At the same time, the system quietly registered another observation in the corner of his mind.

Amelia Don’s appearance scored well above an 8.5.

Viable Binding Target Detected.

Stan acknowledged the notification without outward reaction.

One of the men stepped forward.

A red dragon tattoo curled along his forearm, disappearing beneath the sleeve of his jacket.

"Kid," he said coldly, "mind your own business."

His voice carried the practiced menace of someone accustomed to intimidating people into compliance.

"Some things are above your pay grade. Turn around, walk out, and we won’t hurt you."

The others backed the threat with aggressive looks and muttered agreement, but Stan could already see the instability underneath their bravado.

Their plan had been carefully arranged.

Drug the target.

Move her somewhere isolated.

Finish things quietly.

The fact that a complete stranger had found them at all had already rattled them badly. And without guns, they had no fast or reliable way to regain control of a situation that had suddenly tilted against them.

On the floor, Amelia’s heart tightened painfully.

The thing terrifying her most in that moment wasn’t the men.

It was the possibility that Stan might actually accept their offer and leave.

"Save me..." she pleaded weakly. "Don’t go... only you can save me... please..."

Stan was the last barrier between her and the worst night of her life.

If he walked away, she already knew exactly what would happen next.

"I’ll agree to anything," she blurted out desperately before Stan could even respond. "Anything you want. Just save me."

She didn’t need to say it.

He had already made his decision the moment he followed the van.

Stan’s expression remained calm.

"I’m a responsible person," he said evenly. "It’s fate that we crossed paths tonight."

His voice was steady enough that, despite the terror and drugs clouding her thoughts, Amelia felt herself calming slightly just hearing it.

"Don’t worry," he continued. "I’m getting you out of here."

At the same moment, Stan silently instructed the system to bind her.

The reassurance in his words served two purposes at once — calming Amelia emotionally while naturally pushing her perception of him higher.

[Amelia Don: Favorability 20]

[Amelia Don: Favorability 40]

[Amelia Don: Favorability 55]

’So her name is Amelia Don,’ Stan thought as the system notification appeared in his vision.

The favorability had crossed fifty faster than with anyone he had ever bound before.

He noted it with quiet interest.

Across the room, the tattooed man’s expression darkened. His jaw tightened as he slowly licked his upper lip.

"You’re asking to die."

He gestured sharply toward Stan.

"Take him."

All five men moved at once.

There was no hesitation or restraint.

Against an ordinary person, the rush would have been overwhelming.

Stan, however, was no longer ordinary.

The instant they charged, the world seemed to slow around him — not literally, but in the strange way superior reflexes distorted perception. Every movement became readable before it fully happened.

He saw shoulders tighten before punches launched.

Saw shifts in weight before kicks. Saw intent before action.

The first man reached him.

Stan drove a kick into his chest hard enough to send him crashing backward onto the concrete floor.

A second punch came immediately afterward.

Stan caught the man’s fist in one hand almost casually.

Then he tightened his grip.

A sharp crack echoed through the room.

The man’s forearm snapped with horrifying ease, like dry wood breaking under pressure.

Stan himself registered the sensation with mild disbelief.

’It’s as if they were Barely any resistance at all. As if his bone was hard biscuits...’ he was looking at his fist in mild surprise when the remaining men came at him together.

Stan moved through them with ruthless efficiency.

There was no wasted movement or panic. No unnecessary effort.

One collapsed after a strike to the stomach that knocked the air from his lungs.

Another hit the wall hard enough to stay down.

The tattooed man himself managed to swing a metal pipe before Stan ripped it from his hands and drove him face-first into the floor.

Less than three minutes later, it was over.

The room fell silent except for groans of pain.

All six men lay scattered across the concrete in various states of injury, none of them capable of standing again anytime soon.

Stan glanced around at them, genuinely surprised.

"That’s it?"

He hadn’t even come close to pushing himself.

"Weak." 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

It wasn’t that the men were harmless.

Against a normal person, they would have been dangerous, brutal opponents.

The problem was simply that Stan now existed in an entirely different category of physical ability than they did.

He crossed the room toward Amelia and crouched beside her.

Up close, he could see her trembling from adrenaline, fear, and whatever lingering effects remained from the drug in her system.

Stan carefully untied the ropes around her wrists.

"It’s alright now," he said quietly.

The moment the restraints fell away, the system notifications began appearing rapidly.

[Amelia Don: Favorability 60]

[Amelia Don: Favorability 70]

[Amelia Don: Favorability 80]

[Amelia Don: Favorability 103]

Stan blinked once. ’Over one hundred already. That’s a first!’

That was past the threshold for the ten-times rebate tier.

Then another notification appeared.

[Ding! Host — additional rewards become available once favorability exceeds 120.]

Stan’s attention sharpened slightly.

’An additional reward. Now that was interesting.’

Partly because it was true — and partly because he understood exactly how perception worked in moments like this — he allowed a faint trace of casual disdain into his voice as he glanced at the men sprawled across the floor.

"I’ve trained since I was a child," he said calmly. "People like them..."

He gave the tattooed man a dismissive look.

"...aren’t worth getting serious about."

Another notification appeared almost instantly.

[Amelia Don: Favorability 106]

The number climbed again.

Amelia opened her mouth as if to say something, but then her eyelids suddenly grew heavy.

The drug in her system, the adrenaline, the sheer emotional collapse after surviving the ordeal all crashed into her at once. Her body had been holding itself together through pure fear and desperate willpower. Now that it finally recognized safety, it simply gave out.

She slumped forward. But Stan was at alert, so he caught her before she hit the ground.