I Am a Hero With A Hundred Abilities-Chapter 39: Ch 38. Old Grudges

As The air grew heavier.

Ethan stood in the center, his shirt flapping slightly from the lingering shockwave. His golden eyes glowed, pulsing with raw force.

"…Now," he said, voice low and lethal,

"I can fully focus on you four. No more distractions."

****

The air crackled with tension as Ethan stood tall, golden eyes ablaze with power.

Across from him, the remaining four villains regrouped, forming a loose perimeter around him. Each of them bore signs of the escalating battle—burnt edges and bruises forming under their clothes.

The man with molten fists clenched his jaw, his gauntlets glowing hot with seething magma. His mind raced.

How is he this strong?

This kid—this freshly awakened—wasn't just holding his own. He was dismantling them.

We're Level 3s.

We have years of experience from countless battles.

We've killed, we've survived, we've trained.

Even Verec, the invisible dagger-wielder, with his intermediate mastery, had fallen first. He was the ace up their sleeve. And yet…

He couldn't even last two minutes.

A chill ran down the molten-fist man's spine, sweat beading despite the heat radiating off him.

What kind of monster are we dealing with?

Should we have brought more men?

No time for that. Regret wouldn't save him now.

He had one option left—fight. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

The street lit up with chaos as the clash resumed.

Ethan surged forward like a bullet, weaving between the attacks of the ice user and the laser-eyed sharpshooter.

A concentrated beam of energy barely grazed his side, but he used the momentum to flip mid-air and retaliate with a brutal spinning kick that sent the heat mirage user crashing into a broken pillar.

Before Ethan could land, the ice manipulator moved—his fingers curled and ice spread across the alley floor, slick and glassy.

Ethan's foot slid—just enough.

As He began to fall backward.

Now! thought the molten-fist villain. This is my shot!

He charged, flame-coated fists ready to crush Ethan where he dropped.

But as he closed in, Ethan's lips curled into a grin.

"Got you."

In the blink of an eye, Ethan twisted mid-fall, planting a hand against the cold ground. With a burst of Force Might, his momentum reversed, accelerating unnaturally.

His leg rocketed upward.

CRACK!

The kick smashed into the molten-fist villain's jaw. The man raised his arms too late—the force bypassed his guard and rattled his skull, snapping his head back violently.

Ethan spun with the motion, landing on his feet with predator's grace.

He didn't stop.

In the same motion, he drove forward, fists flying.

One, two, three—countless blows slammed into the man's chest.

Each one thundered with kinetic force enhanced by his ability, breaking bones and breaking ribs. The villain tried to swing back, but his arms were sluggish—his vision swimming.

The other three villains watched, too winded to react in time. They'd spent too much energy trying to keep up.

Then—

BOOM!

Ethan landed a final, devastating punch to the gut. The molten-fist villain's body lifted off the ground before crashing through a crumbling wall behind him. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he slumped, unconscious, eyes rolled back.

Ethan straightened, cracking his knuckles.

Three left.

Their breathing was ragged. Their stances shaky.

He took a step toward them, power radiating off him like a storm ready to break.

The three remaining villains stood no chance.

Wounded, winded, and wide-eyed with fear—they barely got their guard up before Ethan descended on them like a reaper.

He moved with ruthless efficiency.

A snap-kick to the ribs crumpled the ice manipulator.

A brutal elbow to the jaw silenced the mirage user.

The laser-eyed man—already disoriented and blinded—barely managed a grunt before Ethan's fist met his stomach, folding him like a chair.

He didn't hold back.

And as the dust settled and bodies littered the cracked street, Ethan crouched beside the last conscious one—the man with the damaged laser eyes.

His goggles had been shattered in the chaos, and now he could barely open his bloodied lids.

Ethan grabbed him by the collar, hoisting him slightly. The man groaned, weakly trying to struggle, but he didn't have the strength anymore.

SLAP.

The sound echoed off the broken walls.

Ethan's voice was cold. "Why did you come after me?"

The man trembled. "W-We just… just wanted to ask you some questions…"

Ethan's golden eyes narrowed, unimpressed. "Questions?" he repeated, his voice laced with venom. "Is that why you showed up with this much bloodlust? Be honest with me."

He pressed his thumb on a broken bone on the man's shoulder—just enough to make it hurt, not enough to cripple.

The man clenched his teeth, but the pain broke his resistance.

He screamed. "Alright! Alright! I'll talk!"

Between pained breaths and panicked words, he spilled everything.

When he finished, Ethan let him slump to the ground—and with a sharp chop to the neck, knocked him unconscious.

He stood up, brushing dust from his clothes, and pulled out a sleek black communicator from his pocket.

"Ethan Cross," he spoke into it. "Five hostile villains taken down. Get a clean-up team here."

The device buzzed, confirming receipt. But Ethan's thoughts were already elsewhere.

What the man had said kept replaying in his head.

Alex.

So he hadn't let go.

Ethan's expression darkened, a flicker of something dangerous brewing beneath his calm exterior.

"I was going to leave him alone," he muttered to himself. "He never had a problem with me in particular… but now?"

"He just stepped on the dragon's tail."

"And he's going to get burnt."

With that, Ethan turned and walked back toward the bar—the quiet clink of glass and low music now audible again.

He stepped inside.

The bartender was still behind the counter, visibly tense but composed. Ethan approached him slowly.

"Sorry about the trouble earlier."

The man didn't respond. Instead, he shoved a folded slip of paper across the counter.

"This is the info you wanted," the bartender said, voice curt. "So now you can leave."

Ethan looked at the paper, then at the man. He could see it—the fear under the tough exterior. Ethan had only been there less than an hour, but already violence and destruction had followed.

He didn't blame the guy.

"…Thanks," Ethan said quietly, pocketing the note.

He stepped out into the cool duskline air, the sky above darkening to indigo.

Unfolding the paper, he read the address:

"23, Black Hollow, 7th Sector, Duskline District."

He exhaled.

"Let's hope there won't be more trouble on the way there."

But knowing the way things had been going lately…

He wasn't counting on it.

****

The Green Serpents were no ordinary clan in City X.

They were a pillar of power, influence, and prestige—boasting a roster of high-ranking heroes, resource magnates, and elite combat units.

Their stronghold loomed over the city like a fortress of glass and steel, a symbol of their dominance.

And at the top of that chain, just beneath the clan leader, sat Lyon Tusk—a Level 7 Grandmaster, feared and respected by allies and enemies alike.

Inside his private office—walls lined with different weapons, accolades, and surveillance feeds—Lyon's furious voice shattered the silence.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

His son, Alex Tusk, flinched at the thunderous yell. He stood stiffly across the ornate desk, clearly confused.

"I don't understand… What did I do?"

Lyon glared at him like he wanted to slap the ignorance off his face. With a sharp wave of his hand, a holographic projection flickered to life above the desk—displaying the battered, unconscious bodies of five villains.

The same five Alex had discreetly sent after Ethan.

Alex's eyes widened. "W-What happened…?"

Lyon let out a laugh—but it was hollow and venomous. Not a shred of amusement.

"Oh, now you're shocked?" he growled. "You sent out men to do a job, and didn't think it was wise to monitor them? To follow up? I thought I trained you better than this."

Alex stumbled over his words. "But it was just Ethan! He's just a recently awakened! Sending five level 3s was already overkill—"

"Overkill?" Lyon's voice cracked with contempt. "You fool. He's staying with the Lancaster family. That alone should've made you tread carefully."

Alex blinked. "You mean… they're that close? Close enough to hire someone to guard him?"

Lyon narrowed his eyes, voice dropping to a dangerous calm. "I don't know. Maybe he has something they want. Maybe there's something deeper going on. But you just brought their attention on us, and in the worst way possible."

Alex's expression shifted—panic creeping in.

"So… what do we do now?"

Lyon exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I've already sent my men to detain the five before they can talk. But if that bodyguard—whoever took them down—got any information out of them…"

He looked up at his son, voice like a blade.

"Then we may be heading to war with the Lancasters."

The words hit like a sledgehammer.

Alex gulped audibly, his face going pale. He knew what war with the Lancaster family meant.

Power, Influence and Bloodshed.

And in a city like this… a single misstep could bring the whole clan crumbling.

...

...

...

A/N I will release an extra chapter if I get 90 power stones or 30 Golden tickets and I appologize for the late release had some trouble with the police.

...

...

...

...