Ethan closed the distance in a few calm steps, his shadow falling over the guy still grumbling at the punching bag relentlessly. Without a word, he reached out and gave the guy a light soft tap on the shoulder.
"Hey."
The underling spun around fast, already snapping, "What the hell do y—"
But the words never finished.
His eyes widened the moment he saw who was standing in front of him.
Ethan stood there, relaxed, his other hand in his pockets, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
"You—!?"
The underling stumbled backward so quickly his foot caught on the edge of a mat laying on the floor and he fell straight on his butt with a soft thud.
A moment of silence.
Then Ethan leaned slightly forward and said, "Didn't know I was that scary. You alright down there, champ?"
The underling scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off, trying to recover even a shred of dignity. His lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came out. His pride and fear were clearly clashing hard inside his head.
Ethan took a step closer, speaking casually, "Relax, I'm not here to fight."
He paused, then added with a little grin, "Unless you want to. In that case, you will leave me with no choice"
The underling flinched.
"Nah," Ethan said, turning slightly and nodding toward the door, "just step outside for a minute. I wanna talk. That's all."
The guy hesitated.
Ethan tilted his head with a mocking smile. "What? Scared of a little conversation now?"
Red-faced, the underling clenched his fists but ultimately nodded and followed behind, clearly uneasy. Ethan led the way out of the gym with calm, unhurried steps
Outside the gym, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the quiet path behind the building.
Ethan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while the Iron Fang underling stood awkwardly a few feet away, shifting his weight like he was ready to bolt at any second.
"So," Ethan started casually, "you gonna tell me who you answer to, or do I have to start playing guessing games?"
The guy clenched his jaw, eyes darting sideways. "I don't talk to people like you."
Ethan raised a brow. "People like me?" He smirked. "You mean people who make you trip over your own feet just by showing up?"
The guy tensed but said nothing.
Ethan took a slow step forward, hands still in his pockets.
"Come on, don't be shy. You were throwing hands with a punching bag a few minutes ago, screaming something about showing me who's boss. That confidence disappeared quick."
"Shut up," the underling muttered under his breath.
Ethan tilted his head, letting out a small laugh. "You know, I've met stray dogs with more backbone."
That seemed to hit a nerve. The guy suddenly snapped, "It's Rex, okay?! I work for Rex! One of the Iron Fang executives."
Ethan's smile faded slightly.
The guy stepped forward now, voice shaky but louder, "Yeah, you should be hiding in your closet by now! What you did last time? Rex already heard about it. You're on his radar, idiot."
Ethan stared at him, quiet for a moment. Then he scratched the back of his head and exhaled. "Well… that's just great."
He looked off to the side, mumbling to himself, "So much for keeping a low profile. Guess I haven't pissed him off enough if I'm still breathing."
Then his eyes dropped back on the guy standing there, all puffed up trying to look threatening again.
A small grin crept back onto Ethan's face. "Oh. Right. I lied earlier, by the way."
The underling blinked. "Huh?"
"I said I didn't come to fight." Ethan took one step forward, the grin widening into something almost playful.
"But I need a message delivered."
The underling started backing up, eyes widening.
Ethan's voice dropped into a cocky whisper. "So I'm going to beat you up now. And you're gonna go crawling back to your boss with the story."
The guy turned to run—but Ethan already moved.
The guy turned to run—but he barely made a step before Ethan grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him backwards with force.
Thud!
The underling crashed to the floor hard, coughing from the impact, but he didn't get the chance to recover. Ethan dropped to one knee over him and, in a flash, mounted him, pinning his shoulders down.
His face was stone cold—no anger, no fury. Just silence.
Crack!
Ethan's fist crashed into the guy's jaw.
Crack! Thud! Smack!
Left, right, both hands striking with brutal rhythm. The underling brought up his arms to block, panic flashing in his eyes, but the hits didn't stop. Ethan shifted his weight, broke through his defense like it wasn't even there.
Blow after blow, he pummeled him without pause.
There was no sound from Ethan. Just his fists doing the talking.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Blood spattered. The guy's arms fell limply to the sides, unable to keep up. His head turned slightly as another hit rocked his cheek. He coughed out, dazed, barely able to think—but in that moment, he managed to look up at Ethan's face.
His eyes locked with Ethan's—empty, cold, mechanical.
There was no emotion behind them. Not joy. Not rage. Just... nothing.
What is this guy...? the underling thought, barely able to string his thoughts together through the haze of pain.
His eyes... there's nothing in them.
His heart pounded as fear overtook his pain.
Monster, he thought, trembling. This guy's a monster...
Ethan still hadn't said a word.
Each punch was calculated, calm, as if he wasn't hurting a person but finishing a task. The kind of gaze you'd expect from someone swatting a fly—indifferent and focused.
Finally, after a few more hits, Ethan who was lost got back to his senses, breathing steady he got off the guy confused at what happened. The guy beneath him was groaning, barely conscious, blood smeared across his cheek and dripping from his nose.
Ethan stood up, brushed off his fists, and stared down at his hands covered with blood and spared a glance at the underling seeing him all covered in blood.
"What the hell just happened" Ethan said in confusion
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