CHAPTER 279: NO CHANCE OF ESCAPE

When the vans skidded to a stop, their back doors burst open and a flood of Rejected Corps members poured out.

They came with wide, eager smiles, smiles that didn’t belong to men here to talk. Some carried daggers that gleamed under the dull overhead lights, their edges already nicked from use. Others gripped batons, tapping them against their palms like they couldn’t wait to swing.

But most didn’t even bother with weapons. For them, this was about raw, physical dominance. The thrill of hand-to-hand combat. The confidence that they didn’t need steel to win.

"It’s okay, Wolf," Abby said suddenly. Her voice was quiet but clear enough for him to hear. "It’s alright... you tried your best. You don’t have to keep going, it’s okay."

She had been thinking about saying those words for a while now. The thought had been gnawing at her during their entire escape. Why put Max in danger? Why put Wolf in danger? Why keep running when all of this could be stopped by just one person surrendering, me?

Wolf turned to her, his eyes narrowing. "Hey, we’re not giving up that easy!" His tone was sharp, but beneath it was an energy, defiance.

"You know," he continued, "there are times when I’m gaming and I think, ’I’m never going to get this. The drop rate’s less than one percent, so why even bother, right?’ But you know what? I always end up getting the item I need. Always. And it’s going to be the same here."

Abby blinked at him, startled by the strange comparison, but there was something in his voice that wouldn’t let her dismiss it.

"I wasn’t so sure about my last strategy," Wolf admitted, cracking his neck as he stepped forward, "but those vans that just pulled up? I can definitely drive them away."

He didn’t wait for her response. Wolf exploded into motion, charging straight toward the first group. His head still throbbed from the earlier hit, but he pushed past it. Pain was irrelevant, momentum was everything.

The first man he targeted had a dagger clutched in his fist. Out of all the opponents here, some might wonder why Wolf went for him first. But Wolf’s reasoning was simple, take out the blades before they take you out.

As the man slashed, the steel whistled through the air. Wolf’s back bent in a smooth, unnatural arc, his flexibility saving him by a hair’s breadth as the dagger sliced nothing but air.

Then, with a sudden twist, Wolf’s leg shot out like a coiled spring, his kick slamming into the man’s side. The blow sent the man sprawling to the ground, his dagger hand extended awkwardly. Wolf stomped down hard on the wrist, there was a sickening crunch, and the man’s grip gave out instantly.

Wolf didn’t waste time. He kicked the dagger far across the asphalt, sending it skittering out of reach.

But in that split second of distraction, another Rejected Corps member vaulted over his own ally’s back and drove both feet forward in a flying kick. The strike caught Wolf square in the chest, knocking him back hard toward Abby.

"Damn..." Wolf gritted his teeth as he caught himself. I only took out one before getting hit. If they were spread out, I could handle them one by one. But like this...

Movement flashed at the corner of his eye, one of the men was rushing straight for Abby, hand outstretched as if to grab her.

Wolf didn’t think. He didn’t plan. He just moved.

He slipped in front of her at the last possible moment, his fists firing twice into the man’s stomach. The impact forced the air out of him in ragged gasps, his body folding forward. That’s when Wolf’s hand swept upward, his nails hard and sharpened from years of keeping them that way, raking across the man’s cheek. A thin, bloody line appeared instantly, the man staggering back in shock and pain.

Wolf pivoted sharply, eyes locked on the nearest van, ready to make his move, until a sudden, brutal strike smashed into the back of his leg.

The blow sent a sharp jolt of pain shooting up through his thigh, forcing his knee to buckle. He hissed, but didn’t let it drop him completely. Spinning on instinct, his fist lashed out, connecting with another man’s jaw in a perfectly timed strike. The man’s head snapped back so hard his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull before he dropped like a sack of bricks.

"Man," someone muttered from the circle, half in awe. "I knew he was a strong wild one, but this... this is just like when he fought the Chalk Line boys."

They weren’t wrong. Only, that fight had taken place in a restaurant, walls, tables, chairs all within reach. For someone like Wolf, obstacles were weapons, tools he could use to control the space. Out here, on the open asphalt, it was the worst kind of environment for him.

The circle of men tightened, cutting off any escape routes. And then, the crowd shifted, parting slightly as a larger figure approached. Na.

Wolf’s gut twisted.

Damn it. If he joins in, I’ve got no chance of getting out of this alive.

Na smirked, stopping at the edge of the circle. "Don’t worry," he said coolly, hands clasped behind his back. "I won’t be joining in. There’s no need. These people are more skilled than you think."

Wolf gritted his teeth. There was no turning back now. The choice he’d made had led him here, and the only way forward was through them.

He threw his head back and roared. "ARGHHHH!"

Charging forward, Wolf became a whirlwind of fists and fury. The first man in his path took a punch square to the chest, the force sending him stumbling backward. But even as Wolf moved, a baton came swinging down hard, smashing into his arm.

Another strike came in from the side, slamming into his ribs. Then one more whipped across his face.

His head snapped sideways from the impact, warm blood spraying onto the asphalt. He spat a red streak toward the men in front of him, a sharp, defiant glare in his eyes.

Then, before they could react, his hands shot out, grabbing two of them by the skull. With a violent jerk, he slammed their heads together, the crack of bone-on-bone ringing through the air.

Wolf stood his ground, chest heaving, but another heavy blow came from behind, smashing into the back of his head. His vision flickered, the edges going dark for a split second, but he refused to go down. His body swayed, yet his fists kept moving.

At this rate... I could really die... The thought flickered across his mind as he ducked another swing. But for some reason... I don’t want this girl... to... His teeth clenched. F**k... what’s happened to me?

Two men suddenly rushed in from behind, their boots slamming into the back of his legs. His knees hit the asphalt hard, pain jolting through his bones.

"STOPPPPP!" Abby’s voice tore through the chaos, her scream so raw and loud.