Then suddenly the air in the vents didn't just rattle; it hissed. A wet, rhythmic scraping sound echoed through the metal ducting, growing louder by the second. Then, the first of them emerged—Silk Stalkers.

  Their multi-jointed limbs hit the floor with the sound of knives on tile. They were nightmares woven from obsidian chitin and milky-white webbing, their many eyes reflecting the terror on the kids' faces.

  While the kids felt their hearts hammering against their ribs, the Mayor looked like he was watching a mildly interesting street performance. He let out a low, appreciative whistle.

  "Man, they let the puppies out," he chuckled, leaning back. "They’re definitely taking you seriously, kids. Be proud!"

  Ren’s fear spiked into pure, unadulterated rage. "Fuck proud and shit!" he snapped, his voice cracking with the strain. "Do something!"

  The Mayor’s expression shifted to one of mock offense. "Language, Ren! Honestly, where do you pick these things from?" He sighed, though he muttered under his breath, "Inherited it from his mother, no doubt. Just as foul-mouthed as that annoying woman..."

  The Mayor then straightened his coat, his smirk returning as he looked at the three trembling youths. To him, this wasn't a slaughter—it was a syllabus.

  Kids this is a rare and profound teaching moment," the Mayor declared. "Consider it a crash course in the 'Danger of the World.' Sink or swim, little birds."

  And don't worry about the other two For Albert This is just an another Tuesday Routine work for a man of his... talents."

  As for the detective don't worry She’ll be fine She is her mother and father’s daughter, after all. It’s in the blood."

  So you should just focus on yourself and learn and try to survive from this experience

  Then mayor checked his watch and cracked his knuckles. "As for me? I’m just warming up. Someone has to prepare for the boss fight, right?"

  The Silk Stalkers began to circle, their abdomens pulsing as they prepared to spray binding silk. The "teaching moment" had officially begun, and the Mayor didn't look like he was planning to hand out any hall passes.

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  The metallic scent of old blood and ozone filled the air as the first Silk Stalker detached itself from the vent, its chittering echoing against the sterile walls. This wasn't a skirmish; it was a trial by fire.

  As the creatures lunged, the group fell into a desperate, fractured defensive line.

  The four of them reacted with the frantic energy of the cornered, each displaying the core of their character under pressure.

  Ren: He didn't have a weapon, so he used the environment. He ripped a heavy IV stand from its base, swinging the weighted metal pole like a madman. He wasn't aiming for vitals; he was just keeping the snapping mandibles at bay with sheer, stubborn aggression.

  Elena: Unlike Ren’s chaos, Elena was precise. She used a heavy medical briefcase as a shield, timing her bashes to intercept the Stalkers' silk-spraying glands. She moved with a calculated grace that suggested she’d been trained for "emergencies" since she could walk.

  Kael : He was the anchor. Using his larger frame, he intercepted a Stalker mid-leap, catching its chitinous leg and slamming the creature into a concrete pillar. His breath was heavy, his eyes darting to ensure Elena wasn't flanked.

  The Inquisitor: She was the only one with a firearm, but she wasn't wasting bullets. She used the butt of her pistol to crack a Stalker’s sensory antennae, saving her rounds for the moment a kill-shot was guaranteed.

  Leaning against a nearby console, the Mayor looked like a man watching a Sunday scrimmage. He tapped his chin, his voice carrying clearly over the screeching of the monsters.

  "Oh, look at Ren! Pure, unrefined spite. He’s swinging that pole like he’s trying to kill the air itself. Effective for five minutes, but he’ll be gasping for air in ten. Grade: C+ for effort, F for stamina."

  He shifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing with a smirk.

  "Elena... now that’s lineage. See how she guards her vitals? She’s playing the long game. And Kael the loyal hound. He’s more worried about her than himself. A noble weakness, really. It’ll get him killed one day, but it’s charming for now."

  He finally landed on the Detective.

  "And our Law-Woman. She’s stingy with the lead. Smart. She knows these 'puppies' are just the appetizers. She’s saving the main course for the big show. Grade: A- for pragmatism."

  Standing a few paces behind the Mayor, Arthur watched the carnage, then looked at the man giving the commentary. He let out a long, weary sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  "Must you always do this?" Arthur muttered, his voice thick with a mix of helplessness and irritation. "They are fighting for their lives, and you’re acting like a bored theater critic. It’s a bit... much, even for you."

  The Mayor didn't even turn around. "Arthur, my dear friend, if we don't critique the youth, how will they ever improve? Besides, the 'Big Dog' is listening. I want it to know I’m unimpressed."