It's not quiet.
Hector stared at the amulet in his hand.
"When I wear it, I will no longer be Hector Ayala. I will become... something else."
"Buzz--!"
Hector's muscles were taut, and beneath his skin, which had become slightly loose due to long-term alcoholism and malnutrition, tendons that looked like steel cables were running.
His pupils contracted to pinpoints, and his irises turned an eerie bright green.
"No matter how faint the sound..."
Hector turned his head to the side, the movement so fast it left a blur.
He raised his hand, and his two fingers pointed out.
"Snap."
He caught a flying fly firmly between his fingers.
The fly wasn't dead; it was still fluttering its wings in despair.
"Strength, speed, endurance... these are all bonus features."
Hector released his grip, and the fly scurried away in a panic.
"The most terrifying thing is instinct; it crams all the wearer's fighting skills and killing experience into your brain."
The green light in Hector's eyes gradually faded.
"But the price is, it wants to eat me."
Hector slumped back into his chair, picked up the now-warm beer, took a swig, and said with a wry smile, "That soul... it's roaring in my head, it craves blood, it wants to tear every living thing apart. If I don't control it, I'll become a Beast that only knows how to kill."
Yasuo watched all of this silently.
As a swordsman who had witnessed the undead of the Shadow Isles and had spent his life dealing with "inner demons," he was no stranger to this power.
"Power always comes at a price."
Yasuo fiddled with the empty wine bottle in his hand.
"If you want to ride the wind, be prepared to be torn apart. If you want to ride a tiger, be prepared to become its snack. That's fair."
"Fair? Ha!" Hector scoffed. "Perhaps."
Yasuo suddenly extended a finger and pointed at the hot potato in Hector's hand.
Aren't you afraid I'll steal it?
That question came out of nowhere.
Hector paused for a moment.
He looked up, his cloudy eyes fixed on Yasuo's face to see if the other was joking.
A few seconds later, he casually tossed the amulet onto the table with a loud clatter.
"You want it? Take it."
Hector's tone carried a sense of relief.
"People from Vought International might fight tooth and nail for this thing, but I can see you're different."
"Oh? How is it different?" Yasuo raised an eyebrow.
"Your eyes," Hector pointed to his own eyes, "Are the same as the eyes I see when I look in the mirror. It's a kind of... weariness of power, yet a look of having to use it to survive."
"Besides..."
Hector chuckled self-deprecatingly.
"This thing has a spirit. It's a picky bastard. If it doesn't approve of you, the only thing that will happen to you if you wear it is that you'll be drained dry. I believe even the ' The Unforgiven ' wouldn't want to become a dried-up corpse."
"Since you have the power, and the reason."
Yasuo leaned forward, his sharp eyes staring directly at Hector.
"Why are you still hiding in this Haozi hole? Waiting for your enemy to die of old age? Or waiting for God to suddenly appear and send down a bolt of lightning to kill your gang?"
"What you just showed me would be considered second-tier even by Vought's standards. Ordinary gangsters? Even if they had Gatling guns, they'd be nothing more than a bunch of turkeys waiting to be slaughtered in front of you."
This is what Yasuo finds most incomprehensible.
If an ordinary person chooses to swallow their anger in the face of a powerful gang, it's for survival.
But Hector is no ordinary man; he is now a tiger in human skin.
"Because this is reality, not a superhero comic."
"Those weren't just a few thugs with pistols, that was the Magia."
" The Magia?" Yasuo searched his mind for the term, but unfortunately, he knew very little about the underworld in this world.
"It seems Vought really protected you well, making you think that the world consists of supervillains and aliens."
Hector sneered, " The Magia is one of the world's largest Crime Syndicate. They control ports, drugs, human trafficking, and even have influence in parliament."
"They're not in Mexico, and they're not in New York. Their hideout, the bastard who ordered the killing of my whole family, is in Los Angeles now."
"That's the ' City of Angels,' and also the headquarters of the Maggia West Coast Branch."
Do you know how many security guards are there? Do you know how many 'freaks' like you and me they employ?
"I've tried."
Hector's voice lowered.
"Two years ago, I thought I was invincible. I stormed into a stronghold and killed dozens of people. And then? The boss in the suit didn't even show up; he just sent two bodyguards with superpowers."
Hector touched the gruesome scar on his chest.
"This scar was left by that guy called ' Tombstone.' If it weren't for the power this amulet unleashed at the last moment to protect me, I would already be a corpse."
"It's not that I'm afraid of dying, it's that I'm afraid of dying in vain. Ava's revenge hasn't been achieved yet, I can't just throw my life away like a brute."
Silence fell over the room.
Only the old incandescent light overhead flickered on and off.
One man against a vast criminal empire with extraordinary combat capabilities.
Reason told Hector that hiding here, clinging to life, and waiting for an opportunity—even if that opportunity never came—was better than going to his death now.
"Coward."
Two words were clearly uttered from Yasuo's mouth.
"What did you say?!"
I said, you're a coward.
"What are you waiting for? To master this divine skill yourself? Or to have your enemies have a change of heart and turn themselves in?"
"You say you have power but you dare not use it; you say you have hatred but you dare not retaliate. You call that caution, but I see it as fear."
"The tiger roaring in your head isn't because it wants to eat you. It's because it's angry. It's angry that its host is a sick cat who doesn't even dare to show its teeth."
"Shut up!!"
Hector roared; he'd had enough of this outsider's taunts.
"Want to fight?" Yasuo laughed, a laugh tinged with madness and glee. "Perfect, I haven't had enough to drink either."
But I have a better suggestion.
Yasuo casually tossed the empty bottle aside.
The bottle traced an arc in the air before landing precisely in the trash can by the door.
We're going to Los Angeles.
Hector froze, his murderous aura momentarily halting. "Us?"
"Anyway, I have nowhere to go. Since we're all a bunch of losers abandoned by the world, why don't we find some fun?"
Yasuo patted the longsword at his waist; it was his only companion and his only reliance.
"That guy called ' Tombstone ' sounds like he's got a tough skin. I'd love to see if his skin is tougher, or if my sword is faster."
"You're insane." Hector stared at Yasuo in disbelief. "That's suicide. There are only two of us."
"Two people?"
Yasuo held up one finger and shook it.
No, there were three people.
Who else?
Yasuo pointed to Hector's chest, where the Jade Tiger Amulet was humming due to its owner's emotional fluctuations.
"There's also a tiger."
"Besides..."
Yasuo walked out the door to the dilapidated pickup truck, slapped the hood hard, shaking off a layer of dust. "The road is long, and only my sword keeps me company. But if the journey gets too boring, a few tigers to keep me entertained won't be bad."
"Can the car be driven?"
Hector looked at the Ronin standing in the moonlight.
He still believes the decision was utterly insane and hopelessly stupid.
Reason was frantically screaming in his head, urging him to refuse and kick this madman out.
But his heart, which should have died long ago, was pounding violently.
That's the sound of blood flowing.
That was the sound of the Flame of revenge being reignited.
Hector took a deep breath, and the decadent, repairman aura was peeling off of him.
He pulled a greasy car key from his pocket; it was a one-way ticket to hell.
"Apart from the brakes being a bit responsive, everything else is fine."
"Also, that bastard's name is Count Nefaria. If I don't twist his head off and use it as a football, I'm not called White Tiger."
"Very good."
"Go with the wind, but always be mindful of what's behind you."
The engine roared to life, and the beat-up pickup truck, which made noise everywhere except for the horn, kicked up clouds of dust and plunged into the vast night.
Target: City of Angels.