Chapter 107: Flexed Wealth"Did you mate with an angel?" Victor asked, staring in disbelief at the pure white wings, his voice caught somewhere between awe and confusion.

    "I evolved with a bird," Adyr corrected him flatly.

    "Yeah—evolved. I misspoke," Victor muttered, grinning.

    Henry studied the wings in silence for a few seconds, his expression unreadable. There was caution in his eyes, but also a flicker of admiration. Finally, he leaned back into his chair and exhaled through his nose.

    "Alright. I’ll assign a unit to escort you to the village where your mother was attacked. From there, you can begin tracking the Cannibal and his hideout. But..." He paused, watching as Adyr calmly folded his wings back into his body like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You need to understand—the team I’m sending is only for escort and emergency support. I’m not throwing one of my main squads into the dark."

    Adyr’s decision was reckless, and it was entirely his own. Even if the person standing before him were his own son, Henry couldn’t justify sending his best soldiers to die for someone else’s choice. Besides, Adyr wasn’t bound to any unit. He wasn’t the kind to take orders, and the wings on his back made it clear—he was built to act alone.

    "If anything goes wrong, pull back and return. Even if all you manage to do is gather intel, that’s enough. We can build a proper strategy and strike at full strength afterward." That was all Henry could offer—and all he hoped for.

    "Of course," Adyr said. He wasn’t the kind to throw his life away foolishly. But he had no intention of coming back without blood on his hands. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Good." Once Henry was sure he understood, he typed something into his terminal, then turned the screen so Adyr could see.

    Displayed was the profile of a man who looked to be in his forties. He was completely bald—including his eyebrows—with dull, sunken eyes somewhere between brown and red. His mouth appeared deformed, with elongated corners and lips so thin they were nearly invisible.

    "This is the profile we put together after the last incident," Henry explained. "There’s no confirmed visual, but this was drawn based on consistent witness reports. Should be fairly accurate."

    "We have no earlier records. He’s likely a recent emergence—someone who rose quickly through fear and power to become a local overlord. Based on what we’ve gathered, he commands between 80 and 100 well-trained first-generation mutants. Each has an estimated combat power ranging from 250 to 400."

    Adyr nodded. His own score from the last assessment was 304, though by his calculations, his true strength was likely around 250. Which meant, at best, he was on par with the weakest of Cannibal’s subordinates. Still, with proper use of his Sparks and tactics, he believed he could defeat someone in the 400 range.

    Especially with Null Maggot—an ability that consumed vast amounts of energy but granted overwhelming debuff potential. In a real fight, it could turn the tide completely.

    "As for Cannibal himself," Henry continued, his tone dropping lower, "we estimate his strength at around 600—maybe even 700."

    He exhaled slowly. Even for him, those numbers were unsettling.

    "What we know for certain is that his body is extremely durable. His skin is hardened like metal, tough enough to withstand a direct hit from a rocket launcher. According to the latest reports, his physical strength is enough to rip through armored vehicle plating. We don’t have solid data on his speed. But the most concerning part is that he’s still growing stronger."

    "Do you think it’s something like our stat system? Is he playing the game?" Adyr asked, raising a brow. The thought had crossed his mind before—most recently in a conversation with Victor.

    "We don’t know. Since we had no information on him beforehand, we can’t track his progression. But during the past three or four days of conflict with STF, the reports indicate he became harder to kill with each passing day. On the first day, he was wounded by machine gun fire and retreated. The next day, he returned fully healed, and those same rounds barely scratched him. By the final day, when the entire team was wiped out, he took a direct RPG hit and stayed on his feet."

    Henry spoke in a low tone, almost as if doubting the reports himself, even though they came from his own units.

    "So that’s just another reason we need to kill him as soon as possible," Adyr said quietly. His voice was steady, but something darker moved beneath it.

    He knew monsters like this. He had once been one.

    Cannibal was dangerous. Not just because of his power, but because of why he used it. He wasn’t conquering. He was enjoying it. And someone like that, if left alone, wouldn’t stop until the world bled.

    "Yes, but as I said—only with a proper strategy," Henry replied, locking eyes with him. "I know you’re smart. Smarter than most. So I shouldn’t have to say this, but I will—don’t be reckless."

    His voice wasn’t commanding. It was something between a plea and a warning.

    "Anyway, there’s a unit heading out tonight to check the aftermath. You’ll join them. Just stay around. Someone will get in touch with you soon," Henry added.

    With that, the conversation ended, and Adyr and Victor turned to leave the room.

    As they opened the door, they were greeted by a staff member holding a tray with three cups of coffee.

    "Which one’s the sugary one?" Victor asked, grabbing his cup to drink on the way.

    Adyr ignored him, his eyes scanning the hallway for the STF officers. But they were already gone. He had hoped to catch another glimpse of Rhys—there was something about their brief meeting that had piqued his interest. Too many similarities. Too many silent answers.

    As the two of them descended in the elevator, Victor took a sip of his coffee and casually summoned a few faintly glowing purple crystals in his hand.

    "Here. Take these. For the road."

    Adyr gave a faint smile. In Victor’s palm were 22 Level 1 crystals—equivalent to 2.2 units of energy. It was likely all he had.

    "Thanks, but I don’t need them. Honestly, you probably need them more than I do," he said with a smirk.

    "What do you mean you don’t need them? You’re heading out on a suicide run, of course, you need them. Or are you just looking down on me?" Victor asked, eyebrows raised.

    "I am looking down on you," Adyr said, chuckling. "Pretty sure this is the first time I’m actually richer than you."

    As the elevator doors opened, Adyr stepped out without looking back.

    "Well..." Victor lingered inside for a moment, sipping his coffee as he watched him walk away. Then he quietly sent the crystals back into his [Sanctuary] and followed.

    For the first time in his life, someone had flexed wealth on him. And he felt proud.