsession.

This is bad. Really bad… They're gaining ground.

The longer they're here, the stronger they'll become.

No. I won't let these freaks take root in my Division.

His lips curled into a smirk laced with poison.

Let's see how you handle curses... in the Evidence Room.

To Be Continued.