Mace was baffled.
Not just a little confused or mildly surprised, but genuinely baffled.
He had co here expecting resistance, maybe so posturing, maybe even a bit of fear. Instead, Ethan suddenly accepted the invitation to the underground fight club without hesitation... and then, as if that wasn’t strange enough, had gone a step further and challenged him directly.
It didn’t make sense.
Ethan ca across as almost too confident, too calm, and sure of himself.
’Is it because he has an A Rank in his corner? But even she is apparently the weakest A Rank.’
He had a bunch of questions, but Mace didn’t dwell on them for long, after all...
’He’s only an E Rank.’
That alone made everything else irrelevant.
’He’s always had a screw loose,’ Mace thought with a faint smirk as he turned away. ’But to think he’d actually want to fight ?’
His lips curled beneath the mask.
’I was told just to invite him... and now I get to beat his ass too.’
It was an unexpected bonus, one he gladly accepted.
Mace then began to walk off casually, already thinking ahead - how he’d report back, how tonight would play out, how easily he’d deal with Ethan in front of a crowd.
But then, sothing shifted.
A prickling sensation ran down his spine, his instincts screaming danger.
Before he could fully react, a voice sounded quietly behind him as Ethan mumbled sothing under his breath.
"Minor Assimilation: Wolfy."
In the next instant, Mace’s world jerked violently.
A hand grabbed the back of his hood and yanked it hard.
His head snapped backwards, his body pulled off balance as his footing faltered. For a brief mont, it looked like he was about to stumble and fall back.
But then he suddenly stopped dead.
It was as if his weight had suddenly tripled, his muscles tensing and grounding him in place.
Ethan didn’t care.
Even with that resistance, even with Mace bracing himself, the force behind that initial pull had been undeniable. He also wasn’t planning on fighting him here; that could wait for the so-called UFC.
If he were serious about facing Mace, he would have jumped straight to Partial Assimilation.
Ethan stood close behind him.
"If you ever co back here..."
His voice was low and cold in a way that didn’t need volu to carry weight.
"...I’ll fucking kill you."
There was no shouting, dramatic flair, or wasted motion, just pure killing intent.
Then he let go of his hood and walked off.
Mace remained still for a mont, processing what had just happened.
He should have laughed and brushed it off like a joke.
Who would take the threat of an E Rank nobody seriously?
But that didn’t feel like an empty threat, and more than that, the strength Ethan had when he dragged him back was impressive, at least for a supposed E Rank.
It lingered in his mind.
"Hah."
A quiet chuckle escaped him as he adjusted his hood.
"I guess tonight is going to be fun after all."
With that, Mace walked off into the night, already preparing what he’d say to his boss.
-
anwhile, Ethan needed a mont before heading inside.
Sothing inside him was bubbling hot, sharp, and dangerous.
He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as the faint effects of Minor Assimilation still coursed through him. His senses were sharper, his body lighter, his instincts more... alive.
It didn’t help.
If anything, it made the feeling worse.
So he moved.
With a light push off the ground, he leapt, his body clearing the height effortlessly as he landed on the roof of the house with a soft thud.
The cold evening air hit him instantly, calming and grounding.
Ethan pulled out a cigarette.
Then another.
And another.
Lighting one, then another shortly after, going through them faster than usual.
Smoke curled into the air as he leaned back slightly, listening.
From inside the house, there was laughter, music, and voices overlapping - the muffled chaos of celebration.
For a few minutes, he just stayed there, letting the tension bleed out slowly.
Then he straightened and practised a smile until it felt right.
"Good enough."
He flicked his final cigarette aside, crushed it under his heel, and dropped down from the roof.
Landing lightly, he walked up to the door and knocked.
The mont it opened, he burst in with exaggerated energy.
"Where’s the birthday boy?!"
Adonis turned instantly and lit up.
"Uncle Ethan!"
The kid practically launched himself forward, bouncing on his feet in excitent.
Ethan crouched down, grinning.
"There he is," he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. "You’ve been causing trouble without ?"
"No!" Adonis laughed. "Well... maybe a little."
Elara stepped in behind him, holding out the gift that she had been waiting until Ethan arrived to give to the boy.
Adonis’s eyes widened imdiately.
"For ?!"
"Go on," Ethan said. "Open it."
The tearing of wrapping paper was almost violent.
Then there was silence, one that made Ethan nervous that they had bought the wrong thing, until...
"NO WAY!"
Ethan and Elara weren’t sure what a six-year-old would want, so they purchased the latest handheld gaming console. It was sleek and expensive, with more buttons than Ethan knew how to use.
Adonis looked like he might explode from excitent.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
He threw his arms around Ethan, then awkwardly hugged Elara too.
From the side, Tasha folded her arms.
"Ethan..." she said slowly.
The blue-eyed man flinched slightly.
"Yeah?"
"You two are spoiling him too much."
But even as she said it, her gaze softened, because her son hadn’t looked this happy in a long ti.
Tasha sighed.
Then she stepped forward and pulled Ethan into a brief hug.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Ethan blinked in surprise before smiling, this ti genuinely.
"No problem."
The night continued: dinner, laughter, cake.
As always, it was too much food and sugar, leaving Adonis running around like a maniac before eventually having a sugar crash.
From the outside, it was the perfect birthday, one that was warm, normal, and happy.
But the entire ti, Ethan was tense.
How could he not be?
He had just volunteered to fight in an underground arena against soone whose abilities he didn’t fully understand, in front of who knew how many people.
But it wasn’t nerves he was feeling, but excitent, itching to get his hands on Mace...
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