Dreadwolf, Lord of Runes

Cloaked in shadow and sword in hand, the boy stepped into the somewhat brighter intersection where the Walton brothers were frantically searching for clues about the beastling’s location.

“Dammit, she’s not here!” the smart one cursed, angrily pointing at his brothers. “You two, spread out! She can’t have gone back the way we came, so if we all head down one of these remaining three alleys, we can surely find her!”

That's when he noticed a mass of murky shadows standing just a few steps away. “Crap…” he muttered, fear entering his gaze. All his earlier bravado drained away almost instantly.

“G— Good day, Sir Mystic, sir. How can we humble brothers help you?” he stammered, cautiously eyeing the cloud, hoping that whoever was inside didn’t know about the beastling girl.

The other two thugs quickly noticed the moving shadows as well and assumed defensive stances, drawing futuristic yet clearly cheap ballistic handguns from their backs. A mixture of fear and defiance shone in their eyes.

“M— Mystic!” one of them muttered, his hand trembling around the weapon in his hand.

Their leader was quick to reprimand them in a hissing tone, “What are you idiots doing?! Do you want to fight a Mystic?! Did you get some cybernetics implanted when I wasn’t looking?! Stand the fuck down!”

“B— Bro!” one of the brothers responded anxiously. “W— We can't just give up on the girl! We was finally gonna get some chrome so we ain't gotta be dregs no more!”

The Walton brothers eyed the boy with a mixture of fear and defiance, a common reaction from dregs like them—non-Cybers and non-Mystics at the bottom of society’s ladder.

Cybers and Mystics were equals, at least in relative terms. Although there were far more Cybers than Mystics, everyone knew that the actual power balance between the two groups was more or less equal. Dregs, however, were what amounted to regular, everyday humans.

Cybers were usually those without the necessary talent to become Mystics but had the resources to replace organic parts with powerful cybernetics that allowed them to stand on somewhat equal terms with Mystics.

Mystics, on the other hand, were those with the talent to harness the natural power in the world through mystical techniques, enabling them to utilize special abilities and rise above their peers.

“You idiot!” the leading brother exclaimed. “What if he didn’t know about the girl yet, huh?!”

At that moment, the boy dispelled his shadows and revealed his appearance to the dim light. His expression was almost bored, and the sword rested on his shoulder. After appearing, he shrugged, “I already knew about the girl. Why else do you think I’m here?”

One of the dumber brothers blinked in surprise before exclaiming, “The Mystic's just a lad!” as most of the fear in his eyes vanished.

“And what the fuck does that matter?!” the smart one cried out, feeling the urge to strangle his brother. “He’s clearly passed the Core Awakening stage, so that means he’s a Mystic and out of our league! Now shut your trap and let me handle this!”

Turning to the bored boy in front of them, a sickeningly ingratiating smile graced his ugly face.

“Please don’t listen to my muscle-headed brother, Sir Mystic" he pleaded. "Since he has no use for his brain, he’s decided to give up on thinking and just get more muscles instead! You know how it is. O— Or perhaps not. Anyway, what can we humble brothers do for you?”

Most Mystic guilds across the city and the world offered awakenings to anyone above the age of ten, provided they had sufficient talent. In return, the newly awakened Mystic would join that guild.

Most people would take the chance and head to one of the guilds at some point in their lives. Being a Mystic offered an opportunity to live a decent life and be lifted from the slums together with their family.

It was one of the reasons so many families in the slums had more children than they could reasonably support. They were, essentially, rolling the dice.

If your talent was found to be lacking, however, you could still become a Cyber at the age of eighteen.

Provided, of course, you had the money to buy cybernetics, the willingness to sign predatory contracts with someone unscrupulous enough, like the military, or the opportunity and lack of morals needed to join one of the criminal syndicates.

Technically, you could become a Cyber before eighteen, but it wasn’t practical. The body was still growing, and replacing cybernetics every half a year was an expense even those living in the inner districts would find hard to swallow.

In the beginning, a small number of people tried to follow both paths, but it always ended in failure. Every implant and limb replacement lowered a person’s affinity for natural energy. Even if they were talented before, one or two pieces of chrome would render them no more talented than the average dreg.

The boy looked around at the three brothers and smirked at the mixture of defiance, aggression, fear, and submission on their faces. If they weren't so insignificant, he would relish his power over them.

Such were the effects Mystics had on most dregs.

In fact, he saw the same expression on the faces of the many dregs gathered around the spectacle, either watching from windows or standing in the surrounding alleys.

“I don’t need much from you,” the boy said, his gaze calmly sweeping the area. “I just need to make a little offering to a certain someone…” He chuckled as his gaze lingered on the window where he knew the little beastling girl was hiding.

“What uhm— What do you mean, S—” the leader began, but quickly stopped when he saw the boy reactivating his cloak of shadows.

“Crap!” the man exclaimed, knowing there was only one reason for the boy to reactivate his technique.

They were in for a fight.

“Shoot! Shoot, you idiots!” he cried out to his brothers. At the same time, he drew a gun and started unloading into the shadow, followed by his muscle-headed brothers.

The surrounding dregs immediately lost interest and panicked, quickly running for cover. Fear had replaced curiosity.

Unfortunately, the brothers’ efforts were useless.

There was a reason only Cybers stood a chance against Mystics.

Through a combination of supernatural speed, agility, and shadowy misdirection, the boy easily dodged the inaccurate bullets flying at him. Once clear, it took him mere moments to close the distance between him and the closest brother.

A thudding echoed, and the man was already down.

The other two brothers cursed and panicked, but it was useless. Less than half a minute after the so-called fight started, all three were on the ground, and the boy stood in the middle, sheathing his clean blade. “Idiots…” he mumbled; boredom clear in his voice.

Surprisingly, however, the thugs weren’t dead, only unconscious. The boy had used the flat side of his blade.

“I have other plans for you,” the boy chuckled as he took out a few pieces of rope from his jacket.