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Two furious and disbelieving shouts rang out. The remaining two assassins from Laim's group stood frozen, unable to believe what they were seeing.
Andrew… got killed in one punch?
How was that even possible?
Even without transforming, Andrew's physical stats were far beyond a normal human's.
Just who the hell was this young man?
But there was no time for the two to dwell on it.
The pressure Alex exuded left them no choice—they had to act now.
With a disturbing crunching of bones, Laim and the other assassin's skeletons began shifting rapidly. Their bodies expanded, and long tufts of fur burst forth from their skin.
In mere moments, the two men were gone—replaced by two towering, bipedal wolves.
Alex blinked in surprise.
He honestly hadn't expected werewolves to exist in this world.
But if werewolves were real… then vampires probably existed too.
Suddenly, Laim's earlier mention of the "undead" clicked.
"Damn it, how are there werewolves?!"
The remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. agents turned pale.
Even Howard Stark's brows furrowed so deeply they could catch leaves in autumn.
Werewolves weren't common knowledge among civilians, but to S.H.I.E.L.D., they were no secret. Dealing with such anomalies was literally their job.
And precisely because of that, Howard knew just how bad this situation was.
You couldn't kill werewolves with ordinary weapons.
Especially not after they transformed—they became bona fide monsters.
Monstrous strength, ruthless aggression, and worse—they kept their human intelligence.
Unless you had high-powered explosives like grenades or better, even elite agents could only pray.
"Danger! Get back here, now!"
Howard couldn't help but shout a warning at Alex.
"You lot! What are you standing around for? Help him!"
He immediately barked orders at the agents beside him.
A sudden series of beastly howls drew everyone's attention.
One of the werewolves lunged at Alex, fangs bared and claws flashing like blades.
"Watch out!" Howard cried in alarm.
"Werewolf, huh? Wonder if you can take a punch from me now?"
Not only did Alex not dodge, he actually looked eager.
His shoulder tensed—and he threw a punch straight at the incoming beast.
Howard nearly jumped out of his skin.
Another familiar sound of bones snapping echoed out. The massive werewolf was blasted backward, tumbling across the floor like a ragdoll.
Its chest caved in, reduced to a pulp of mangled flesh and broken ribs. It lay motionless.
The bar fell into stunned silence.
Anton Vanko, Howard Stark, the remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. agents… every single one of them was slack-jawed.
Even if that first guy wasn't transformed… this one definitely was.
This meant Alex had just punched a full-on werewolf to death.
Even Captain America couldn't pull something like that off, right?
Howard Stark was utterly dumbfounded.
"This... this can't be real..."
Laim was even more shaken.
As a werewolf himself, he knew exactly how powerful they were.
And that was what terrified him the most.
One punch. That's all it took.
If anyone here was a monster, it wasn't the werewolves—it was this kid.
Snapping out of it, Laim made a split-second decision.
Screw Howard Stark. He spun on his heel and bolted.
But would Alex let him go?
If Alex didn't act, fine. But once he made a move, he wouldn't leave a single one alive.
He stomped down hard—
The floor shattered beneath his feet, spiderweb cracks spreading out like lightning.
The recoil launched Alex like a cannonball—he soared forward and landed right in front of the fleeing Laim.
Cutting him off completely.
Laim realized there was nowhere to run. He had no choice but to fight.
Roaring, he pounced at Alex with jaws wide and claws out.
But Alex simply reached out and grabbed him by the throat.
Laim's massive body froze mid-motion, like someone had hit pause on reality.
He thrashed, slashed wildly at Alex—but his claws only left shallow red marks, unable to even break through the skin.
Like trying to scratch steel.
Alex, meanwhile, looked quite pleased with his current durability.
"Those claws don't even compare to Sabretooth's. Now those could rip through a car like paper."
He was actually thinking about that in the middle of the fight, which said a lot about how little threat the werewolves posed to him.
Alex raised his other hand and punched Laim square in the chest.
Laim's head slumped forward. His massive frame collapsed, lifeless.
Alex casually tossed him aside like garbage.
> [Mission complete. Congratulations, host, you have received 50 Origin Points!]
At the same time, the system's prompt rang out in his mind.
Fifty Origin Points, added to his balance.
A small amount, sure—but meat is meat, even if it's just from a mosquito's leg.
Alex wasn't complaining.
He checked the system briefly. Unfortunately, 50 points weren't enough to unlock any global upgrades—he could only use them for single stat boosts.
Not surprising. Fifty points couldn't even unlock 1% of the next stage.
So he decided to let them sit for now.
He'd wait until he had more to spend in one go.
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