"Tomorrow, at two o'clock, meet in front of the ECLIPSE building. We're ending this now." I gripped the phone tightly, my knuckles turning white. My pulse quickened. "You're ruining my plans! What makes you think—" The call abruptly ended with a sharp beep, leaving nothing but cold silence on the other end. I clenched my teeth, staring at the screen in disbelief. Oh, that stubborn man, always so sure what he's doing is right. His headstrong attitude never left room for negotiation, as if he could bend the world to his will just by sheer determination alone. Should I even go? A deep pit of frustration settled in my chest. He's done so much for me in the past, but this... this is idiotic. The phone slipped from my fingers and landed softly onto the blanket beside me. I began, my voice quieter now, "Oren wants me to fight with him at ECLIPSE tomorrow." Miyako reached out and gently caressed my cheek, her touch warm but filled with concern. Her eyes searched mine, filled with that same, unspoken worry she always had when things got dangerous. "You won’t go, right?" Her voice was soft, almost pleading.
I pulled away from her touch, standing up to pace the room, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. "I might go." My words hung in the air like a bitter truth. "He’ll die on his own." Miyako’s expression hardened as she frowned, her delicate features clouded with tension. "There’s upwards of twenty people there at all times," she reminded me. "and since they’re on guard, they’ll have more than that on standby. You and him, no matter how strong you are, can’t take down thirty people with fists." I scoffed, the corners of my mouth curling slightly. She didn’t understand. "I don’t think he’s going to be using just his fists." Miyako's jaw dropped.
The next day..
I stepped on the brake, bringing my car to a halt on a side road near the ECLIPSE building. The hum of the engine died down, leaving me in silence for a moment as I stared through the windshield, my hands still gripping the steering wheel. I inhaled sharply, trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart. This was it. I took a deep breath and exited the car, the door shutting with a soft thud behind me. The streets were eerily quiet, save for the occasional distant hum of traffic. Each step I took down the pavement felt like the final countdown. Steeling myself for what was going to happen, I repeated the same thought in my mind: I can end this. I can do this with Oren by my side. This is the day everything changes.
Even though my body wasn’t in peak condition, I’d push through. I had to. There was no turning back now. The cool air brushed against my face as I reached a tall fence. I jumped, my body feeling the strain as I cleared it with a grunt and landed softly on the other side. Even something like that is hard to do right now. I straightened up, eyes scanning the lot. Oren stood a few feet away, facing the looming structure of the ECLIPSE building. His posture was rigid, and his gaze was fixed, staring blankly at the entrance as if deep in thought, or perhaps already lost in his own storm of emotions. A large backpack, worn and frayed from use, rested behind him on the ground.
I waved, trying to break the tension. "I'm here." He didn’t even glance in my direction, his voice flat and cold. "I know. Are you ready?" I moved closer, feeling the tension rise between us as I stepped beside him. "I'm ready." I replied, my voice firm, though my stomach churned with doubt. Oren wiggled his fingers absently, his eyes narrowing as he pointed toward something ahead. "They know we're here. See that camera?" His finger directed my gaze to the corner of the building, where a security camera blinked ominously. "I have to make things right."
The words hung between us like a weight. I swallowed hard, my thoughts shifting to the consequences of all this. "What about your family?" I asked, forcing myself to confront the reality he was pushing aside. "You’ll be in prison for life." Oren smiled then, a strange, crooked grin that didn’t reach his eyes. "I leveraged one last favor," he muttered, his voice low but filled with a sense of finality. He reached for the large backpack at his feet, its contents rattling softly as he rummaged through it. The night felt colder as I watched him pull out a weapon—an old, worn gun, the kind that belonged in a different era. Its weight seemed to settle into his hands as if it had always been meant for him. He shifted into a proper shooting stance, the transformation from silent brooding to wild intensity happening in an instant. Oren's voice rang out like the shout of a madman. "Right now, I don’t give a fuck if I get arrested!"
The noise was deafening. Each shot rang out with a violent crack, reverberating off the walls and rattling in my skull. I grimaced and plugged my ears, trying to drown out the sharp bursts, but it barely helped. Oren, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, his posture steady, his grip firm. He handled the cacophony like it was nothing, firing shot after shot with terrifying ease. I watched in horror as he aimed at the lobby, shooting wildly without a second thought for whoever might be inside. The cops will be here soon!
Oren only laughed, a deep, chilling sound that echoed between the cracks of gunfire. This wasn’t the Oren I knew. The man beside me now had slipped into something far darker. His joy in the chaos, his complete disregard for life—no matter how evil. I never took that much pleasure in killing them. Him, though? He’s... gone off the deep end. He kept firing, each pull of the trigger sending another round into the building. The walls, once solid, were now riddled with bullet holes, looking like swiss cheese. He even shattered the glass doors, the shards falling like deadly confetti. Through the smoke and dust, I could see bodies inside, twisted and lifeless, drenched in blood. The gore painted the lobby floor red. The sight twisted my stomach. Oren held down the trigger until it clicked, signaling the end of his rampage. His smile vanished as he pulled the chamber back. "I'm out." he muttered, glancing at the carnage. "Let's go inside." Before I could process his words, he started to run. I reached out, grabbing his arm to stop him. "That's... mass murder!" I blurted out.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
He stopped and turned to face me, locking eyes with mine. For a moment, I saw nothing but a reflection of myself in his gaze—those eyes, cold and calculating, were just like mine. Had I become like this? He put a finger on my chest, pressing down with just enough force to make his point clear. "You of all people are telling me this?" His voice was sharp, cutting through my thoughts. "You’ve killed three people already. These people are just as bad. Don’t lecture me." Then, without warning, he slapped me on the back, hard enough to make me stumble forward. The impact shocked me, but it wasn’t the physical blow that hurt—it was the truth in his words. Am I really any better than him?
Before we could even step inside, movement caught my eye. Two men and one woman suddenly rushed out of the building, their clothes soaked in blood, their hands clutching knives like desperate animals. They must have survived the gunfire. Their eyes burned with fury and fear, and I could tell they were ready to fight, ready to die. The woman locked her eyes on me, her voice rising above the chaos as she charged. "I trusted you, Jake!" she screamed, her knife gleaming in the dim light. "Or should I say... Damon?!" She knows?! I raised my guard, bracing for the attack. She was fast, faster than I expected. Her movements were wild, but precise, fueled by rage and betrayal. Oren moved. In one swift motion, he slipped his leg out to the left, tripping her mid-charge. She hit the ground hard, the knife skidding across the pavement.
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Hashigana Style: Crumble
- The user slips a running enemy with a leg sweep, then raises their head and slams their face into the ground.
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The woman tripped face-first onto the rough concrete, her body crashing down. Her fingers still clung to the knife as though it were her last defense. Oren, unfazed by the brutality, grabbed her by the hair and lifted her effortlessly. Without hesitation, he slammed her head back down onto the pavement. The impact echoed, and blood began to pool beneath her, darkening the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the men raise his knife, his hand trembling as he crept behind Oren, preparing to strike. My heart skipped a beat. "Oren!" I yelled, my voice hoarse with urgency. Oren didn’t even turn. With almost unnatural precision, he punched backward, his body in an awkward position, where there should’ve been no leverage, no power behind the strike. Yet, it was strong—too strong.
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Hashigana Style Secret Technique: God Fist
- The user tenses the muscles on their fist before throwing a punch, dramatically increasing its attack potency.
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Oren straightened up, rolling his shoulders slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. "Power from an awkward angle," he said, almost casually, "that's the principle of God Fist." I stared at him, disbelief flooding my mind. You could use it like that? I didn’t have time to contemplate it further when a sudden, sharp pain shot through my thigh. I gasped, my body stiffening as I looked down. A knife, its blade slick with my blood, was lodged deep into my leg. I got stabbed! The pain was excruciating, radiating through my body in sharp pulses. My breath came out in ragged bursts as I reached down and yanked the knife out, feeling my muscles tremble from the shock. I tensed myself, adrenaline flooding my veins, ready to attack whoever had done it. A man, unarmed but clearly determined, charged at me, throwing a straight punch. His eyes were wild, desperate. It was you!
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Hashigana Style: Ball Buster
- The user kicks the enemy in their groin, and raises the enemy off the ground, increasing the pressure to their groin.
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Instinct took over. I drove my foot into his groin with a swift, brutal kick. The man let out a sharp yelp. His body lifted into the air from the sheer force of my leg, and I heard something pop. He crumpled, reaching for his groin as tears streamed down his face, his mouth open in a silent scream. Oren appeared from behind. Oren seized his nose, gripping it with vicious strength. With a quick, jerking motion, Oren hurled him towards the shattered glass doors. The man collided with the broken glass, and it shattered around him, piercing his skin in dozens of places as he collapsed, bleeding and motionless. Oren wasted no time. He tore a strip from his already blood-stained shirt, crouching beside me. He began to bandage my thigh, tying the fabric tightly to slow the bleeding. I winced but felt the flow of blood begin to lessen. "Thanks." I muttered through gritted teeth, still catching my breath.
I looked at him, my mind racing with questions. "How do you even know he's inside?" Oren didn’t answer right away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, scrolling briefly before showing me the screen. A message, from an unknown number, stared back at me: "How's that kid doing? Kick the bucket yet? Haha. Anyways, come over in a few days. If you want revenge, beat all of my lackeys then you'll have earned the right to face me. - Olly" This isn't some game, Olly! Oren’s face hardened as he turned away, his jaw clenched. "I have three more minutes on my leg," he said, his voice low but urgent. "we have to hurry inside."