The Traveling Medics didn't hesitate. They had already made up their minds.
Dr. Cal shook his head, glancing at the Little Finger safe zone. "We're splitting up here. We're doctors not fighters."
Bob raised a brow. "Didn't even invite you."
"Exactly," Lynn Aster sighed, adjusting the straps on her med kit. "You're about to do something stupid. And I still haven't recovered from the metro."
Gabe took a step forward, glancing at Dr. Cal. "Listen, Doc. If you really want to help people, you should join The Web. It's a network—people like us, fighting against this chaos, sharing intel, medical expertise, survival tactics. You and your team would be a huge asset."
Dr. Cal didn't even hesitate. "Fine. We're in."
Gabe blinked. "That… was fast."
Dr. Cal adjusted his bag. "I'm a doctor. I help people. If The Web lets me do that on a larger scale, then I don't need convincing."
Lynn smirked. "And we'd rather be patching up people who don't get themselves into nightmare car chases and fights with apocalyptic monsters."
Gabe sighed. "Got it. But hey, at least now The Web has actual doctors. Could've used that sooner, considering how often Bob gets himself half-killed."
Bob stretched, smirking. "Yeah, but then I'd have nothing to complain about."
Lynn shook her head. "You don't complain. You just get up like nothing happened."
"Exactly." Bob grinned. "Unstoppable."
Sly rolled his eyes. "More like too dumb to die."
With that, the Medics vanished into the safe zone, making their exit.
Bob's crew stayed behind. Waiting.
The Little Finger forces were still outside, likely making their way back from their battle with the Red Hands. Bob didn't want to fight them while they were still in Glint form.
He wanted them tired. Vulnerable. Weak.
And as expected, the remaining cartel members returned.
They looked exhausted, their bodies battered from their recent battle. They didn't even know Bob's crew was in their territory.
Their morale was shattered. Their leader was dead.
Bob's eyes narrowed as he recognized what they were carrying.
At the center of the group, several cartel members hauled the lifeless, incomplete body of their leader, Veyron.
What actually happened when a Glint or Fade died in battle? The answer depended on their strength and the thickness of the surrounding Fog. Over time, the body would begin to dissolve, turning to dust. The stronger the transformation, the longer the process took.
Veyron was already in pieces, but even now, faint glows pulsed from the scattered parts of his body. It would take time for them to fully break down.
Around him, other fallen cartel members were carried in solemn silence.
It was clear their plan was to honor and bury them near the safe zone. Letting them dissolve in the open would be seen as disgraceful. These were not just soldiers. They were cartel family.
Just as Bob predicted, the moment they crossed into their safe zone, their Glints shut down, returning them to their human forms.
Bob watched from the shadows.
Now they were exposed.
Now they couldn't transform on command.
Now... it was time to end them.
Bob crouched behind the remains of an alleyway, watching the cartel members return to their base. He had an idea.
A very, very stupid idea.
"Okay," Bob muttered, eyeing his pickup truck. The body was dented, the windshield cracked, and the engine rattled with every movement. After the Metro run, it looked like it had been through a war. If it wasn't broken now, it would be soon. "Let's make this easy."
He turned to his crew. Gabe was already frowning.
"Wait... Bob. No. This is stupid, even for you."
Bob cracked his knuckles. "You want to deal with all of them, or none of them?"
Sly narrowed his eyes. "What exactly are you doing?"
Bob gave him a blank look. "Fixing the odds."
Iris tilted her head, curious. "You're serious?"
Bob nodded. "Dead serious."
Gabe groaned. "This is going to be something really dumb, isn't it?"
Sly ran a hand down his face. "Whatever it is, I already hate it."
Iris exhaled and gripped her spear. "He hasn't let us down yet. Just let him do it."
Bob started loading the truck. No one questioned the items he threw in. Canisters. Containers. Straps. Ropes. It all looked chaotic, but he moved with purpose.
Gabe helped secure the last of it, still shaking his head. "We're really doing this."
Bob climbed into the driver's seat. "Once this moves, stay low and follow the plan."
He lit a rag, then tossed it onto something hidden in the back. Flames flickered to life.
The truck jerked forward and rolled out of the alley, picking up speed as it rumbled toward the center of the cartel zone.
From a distance, the cartel guards turned, confused at the sight of the beat-up vehicle rolling straight at them.
None of them knew what was coming.
Lucian, the new leader of the Little Finger Cartel, stood on the balcony overlooking the compound. His eyes locked onto the speeding truck coming straight toward the center of the safe zone.
"Wait. Who is that?!"
Bob didn't respond. He pressed the gas pedal harder.
The truck flew across the open ground, flames already climbing the fuse trailing from the back. Just before impact, Bob jumped out, rolled across the pavement, and hit the ground hard.
BOOM!
The explosion struck the Meteor Fragment at the heart of the safe zone. The blast sent shockwaves in every direction, tearing through the ground and nearby structures.
A chain reaction followed.
The fire spread fast, reaching the cartel's drug laboratory. Equipment, chemicals, and supplies exploded in rapid bursts. Walls collapsed. Flames swallowed the entire operation.
That was the plan.
Bob didn't want to fight. He wanted to end it in one strike. The truck was loaded with gasoline and turned into a bomb. Its target was the safe zone's Meteor Fragment, which kept the Pink Fog from entering and protected the zone's stability.
Lucian watched everything burn.
Their protection was gone. Their lab was gone. The safe zone was collapsing from the inside.
Bob stood up, brushing the dust off his arms. "Well. That worked."
Gabe stared at him. "You're insane."
Sly let out a low whistle. "I can't even be mad. That was... effective."
Iris sighed, her voice dry. "And we're still alive. So I guess it's a success."
Behind them, the Little Finger Cartel's safe zone was gone.
The explosions hadn't stopped completely.
Crack. Boom. Fwoom.
The shockwaves continued to ripple through the compound. One of the watchtowers tilted, then groaned as its support beams gave out. It collapsed in a burst of dust and debris, crashing down over the shattered remnants of the central drug lab.
A wall gave in next, toppling slowly before smashing into a nearby structure. Flames licked the edges of fallen debris, dancing wildly as smaller blasts triggered from inside the wreckage.
Then the Pink Fog reached the center.
It poured in steadily, creeping over broken roads and torn buildings like a slow, living tide. Where it touched, the smoke disappeared. Craters, bodies, and scattered equipment were swallowed by the mist, vanishing into the dense pink haze.
The safe zone had become a graveyard. Everything that once made this place powerful was being erased in front of their eyes.
Then the killing started.
The moment the Fog touched Bob, his body responded. Muscles flexed. Skin hardened. His bones shifted and grew. In seconds, the Goliath stood tall, fully awakened.
The cartel survivors weren't so fortunate.
Still in human form, they stumbled through the ruins. Coughing. Bleeding. Disoriented. Some reached for weapons, others fumbled to activate their Glint forms.
But transformation took time.
Time Bob wasn't about to give them.
He moved.
His first victim didn't even have time to scream. Bob's fist struck clean, caving in the man's chest and dropping him instantly.
Some of the cartel members recognized him. Their eyes widened with panic.
"That's him. The one who fought the Red Hands!"
"What is he doing here? Why is he destroying everything?"
Others had no clue who he was. Their fear turned into desperate bargaining.
"Wait. We can talk. We have supplies. We can trade!"
"You don't have to do this! Please!"
Bob didn't answer. He wasn't here to talk. He wasn't here to make deals.
He was here to wipe this place out.
Even without their Glints, the cartel members were stronger than normal people. But to Bob, in full Goliath form, they were paper.
Bob stomped forward, pointing a thick finger at the few survivors still backing away.
"Now, now. What did I say about selling poison to people?" His voice was calm, almost scolding. "That's a big no-no."
A man tried to run. Bob grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him into the air like luggage.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say... won't matter."
He flung the man into a collapsed building. The body hit hard, then crumpled into the dust.
Another enforcer dropped to his knees, trembling. "Please. I have a family."
Bob cracked his knuckles. "So did the people you sold Pink Dust to."
Guess what. Court's in session."
Bob raised his fist.
"Verdict's in."
He slammed it into the ground.
"Guilty!"
The shockwave tore through the earth, splitting the stone beneath their feet. Cartel bodies launched into the air, screaming as they disappeared into the fog above.
Bob stood in the center of the destruction, unmoved.
Their safe zone was gone.
Now, so were they.