The protest was dense with activity. In the distance, a group of men with golden sun tattoos, shaved just above their ears, entered the crowd. Spotting rival Cumulus gang members, they moved swiftly toward the Abyssal Mouth to intercept them.
Ged unwound his fishing device at a rapid pace, channeling bursts of his body’s heat into it to accelerate the process. With each surge, the hook descended faster, vanishing deeper into the fog below.
Shrouded in the mist was a giant, beak-like mouth. Serrated teeth lined its grotesque jaw, with small deposits of glistening green iron lodged between them. Hundreds of magnetic ball bearings, suspended on strings, flossed the celestial iron from the beak’s jagged teeth. Periodically, the mouth opened wide, unfurling its enormous tongue to expose hard-to-reach areas for the fishing bodybuilders.
Ged glanced at the worsening scene above.
Nearby, the Golden Sun gang members confronted the closest Cumulus gang member. The leader charged his fist with golden energy, fiery light coiling brightly around his hand. With a devastating blow, he struck the Cumulus member in the back, sending him tumbling toward the pit below.
The Cumulus gang member furrowed his cloud-shaped tattooed eyebrows as he fell backward. Smoke blurred around his feet, slowing his descent. From his abdomen, he pulled out a thorny, vine-like lasso and cracked it at the legs of a Golden Sun member. The lasso wrapped tightly around its target, its thorns digging viciously into flesh, dragging the victim toward the pit. The two remaining Golden Sun gangsters reacted quickly, grabbing their ally’s shoulders to support him. Tiny mountains erupted beneath their feet, anchoring them in place. A tense standoff ensued as the Golden Sun members struggled to untangle the vine, while the Cumulus gang member used the tension to climb back toward the lip of the mouth.
The violent exchange was like a spark in a powder keg, igniting chaos between the protesters and bodybuilders. Weapons were drawn, fists flew, and blood spilled as the sprawling melee escalated. More Golden Sun members emerged from the crowd, engaging the rival Cumulus gang in a fiery clash over contested territory.
The chaos grew so intense that even bystanders were caught in the fray. Fury and desperation boiled over, sending people crashing into one another like bumper cars.
Ged’s carefully cleared space quickly disappeared as protesters and fighters alike stumbled into him. A hard shove to his back almost threw him off balance, threatening to send him plummeting into the pit. Ged winced in frustration, his fishing device nowhere near the depths necessary to retrieve anything worthwhile.
"I need to leave now!" Ged gritted his teeth. "But this loss…" A conflicted look flickered in his eyes as he gripped the rod tighter. He wasn’t ready to give up.
"I can’t do it!" Ged’s expression twisted with desperation. "I’m already behind on materials to develop my physique. If I take one more loss, I’ll fall too far behind to build a body capable of ascending." He scanned the rim of the Abyssal Mouth, his mind racing. "There must be another way…"
Nearby, one of Ged’s bodybuilding neighbors, a man in a red flannel shirt, was frantically reeling in his fishing hook. From the foggy depths, a large chunk of celestial iron glinted on the hook.
Greed flashed in Ged’s eyes. The prize was too good to pass up.
Without hesitation, Ged moved swiftly. Hopping down, he angled his feet to grip the pit wall. Using his sturdy frame and athletic skill, he took a few agile steps along the vertical slope.
Not far away, the Cumulus gang member clung to his vine-like whip, his hands bloodied from the thorns. Gritting his teeth, he kicked up clouds to propel himself higher along the edge of the pit.
Suddenly, his grip slipped as a powerful foot slammed into his face. The whip flew from his hands, and he tumbled into the Abyssal Mouth below. A hateful glare burned in his eyes, locked onto Ged’s silhouette as he fell to his demise.
Ged, using the Cumulus gang member as a springboard, vaulted upward toward the red-flannelled man, who was just about to reel in his haul.
Like a black blur, Ged twisted mid-flight, adjusting his trajectory as he descended toward the red-flannelled man. He delivered a ruthless punch to the man’s exposed jawline. The fishing rod fell from his grasp as he staggered, dazed and unable to process what had happened.
Stealing the rod, Ged swiftly tangled the red-flannelled man in his unwound fishing line, leaving him encumbered as he escaped with his spoils.
The red-flannelled man, groggy but furious, slashed through the fishing line with his fingers. His eyes locked on Ged’s retreating form as the thief melted into the chaotic crowd.
"Stop! You thief!" the man roared, stumbling forward in pursuit.
Ged turned to glance over his shoulder, but his attention lingered on the man’s discarded fishing rod.
"Some people are just too wasteful," Ged muttered, shaking his head. Ducking and weaving through the brawling crowd, he pushed forward, occasionally enduring retaliatory strikes from enraged protesters.
The man was already extremely disadvantaged, despite his frantic effort to catchup, he found himself further and further behind.
Trapped behind a pair of fighting bodybuilders and Ged, he could no longer pursue any further, unsatisfied and brooding with rage he begrudgingly gave up his chase.
"You won't get away with this!" the man roared, his face flushed, veins bulging with rage. "Don’t think you’ve won! The Equalizers will hear of this injustice. Mark my words, I will return this enmity tenfold!"
Ged didn’t slow his pace, his frown deepening as the man’s shouts echoed behind him. He pushed through the chaotic crowd with steady determination.
"Another loser who can’t handle a single setback in their life," Ged muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He sneered, "I don't believe you have even seen my face. Do you really think the Equalizers are so omnipotent that they can honor every claim of injustice submitted to them?"
"Delusional," he added with a cold chuckle, disappearing deeper into the crowd.
The uproar of the crowd continued to escalate as reports of more deaths spread rapidly. Cries of anger and dissatisfaction filled the air. The bodybuilders, weary from the relentless attacks of the weak but persistent protesters, retaliated with brutal force. Protesters were shoved aside in waves, many trampled to death in the chaos. Without intervention, catastrophe was inevitable.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Thunderous drums boomed across the city. Their deep, resonant beats swept over the masses, electrifying and commanding.
A cold wave of clarity rippled through the crowd. Weapons were lowered, tempers cooled. Like a parent forcing quarreling children into uneasy compromise, the violence ebbed, replaced by tense, hostile stares.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Even the rival gang members faltered. Moments earlier, they had unleashed their most vicious strikes, but now they hesitated, dropping their weapons. Some hastily covered their faces, retreating into defensive postures, as if sensing the impending storm.
From beneath the city’s stone roads, red and blue flying saucers emerged, their smooth, gleaming forms hovering ominously around the Abyssal Mouth.
Bodybuilders descended from the saucers like otherworldly beings, suspended in bright yellow beams of light.
"I figured the peacekeepers would show up eventually," Ged muttered flatly. "Good thing I got what I needed before they shut everything down." Relaxing his stance, he stopped pushing his way out and stood still, waiting to see how the situation would unfold.
The yellow beams scanned the masses like searchlights. When they found a troublemaker, the beams froze them mid-air in a glowing halo, rendering them weightless. Flailing helplessly, the captured individuals spun slowly, as though adrift in space.
Several gang members, too slow to hide or reckless enough to keep fighting, were quickly caught in the lights, their bodies dangling like marionettes.
Suddenly, a new beam of light appeared at the crowd’s center. Within it stood a towering male figure, as tall as a full-grown oak tree. Gasps and murmurs of awe rippled through the crowd.
"The Abyssal Mouth is now closed to the public."
"Prepare to be dispersed immediately."
"City governor..." people whispered, pointing at the giant man in reverence.
Ged remained unmoved, his expression flat.
The oak-tree-sized figure reached into his body and pulled out a metallic faucet. Fixing it into his palm, he turned one of its knobs. A waterfall of shimmering, illusory water gushed forth, cascading onto the crowd below.
The water, though intangible, moved with immense force. It swept up protesters and bystanders alike, carrying them in a raging, invisible current that scattered them far from the Abyssal Mouth. The peacekeepers expertly redirected the torrent, ensuring no one was carried toward the pit.
In seconds, the crowd was gone, swept away by the unseen flood. Only those trapped in the yellow beams of light remained, suspended above the emptied plaza.
Ged was no exception. The invisible current seized him, sending him tumbling like a kite cut loose. He bounced along the uneven stone streets, gritting his teeth as he flexed his body to absorb the impacts. After being carried nearly half a kilometer from the Mouth, he finally wedged himself between two stone spires.
He exhaled deeply, surveying his surroundings. Though battered, he was unmarked by the peacekeepers’ beams, a fact that brought him some relief. His gaze shifted to the others who had been dispersed nearby. Only when he was certain the red-flannelled man was nowhere in sight did Ged finally allow himself to relax.
A wry smile tugged at his lips. "Looks like I got lucky this time."
Inspecting his stolen haul, Ged couldn’t suppress a satisfied grin.
The fishing rod he had taken was far superior to his own. Its sleek black handle gleamed with a polished finish, and as he tested it in his hand, he realized it could release and retract at twice the speed of his old rod.
“No wonder that rich idiot managed to snag celestial iron so easily. With a rod like this, anyone could,” he muttered, his tone tinged with begrudging admiration. He examined the magnetic ball bearing used as the hook, weighing the green celestial iron clustered around it in his hands.
“Thirty kilograms!” he exclaimed, unable to hide his surprise.
"Not bad," he said, his grin widening. "This should be enough to trade for a month’s worth of vials."
Brushing the dust off his clothes, Ged carefully unwedged himself from the stone spires. He scanned his surroundings, trying to get his bearings, eager to leave the city now that he had secured his spoils.
“This looks like the Sixth Sector,” he mused, recognizing the monotonous spires arranged around him. "For now I will head to the outskirts of town and see if I can find traces where the new hideout may be located at."
He traveled with fast steps as he left the city, many other protestors and bodybuilders were nursing wounds, crying out for medical treatment.
As Ged traveled farther from the city center, the cries of the injured and desperate grew softer. He walked briskly, but as he neared the city’s edge, his steps faltered, his eyes narrowing at the sight before him.
"Wattkinz..." he muttered, his tone laced with displeasure as he spotted the man on the opposite end of the street.
Ged veered away, trying to avoid the scene entirely.
Ahead, three bodybuilders in trench coats and sunglasses pursued a bloodied man. The fugitive staggered, his injuries slowing him.
"Stop right there, you bully!" one of the trench-coated men shouted.
"Your days of preying on the weak are over. The Equalizers have caught onto your degenerate behavior!" another yelled.
"I didn’t do it!" the bloodied man screamed, his voice hoarse. "Please, spare me!"
The third Equalizer, a scarred man puffing on a cigar, lagged behind. Unlike the others, he moved slowly, his deliberate steps exuding menace, as though he relished the man’s desperation.
But then his attention shifted. Turning his head, he spotted Ged heading toward the city’s edge.
With a burst of speed, the scarred man raised his leg and brought his heel down on the fleeing bodybuilder’s back. The man collapsed with a howl of pain as the other Equalizers descended on him, pinning him to the ground.
Exhaling a plume of cigar smoke, the scarred man, Wattkinz, grinned and waved at Ged.
"Little brother Ged," Wattkinz called, his gravelly voice cutting through the air. "Why are you ignoring me? Up to no good again, I assume?" He coughed, the corners of his mouth twisting into a smirk.
Ged stopped, his face impassive. "You’re on duty. Why would I bother you?"
"Duty?" Wattkinz scoffed, his grin widening. "This? Hardly. You should know I always have time for my beloved brother."
Reaching into his abdomen, Wattkinz pulled out a white capsule and dropped it beside the paralyzed criminal. It expanded with a hiss, unfolding into a sleek mechanical hatch. The other Equalizers hoisted the man inside and sealed it shut.
With the task complete, Wattkinz turned back to Ged, his gaze piercing.
"I heard the protest at the Abyssal Mouth turned into a riot," he said, his tone turning mocking. "I hope you behaved yourself and didn’t cause any trouble."
Ged shrugged. "I didn’t do anything."
"Nothing? Not a single thing?" Wattkinz laughed, his scarred face twisting in amusement. "Maybe my little delinquent brother is finally turning over a new leaf. Perhaps we should celebrate."
One of the Equalizers leaned in to whisper something, and Wattkinz nodded, dismissing Ged with a wave.
"Alright, I must be going. It was nice seeing you, Ged. We’ll continue this conversation later." He began wheeling the capsule away, its metallic frame clattering softly.
Without turning, he added, "You’re almost eighteen, Ged. I trust you’re still considering kinesiology studies. I’ve already pulled strings at the recreation centers. With your talent in bodybuilding, you’d easily earn a spot."
His voice grew colder. "Think carefully. You wouldn’t want to waste your potential."
As Wattkinz walked away, his broad back and rippling muscles seemed to mock Ged, a tangible display of his dominance in both authority and physical power.
Ged clenched his fists, his glare surfacing only when Wattkinz was far enough away.
"We’re not even related by blood," he muttered bitterly. "Why do you insist on meddling in my life?"
"For what I end up doing once I turn eighteen is none of your business," he added, his voice low with defiance.
Turning his back on Wattkinz, Ged strode toward the city’s outskirts, eager to put the encounter behind him.
As he made his way through the outskirts of town, he frequently stopped to scan his surroundings. Periodically, at intersections between jagged rocks, he crouched down and pressed his hand to the ground, sending a vibrating pulse into the earth.
Occasionally, a resonance would return, prompting him to adjust his path.
After weaving in an irregular zigzag pattern, Ged finally arrived at an inconspicuous stone grotto.
Having found what he was looking for, Ged began rotating his arm like a drill, burrowing into the floor of the grotto’s entrance. The ground crumbled beneath his efforts, revealing a crystalline cave below that glowed with hazy, red-tinged light.
Carved into a nearby wall was what appeared to be a nightclub bar. Its entrance was flanked by two massive bodybuilder bouncers standing stoically behind a red velvet rope.
Above the entrance, a glowing sign read: "The Hidden Olympian."