I Can Extract Game Items-Chapter 228: Turning The Tables

Author’s Note: Do Not Unlock.

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Pain came first.

A deep, grinding pain that felt like gravity itself had left fingerprints on Aleman’s bones.

He lay still for a moment, staring at the fractured ceiling above the Oni facility, dust drifting down like ash. His ears rang. His chest rose and fell in heavy, uneven breaths.

Kurogane...

The name burned.

Aleman forced his fingers to move. They obeyed — slowly, painfully — but they moved. That alone told him enough.

He wasn’t done.

As his vision steadied, translucent system prompts flickered into existence at the edge of his sight — the faint, familiar overlay that only he could see.

He didn’t look at his health.

He didn’t look at his stamina.

His gaze snapped straight to his spell interface.

Thunder Spear — active.

Shadow Step — locked (real-world restriction).

Phantom Blitz — active.

Telekinetic Grip —

He froze.

The icon was no longer dimmed.

No warning symbol.

No restriction mark.

It pulsed faintly, alive, responsive.

Aleman’s breath hitched.

"...You’ve got to be kidding me."

A laugh bubbled out of his throat — half disbelief, half something dangerously close to exhilaration.

Three.

No super had more than one ability in the real world. That wasn’t rumor — that was law, enforced by every known case, every recorded anomaly.

Even Aleman had only ever been able to use two.

Until now.

His mind raced.

Kurogane pushed me past the threshold.

The suppression collar is gone.

The extraction resonance from Enders Light... stabilized?

It didn’t matter why.

What mattered was this:

Kurogane was moving the containers right now.

Aleman planted a hand on the floor and pushed himself upright, muscles screaming in protest. He staggered once — then steadied.

Around him, the aftermath of the battle painted a brutal picture. Crushed steel. Smoldering scorch marks. Medics rushing toward the fallen supers. Shouts echoing through the hangar.

Detective Wright’s voice crackled through a damaged comm unit nearby.

"—repeat, Oni convoy is lifting off the eastern pad! Multiple transports! Aleman, if you can hear me—"

Aleman was already moving.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I hear you."

The world blurred.

[PHANTOM BLITZ ACTIVATED]

Reality stretched, folded, then snapped.

Aleman became motion.

He burst out of the facility like a lightning-wreathed specter, feet barely touching the ground as he accelerated beyond human limits. The night air tore past him, cold and sharp against his skin.

Ahead, floodlights illuminated the eastern landing zone.

Three heavy-lift transport aircraft hovered above the ground, anti-grav engines roaring as Oni personnel scrambled to load the reinforced containers aboard.

And there —

Kurogane stood at the center of it all, issuing commands with calm authority, gravity subtly shifting around him to expedite the operation.

Aleman slowed — not stopping, just controlling his momentum.

Not yet.

He watched.

Observed.

Counted.

Four Oni supers guarding the perimeter.

Two more inside the transports.

Kurogane at the center.

Aleman flexed his fingers.

The Telekinetic Grip icon responded instantly.

A chill ran down his spine.

They don’t know.

No one did.

Not Oni.

Not Wright.

Not even his own team.

Aleman Phantom Blitzed again — this time sideways, vanishing into the shadows cast by a fuel tower. He reappeared silently atop a steel beam overlooking the landing zone.

He raised one hand.

Focused.

Not outward.

Not violently.

Just... listened.

The containers were massive — tons of reinforced alloy, humming faintly with containment magic. To a normal telekinetic, they would’ve been immovable.

Aleman wasn’t normal.

He didn’t try to lift them.

He gripped the space around them.

The first container shuddered.

An Oni handler frowned.

"—Did you feel that?"

The second container jerked violently to the side.

Alarms blared.

"What the hell—?!"

Kurogane turned sharply.

Too late.

Aleman clenched his fist.

The containers ripped free from their moorings, cables snapping like twine as several tons of reinforced cargo were yanked sideways and slammed into the tarmac with an earth-shaking crash.

Panic exploded across the landing zone.

"CONTACT!"

"WHERE IS THAT COMING FROM?!"

Kurogane’s eyes snapped upward.

They locked onto Aleman.

For the first time —

Kurogane’s calm cracked.

Aleman stepped forward into the light.

Thunder crackled around his spear as Phantom Blitz’s afterimage still shimmered faintly behind him.

"Miss me?" Aleman called out.

The Oni supers reacted instantly, launching attacks — fire, distortion, kinetic blasts screaming toward him.

Aleman didn’t dodge.

He raised his free hand.

[TELEKINETIC GRIP — MAX OUTPUT]

The incoming attacks stopped mid-air.

Then folded.

Then detonated harmlessly upward, lighting the night sky like twisted fireworks.

Silence followed.

Kurogane stared.

"...Impossible," he muttered.

Aleman smiled beneath his helmet.

"I told you," he said, voice steady. "Refinement beats variety."

Then he moved.

Phantom Blitz carried him straight into the fray, Thunder Spear flashing as he struck with brutal precision. One Oni super went down in a single electrified thrust, armor caving inward as lightning detonated inside it.

Another tried to crush him with kinetic force —

Aleman grabbed it telekinetically and threw it back, sending the attacker flying into a transport hull hard enough to dent reinforced plating.

Kurogane stepped forward, gravity surging.

Aleman felt the pressure instantly — crushing, familiar, dangerous.

But this time...

He didn’t buckle.

He pushed back.

Telekinetic force met gravitational compression in a violent stalemate, the air between them warping visibly.

Kurogane’s eyes widened.

"You’ve grown," he said slowly.

Aleman’s boots dug into the ground as he held the line.

"Wrong," Aleman replied. "I stopped holding back."

The remaining Oni began retreating, scrambling to recover what they could.

Aleman made a decision.

He didn’t chase Kurogane.

Instead, he turned his telekinetic grip upward — and ripped one of the transports out of the sky.

The aircraft screamed as it plummeted, crashing into the far end of the landing zone in a fireball that lit the island like dawn.

Kurogane leapt back, narrowly avoiding the blast.

When the smoke cleared, only one transport remained airborne.

Kurogane hovered beside it, gravity keeping him aloft.

Their eyes met across the burning tarmac.

"This isn’t over," Kurogane said.

Aleman nodded.

"I know."

The transport lifted off, disappearing into the night.

Aleman stood amid the wreckage, chest rising and falling, lightning fading, telekinetic pressure easing.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

Wright’s voice crackled through his comm, sharp with disbelief.

"...Aleman. What the hell did you just do?"

Aleman looked down at his trembling hand — then clenched it into a fist.

"Something Oni wasn’t ready for," he replied.

And somewhere deep inside him, a quiet, undeniable truth settled:

The balance had shifted.

And the world was about to notice.

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