Mrs. Ryan was already waiting anxiously by the door when Douglas and his men arrived. She hurried forward at once.

  “My dear, you must properly thank Glenn this time—he saved both me and our child.”

  Douglas’s eyes swept over his wife, inspecting her from head to toe. Only after confirming she was unhurt did he release a long, shaky breath.

  “Tell me everything. What exactly happened?”

  A crowd had gathered nearby, eager for gossip. One onlooker shouted indignantly, “Sheriff Douglas, what’s going on with your law enforcement? The criminals are running right into our neighborhood!”

  A hot-tempered officer spun toward the man and barked, “You’d better watch your mouth! The victim here is the captain’s wife. If you’ve got nothing useful to say, don’t stir up trouble!”

  Though a police officer wasn’t a lofty position, his uniform carried enough authority to silence the crowd instantly.

  “Let’s talk inside,” Mrs. Ryan urged gently, aware that this was no place for discussion.

  Moments later, after hearing the full account, Douglas broke into a cold sweat. Gratitude and shock warred within him—gratitude that his family was safe, and disbelief at Glenn’s overwhelming strength.

  “No wonder he dares live in Bayek,” he muttered under his breath. “So he’s not just an ordinary man after all...” Then, suddenly realizing something, he looked up sharply. “Darling, you said he left in a hurry—could it be he received some kind of lead?”

  “A lead?” Mrs. Ryan echoed, puzzled.

  But Douglas’s mind was already racing. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. His tone hardened as he issued an order to his subordinates.

  “Move! Track Glenn’s whereabouts at once—he may have discovered where that group is hiding!”

  …

  Meanwhile, at the ruined tavern.

  The once noisy bar was now little more than rubble.

  Glass, his body covered in jagged claw marks, panted heavily, breath ragged like a beast’s. He had thought he’d gauged his opponent’s strength, yet Glenn’s flawless technique and battle-hardened precision had left him utterly overwhelmed.

  If this keeps up, I’ll die here…

  “How long do you plan to just watch?!” Glass suddenly roared toward the ceiling, his voice thunderous. “Get out here and help me!”

  Glenn halted mid-strike, eyes narrowing. “So the true culprit finally shows himself?”

  He had deliberately refrained from killing Glass outright—baiting the hidden master into revealing himself. If he struck too swiftly, the coward in the shadows might flee, and the trail would be lost.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  A low, rasping laugh echoed around them, sending chills through the air. The surviving henchmen froze in horror as their bodies began to wither, blood draining from them in visible streams of red mist that converged above Glass—then poured straight into his open mouth.

  His aura surged wildly.

  Glenn did nothing to stop him, focusing instead on sharpening his senses to locate the disembodied voice’s true source.

  As the last drop of blood was absorbed, Glass’s back erupted with jagged bone spikes. Two symmetrical cavities tore open in his chest, expanding and contracting as though breathing. His entire frame swelled grotesquely, muscles bulging, skin splitting.

  “Now you’ll know despair!”

  With a furious roar, Glass spewed a column of violet flame that blazed straight toward Glenn’s chest.

  The flare lit Glenn’s face in blinding white. His muscles tensed, a faint layer of black fur sprouting along his arms as he narrowly dodged the inferno.

  The violet fire pursued him relentlessly as he dashed in circles, four limbs propelling him with inhuman speed.

  To an outsider, it might have looked like a desperate chase—but Glenn’s focus lay elsewhere. He was still honing in on the voice’s source.

  Then, in one perfectly timed step, he found it.

  There you are, he thought, eyes locking onto the old stone well nearby.

  “Found you,” he murmured, baring his teeth in a cold grin.

  He halted abruptly, then charged straight at Glass.

  Seeing this, Glass grinned savagely. He cut off the flames, drew back his massive arm, and with a sickening tear, a bone spike more than a meter long burst from his wrist, thrusting forward like a spear.

  Glenn leapt high, his right hand raised. Under Glass’s widening eyes, that hand swelled like an inflating beast—until the palm alone was large enough to crush his entire body.

  The colossal wolf’s claw came crashing down. The bone spike snapped before it could pierce even a strand of fur.

  A single, bone-shattering impact—and Glass was reduced to pulp.

  A shriek of disbelief tore through the air.

  “Impossible! Such power—how could someone like you exist in a place like this?!”

  Glenn opened his mouth to reply, but the ground suddenly quaked beneath him, cutting him off.

  Rumble...

  From the well erupted a monstrous form, shattering stone and earth. Dust filled the air, veiling its outline. Glenn raised an arm to shield his face, his gaze narrowing coldly.

  “You destroyed everything I built,” a guttural voice rumbled. “Now you may choose how you wish to die.”

  The creature that emerged was a grotesque titan of flesh—its massive, segmented body layered with rings of quivering muscle. Its head was a nightmare of gnashing mandibles and countless eyes that rolled in chaotic motion.

  Yet Glenn’s attention was fixed on its swollen abdomen.

  There, encased within translucent white sacs, were children—boys and girls no older than fourteen, their frail bodies bound in thick, threadlike tendrils. Their eyes, half-lidded with pain, flickered weakly; now and then, one would struggle feebly before the parasite drained them further.

  Glenn’s chest heaved once, fury surging like fire—but he forced it down, his expression turning to ice.

  The monstrous worm’s laughter rumbled like thunder.

  “Hahaha... Remember the human whelps you asked about? There they are. I am feasting on their purest life essence—draining every last drop of value from their pitiful bodies. They will die in agony. Such delightful misery, don’t you think?”

  Glenn lifted his gaze, eyes devoid of emotion. “You’ll soon learn what real pain feels like.”

  The beast let out another shriek of mocking laughter—only for Glenn’s figure to vanish into a blur of dust.

  Almost instantly, a protective barrier flared to life across the monster’s abdomen—a shimmering violet shield that caught Glenn’s strike head-on.

  The wolf’s claws slammed against it with a sharp, ringing pulse—but held.

  Rather than anger, the creature erupted in deranged laughter.

  “Ha! You thought killing a weak human made you powerful? Fool! To me, you’re nothing but another insect—stronger, perhaps, but still just a worm!”

  Insect? Glenn nearly snorted. Who’s the insect here, exactly?

  The creature continued its taunts, voice swelling with pride.

  “And you think brute strength will save them? Pathetic. The moment they leave my body—they’ll die instantly!”