Marcus Scavenger's face contorted, his calm facade shattering into a mask of cold, concentrated fury. "My patriarch may have said we should avoid direct conflict with you, but I have the prestige of the Scavenger family to uphold. You have crossed a line that cannot be ignored," said Marcus.

Ethan ignored him. He turned his back, a move of utter contempt, and reached down to unbuckle the leather straps holding Sparks to the chair. He could feel her shallow breathing, a faint puff of air against his hand. But as he went to lift her, the air behind him hissed.

Without looking, Ethan spun on his heel. His hand shot out, catching Marcus's wrist in mid-air. The grip was iron-tight, a clash of raw power that made the dust on the floor swirl.

"You're quite strong," said Marcus, a dark, predatory smile spreading across his lips. "I suppose that's why you think you're special."

With a sudden, violent jerk, Marcus didn't pull away—he flexed. He gripped the silver shackles on his wrists, and with a sharp crack, the thick metal links snapped like glass.

"I am no prisoner, Blake," said Marcus, his refined appearance suddenly radiating a terrifying pressure. "Since I was a child, I couldn't help but break everyone I touched. These were placed on me to limit my strength, to keep me from destroying everything around me. But now that I've released them, I'll show you the true difference between a common fighter and a Scavenger."

The man moved. Despite his sophisticated look and average build, Marcus was a veteran of a thousand hidden wars. He lunged within the narrow confines of the cell, his strikes coming with the speed of a viper.

Ethan instantly activated [Celestial Qi Resonance Scan]. The world slowed to a crawl; he could see the minute shifts in Marcus's muscles and predict the trajectory of every strike. He swayed his head, the first punch whistling past his ear and denting the steel door behind him.

Ethan countered immediately. He stepped into Marcus's guard, his hands moving in the fluid, lethal patterns of the Dao Martial Technique of the Fist. He struck with precision, his knuckles hitting vital pressure points in Marcus's chest and shoulders.

Marcus grunted, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't falter. He was incredibly experienced, using the small space to his advantage to corner Ethan against the interrogation table. He threw a heavy, short-range hook that Ethan couldn't fully dodge.

Ethan braced himself, his skin turning Hard as Steel. The blow landed with a metallic thud against his forearm. The impact was massive, vibrating through Ethan's bones, but his skin remained unbroken.

"You're fast, but you're trapped," said Marcus, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the hunt.

"I'm not the one trapped in here with a monster," Ethan said the young man.

Ethan grabbed Marcus's lapel and delivered a devastating knee to his midsection, followed by a series of lightning-fast strikes to the man's throat and jaw.

Marcus's refined composure finally snapped. His eyes turned bloodshot, and his breathing became a jagged, animalistic snarl. He looked past Ethan at the slumped, unconscious form of Agent Sparks and realized that Ethan's biggest strength in this moment was also his greatest vulnerability.

With a wicked grin, Marcus launched a devastating straight punch—not at Ethan's head, but aimed directly at Sparks's throat.

Ethan's eyes widened. He didn't have time to deflect it away. He threw himself in front of her, his back becoming a human shield. Marcus's fist slammed into Ethan's shoulder with enough force to crack the stone floor beneath his feet.

"What's the matter, Blake? Too scared to move?" said Marcus, his voice dripping with malice.

Seeing that Ethan refused to budge from his position, Marcus began a relentless barrage of strikes. He abandoned all refined technique, becoming a bloodthirsty beast. He rained blows down on Ethan's chest, arms, and head, knowing that Ethan wouldn't dodge because any movement would leave the broken officer behind him exposed to the crossfire.

Ethan stood his ground, his body vibrating with the impact of every hit. He kept his skin Hard as Steel, but even that couldn't stop the internal jarring of such massive force. He took a heavy blow to the ribs, then another to the jaw, his blood splatting against the cold floor.

"Look at you! The great Ethan Blake, reduced to a punching bag for a dead girl!" said Marcus, laughing as he delivered a brutal kick to Ethan's midsection.

Ethan didn't say a word. He stood like an unbreakable mountain, his arms wrapped protectively around the chair, shielding Sparks from every shockwave.

His Qi began to churn with a violet intensity that made the air in the cramped cell hum with static. Every punch he took was like adding fuel to a furnace. His eyes, usually a calm but piercing grey, were now glowing with a terrifying, luminescent purple.

"Are you done?" Ethan asked to Scavenger.

"I gave you a chance to walk away with your dignity," Ethan said the leader. "Now, I'm going to make sure the Scavenger family has to identify you by your dental records."

Marcus, sensing a shift, tried to redouble his assault, but it was too late. The volcano had erupted.

Ethan's body began to crackle with an intense, violet-blue energy. His muscles, strained from the relentless beating, surged with newfound power. His eyes, now twin pools of glowing purple, were locked onto Marcus. The air itself began to vibrate, charged with an elemental force.

"You had your fun," Ethan said the leader, his voice now a low growl that resonated with raw power. "Now, it's my turn."

He didn't move from his defensive position, still shielding Sparks. Instead, he channeled all the building fury.

His right fist, coated in crackling, arcs of pure electrical energy, shot forward. This was the Elemental Control: Lightning Style unleashed. It wasn't a technique of finesse or precision; it was a pure, unadulterated release of destructive force.

The punch connected with Marcus's chest.

There was no sound of flesh on flesh, no mere thud. Instead, a blinding flash of violet lightning erupted, followed by a thunderous CRACK that seemed to rip the air apart. Marcus's body stiffened, every muscle locking as if frozen in time. A high-pitched scream tore from his throat, but it was quickly cut short as his entire form convulsed violently.

Smoke began to curl from Marcus's uniform. His eyes rolled back in his head, and a burnt smell filled the small cell. He fell backward, hitting the concrete wall with a sickening wet thud before collapsing to the floor in a twitching, smoking heap. His body was still, but the faint smell of ozone hung heavy in the air.

Ethan stood there, his fist still smoking slightly, his chest heaving, but his expression was one of cold, unwavering finality. Sparks was safe, shielded behind him, completely unaware of the storm she had just been protected from.

He turned, the glow fading from his eyes, and began to carefully unbind Agent Sparks from the chair.

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