After his battle with the Unicorn Bison, Caius found that his accumulated magic power was just a tiny step away from advancing. He knew that his breakthrough would happen either today or tomorrow—certainly not the day after.

  Sean accelerated this process by challenging him to an arm-wrestling match. Even though the increase was merely one percent, it was enough.

  What Caius didn’t expect was just how explosive this breakthrough would be.

  He initially guessed that his advancement would land him at Silver Nine-Star or Ten-Star, at most Gold One-Star.

  Unexpectedly, he skyrocketed straight to Gold Five-Star.

  Clearly, the longer the accumulation, the greater the improvement.

  With each advancement, his Magic Core expanded significantly, allowing for an even greater reservoir of magic power.

  He believed that the next breakthrough would be even more substantial, but naturally, it would also take longer.

  The benefits of this promotion were obvious.

  Caius’s strength surged dramatically, his free magic power reached one hundred percent, and the giant’s Inheritance in his mind had unlocked some secrets, just as he expected.

  There were many interesting things he needed to digest once he got back.

  But right now, his priority was to give Sean a brutal beating.

  Of course, he wanted to kill him—Caius never showed mercy to his enemies.

  However, killing was prohibited in Ocean City, as it was in most cities. Even the notoriously chaotic Ocean City was no exception.

  So, Caius simply crushed Sean’s Iron Claw and tore it right off.

  Sean’s Iron Claw was a prosthetic, but it was connected to his arm bones, tendons, and muscles, allowing him to control its movements.

  With a sudden burst of strength, Caius ripped the Iron Claw away, taking with it Sean’s entire forearm, leaving the bones of his elbow gruesomely exposed.

  Sean let out a bloodcurdling scream.

  But before he could wail too long, his voice was abruptly cut off—Caius had grabbed him by the throat, lifting the two-hundred-pound man effortlessly with one hand.

  “I warned you,” Caius said indifferently, his gaze shifting toward the members of the Crab Gang.

  Everywhere his eyes landed, the gang members instinctively stepped back, unable to conceal the fear in their eyes.

  Their once-mighty boss, Iron Claw, now dangled helplessly in Caius’s grasp like a fragile chick. None of them dared make a move against him.

  Some, even at just a glance from Caius, dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender, showing they had no intention of fighting.

  Caius turned back to Sean, smiling faintly.

  “D-Don’t… don’t kill me… I-I was wrong…” Sean gasped, his one good hand clawing weakly at Caius’s arm.

  He struggled desperately, but Caius’s grip was unyielding, like a true Iron Claw.

  Caius shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. Look at you—was it really worth it?”

  His grip tightened, and Sean’s eyes widened in agony, looking as if they might pop out of their sockets.

  Just then, a furious voice rang out: “Move aside! What’s all this commotion?!”

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  Caius smirked.

  The enforcers had arrived.

  A group of uniformed enforcers shoved through the crowd, making their way toward him.

  The leader of the squad opened his mouth, about to berate Caius for assaulting someone in broad daylight—until he saw who Caius was holding.

  The words on his tongue took an abrupt turn. “What the he—what are you all doing?”

  Caius immediately put on a harmless, goofy smile and released Sean. “Haha, officer, this is just a misunderstanding. We were just arm-wrestling.”

  Arm-wrestling?

  The enforcer glanced at the bloody, flesh-covered Iron Claw on the ground and cursed internally.

  Did they take him for a fool?

  Since when did arm-wrestling involve tearing off someone’s arm and choking them half to death?

  But he kept his complaints to himself.

  Despite the enforcers’ outward authority—where even gang members had to give way—everyone knew they were just another cog in Ocean City’s vast gray industry.

  The enforcer recognized Sean but didn’t know who Caius was. However, anyone who could treat Sean like a ragdoll was clearly no ordinary person.

  So, instead of making trouble, he turned to Sean.

  Caius, meanwhile, slung an arm around Sean’s shoulder, grinning. “Right, bro? We were just arm-wrestling.”

  As he spoke, his large hand patted Sean’s cheek lightly—but the underlying threat was unmistakable, even the enforcer could see it.

  Sean, clutching his severed arm, shuddered under Caius’s gaze. Forcing a painful smile, he nodded repeatedly. “Y-Yeah, officer… just a friendly match… My arm broke ‘cause I’ve been eating too much seafood… My bones got brittle… Haha…”

  The enforcer: “……”

  Too much seafood made his bones brittle?

  And with blood still gushing from his wound, he could still say this with a straight face?

  But the enforcer knew how things worked. Since both men insisted it was a misunderstanding, he wasn’t about to stir up unnecessary trouble.

  “Be more careful next time,” he muttered. “Your arm-wrestling matches are a little too intense.”

  “Hehe, got it. No next time.” Caius grinned and nodded.

  Satisfied, the enforcer waved his hand. “Disperse! Nothing to see here!”

  After clearing the crowd, he gave Caius one last look before leaving.

  Caius nodded and turned back to Sean, his warm smile returning.

  “Now, about my compensation—the mental distress fee, the hammer maintenance fee, the additional task delay fee, and the nail restoration fee…”

  “I’ll pay… I’ll pay…” Sean quickly nodded.

  Caius tapped his chin, as if calculating. “How much was it again?”

  “O-One thousand gold?” Sean hesitated.

  “Hmm?” Caius raised an eyebrow, his hand creeping toward Sean’s neck again.

  Sean panicked. “Two thousand! I-I meant two thousand!”

  Caius clicked his tongue and held up his hand. “Look at my nails—your claw scratched them. You know how expensive manicures are these days.”

  Sean: “……”

  That was just a faint white mark—it’d disappear with a bit of spit!

  And why would a six-foot-six brute like you care about manicures?!

  But Sean didn’t dare complain. He knew Caius was squeezing him dry.

  Clenching his teeth, he said, “Three thousand… That’s all I have left.”

  “Hah?” Caius sneered, his expression turning rogueish. “A gang boss this broke?”

  “Big bro, feeding over two hundred subordinates isn’t cheap,” Sean whined. “And I have a Mercenary Tavern to run—it barely makes any profit, just a front for business expansion. Most of the earnings go straight to the inner city. I only get the scraps… Saving three thousand gold was hard enough…”

  Caius had no interest in Sean’s sob story. “Fine, three thousand it is. Have your men fetch it. Once I see the money, you can go.”

  Sean hurriedly ordered his men to bring the money.

  His subordinates, though hesitant, didn’t flee with the cash. Soon, a locked chest was brought over on a cart.

  Sean opened the chest with a pained expression.

  It was filled to the brim with gold coins.

  Caius weighed the sacks—three thousand gold, maybe a little extra, but not much.

  Sean, pale and sweating, forced a smile. “Big bro, now can I—”

  “Scram.”

  “Yes!” Sean, feeling like he’d escaped death, turned to leave with his men.

  “Wait,” Caius’s voice halted him.

  Sean trembled all over, then turned his head shakily. "Big bro, do you have any other instructions?"

  Caius pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a few puffs, and then walked up to Sean.

  At this moment, Sean was hunched over in pain, looking like a fat wild dog.

  Standing tall, Caius kept his hands in his pockets, bent down slightly, and blew a puff of smoke into Sean’ face.

  Sean' eyes stung, and the corners of his mouth twitched, but he could only maintain his fawning smile.

  "If you want revenge, I'm always ready. But next time, I'll tear down both you and that so-called umbrella protecting the Inner City."

  "I wouldn’t dare... I wouldn’t dare..." Sean lowered his head, not daring to meet Caius's aggressive gaze.

  "You better not." Caius patted him on the shoulder, then grinned. "And just so you know, I have people backing me up too."

  "Ever heard of the Windchanter?"

  Sean’ head snapped up instantly, staring at Caius in disbelief.

  "Looks like you have." Caius smiled, saying no more.

  "Alright, get lost."

  Watching Sean and his men flee in embarrassment, Caius took one last drag from his cigarette and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

  Of course, he had no connection whatsoever with Mel, the Windchanter and lord of Grilla City.

  He was just borrowing the name to intimidate people.

  This way, if Sean or his so-called 'umbrella' wanted revenge, they’d have to think twice.

  It would save him a lot of trouble.

  And even if they found out the truth, it didn’t matter—he could handle it.

  Before long, he finished his cigarette.

  Caius turned toward Nick, who stood not far away, and flashed a friendly smile. "Boss Nick, I’m here to deliver the task."