Irwin grabbed an incoming arm, pulling the detective's face close enough to place a well-aimed punch to his jaw. He let the force from the blow send the detective away as he crashed against the metal container, breaking his left shoulder and further worsening the shattered jaw based on the cracks he heard afterwards.
He sighed in disappointment, cracking his knuckles and rushing forward to meet his other opponents.
The other detective, closer to him than most, met him mid-way, showing off his toothy maw, red eyes, and newly emerged claws as he transformed into a full-blown monstrous werewolf.
"There we go." He praised, ducking the claws as it swiped mere inches away from his head's previous position. His clenched fist soon launched a body blow to the werewolf detective's side, sending him yelping and crashing onto the ajar door of the other open container.
Much like what he had predicted, the effects of the third lever of his Enhanced Physique was more visible in close-quarter-combat. Every punch felt as potent as the last, backed by his ever-increasing movement and reaction speed.
He was outnumbered 14-to-1, a number adequate enough for him to get used to his improved physical fighting prowess.
With a crack of his knuckles, Irwin bent his legs and leaped forward, surprising the three of the uniformed police officers as they felt the air rushing towards them.
His left foot landed on the ground, twisting his ankle to leverage his momentum and send a haymaker to one police officer.
The punch broke the police officer's jaw. The force did not spread enough to send him flying but had, instead, spread to his neck that cracked and twisted the thin piece of bones that held his head and torso which ended his life.
He didn't stop with a sole punch as he used the same momentum to launch a back kick to the other police officer, hitting him square in the abdomen and sending him tumbling down a dozen feet along the paved ground.
Coughing up blood, the police officer tried to stand up, but found that his whole torso had caved in, mere moments away from death.
The last police officer, still surprised by the attack, stumbled back and tried to get out of Irwin's melee range, but the Greythorne heir was much faster than the former.
Irwin steadied his footing as he quickly struck the last police officer's throat with outstretched hands, giving him a laryngeal fracture which incapacitated him for a few minutes.
The brutal skirmish with the three police officers had lasted no longer than six seconds, short enough for the other unharmed hostiles to gather up their allies and form a makeshift plan of attack.
He gazed at the rest, having taken out five of them and removing the threat of being surrounded by enemies. He felt pretty proud of himself, certain that his Unarmed Combat skill would level up after this fight, if not gaining a new effect.
He quickly scanned the battlefield.
Two workers and two other police officers were to his north, quickly changing into ferocious, snarling werewolves. Five neon vest-wearing workers and four police officers blocked the only exit to his immediate west and, unlike their canine counterparts, showed elongated fangs and pale faces.
"Vampires… and werewolves, all together." He muttered, fixing his sleeves. "Thousands of romance fantasy writers just cried themselves to sleep."
As usual, the ever-so-eager and hot-blooded werewolves struck first. He had expected such, given that he had taken down half of their numbers and none of the other factions'.
Although he was strong and eager to test out his newfound strength, Irwin was no fool, at least not anymore. He skipped backwards, nimbly moving his body to evade the slew of claw attacks from the werewolves' onslaught.
The metal container clanged as he tapped one foot after another, gaining no distance from his attacker, but had positioned himself for only two assailants to fit an attack.
Although his stature was fairly large, it was not as large as the bulky form of the monstrous beasts before him. He reared back his fists, stepping within a werewolf's private space and unleashing a one-two combo.
A left jab to the chest caused the wolf to stumble back and, as he was still reeling from the punch, he sent a right cross that knocked him to his companion.
He skipped back, but not before he was swiped on the shoulder. The surprise attack forced a grunt out of him, his bleeding shoulder stinging in pain.
The remaining two werewolves rushed in, caring not one bit for their fallen companion. The fact gained Irwin's interest as he caught a werewolf's wrists, breaking it the next moment before using the monster's body like a battering ram.
Since he didn't need to be worried about contracting the werewolf's curse, Irwin continued battering the captive werewolf against his fellow kin.
Breaking every bone in the four werewolves' body before breaking their necks and letting them rest for eternity in Purgatory. At least until he gets there and kills them again.
"Well, that was easy." He muttered to himself, finding the trap to be too easy for his own good. "Two types of monsters fighting together… and where the fuck are their sires and alphas?"
He sighed to himself, knowing his questions will go unanswered for a time. The only way to know was to trick whoever wanted to trap him, but first, he had to kill some monsters.
He walked out of the container and saw the vampires rushing towards him, but stopped once they saw his figure.
"Alright, you mindless fucks. Here's how it's going to go: Since I don't have anything sharp to decapitate you, I'm just gonna twist your heads until they come off." He began walking forward, his confident gait throwing off the fighting power of the vampires. "Understand?"
His body launched forward, surprising the nearest vampire. Unlike the werewolf pack, the vampires had a few women in their group, though this one had a bald head underneath her hard hat.
She hurriedly put up her fists, but the power behind one of his fist broke through her defense, fracturing her forearm bones before pushing through and smashing her skull in. The vampire's head wobbled for a brief moment, reddened eyes glazing in astonishment before unceremoniously dropping to the ground, unconscious.
Two more vampiric monsters stepped in after she went down, giving Irwin no quarter nor rest.
The first vampire lunged at Irwin, hastily grabbing a hold of his right arm and forcing himself upon the latter's body. His fangs, deadly and sharp as a stainless blade, tried to tear off Irwin's neck but found the latter's left hand upon his head, preventing him from gaining contact.
"C'mon, really!" Irwin tried to get the vampire off of him, but his ally kept harassing his left flank, always out of his range when he tried to swat him away.
Having enough of the leech by his side, Irwin lept to the side and rammed his right shoulder on the doors of the metal container. The thick sheet of metal bent and clanged against the pressure of the crashing body, buckling under the might of the subsequent bodily ramming.
Like a very stubborn jar, Irwin slammed the vampire into the metal container and eventually broke the metal pole that locked the doors, shrugging off the broken vampire inside of the shipping container.
He looked at the rest of the vampires and saw the utter fear palpable in their eyes, hesitation evident in the way they stumbled backwards every time he took one small step towards them.
Seeing as they had no more reason to fight him, he thought it might be the best time to ask why they had set up a trap for him and, more importantly, who had the inkling and know-how to set the trap.
Just as he was about to move his mouth, he felt a sudden gust of ominous wind blow in his face and, by sheer instinct alone, faced the eastern block of the cul-de-sac. Catching the sight of three figures whose forms were blocked by the rays of the sun, each more powerful than the last, had him chuckling in surprise.
If he was a betting man, which, frankly, he was, then he would bet that either one or all of the three figures above him were the mastermind behind the trap.
He placed his hands in his pant pockets, leaving him highly vulnerable against the vampires behind his back. If he was correct about his guess, then they would surely be restraining their clan members and preventing more predictable deaths.
"Go back." Like he predicted, the left-most figure ordered, her voice quite rough and gravelly, as if she had smoked a hundred cartons of cigarettes over the last decade.
Footsteps and mournful murmurs resounded behind him, receding from his earshot before disappearing entirely. All the while, his gaze never left that of the three figures and the surrounding area.
"I suppose it's high time you tell me who you are, why I'm here, and, more importantly, in which order should I kill you?"
I'd like to improve my writing. If you see any mistakes or suggestions, please comment!