The two of us showed up at the source of the commotion within the second, and were greeted by a scene that made my blood boil. Anne, a long-time resident of the community and a unanimously agreed upon angel, lay cowering on the floor as she embraced her sobbing daughter, Charlotte. Around her lay the wreckage of her candied apple stall; splintered planks of wood peppered with sparkling red apples lay strewn over the asphalt floor.

The culprit for the destruction was not very hard to find. A burly man stood right in the middle of it, sporting a grimy white tank top with sweatpants and smoking fists, and a smug grin resting on his stubble-encased lips.

The man’s arrogant eyes quickly found mine, the challenge in them obvious.

“Ah, so you must be Ruby. I’ve been looking for you,” the man said in his rumbling voice.

“Destroying property in my territory? There are easier, less painful ways to get yourself killed, y’know?” I responded, a deathly light in my eyes.

The man laughed uproariously at my words. “I knew you’d be gutsy, but you really are something, huh? Tell me, little girl, are you sure that you can back up those words?”

I smirked. “If I can’t deal with some lowly thug then I hardly deserve to aim for world domination, don’t you think?” But inside, I knew the truth. The man in front of me was no lowly thug, despite his appearance. I could feel the strength emanating from his bulging muscles, and the Flux rising off of his fists was very refined. He would undoubtedly be my most challenging opponent to date, and I knew enough to know that a man with his strength would not be low on the food chain. Which meant this was not a random encounter, and that he represented a bigger enemy.

“He looks fun. Ruby, you mind if I take care of this?" Ren suddenly spoke from my side, his voice cutting through my musing. "There’s no need for you to dirty your hands with this street urchin.”

Surprised, I looked over at him, about to ask if he could handle it. However, his completely unperturbed face stopped me. Not even the slightest trace of worry could be seen on his face, and I knew Ren enough to know that he wasn’t hiding anything.

On top of that, this would be a good chance to find out how capable he really was. His training had been top-notch, but I’d never seen him really push himself. And it would be nice for the members of Rosefire, who had all now gathered around, to see his strength as well.

Deciding to trust him, I nodded with a smile. “Knock yourself out, Ren.”

“Let’s hope I don’t,” Ren said with a smile as he walked over to the man. “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here," Ren began, facing the man down with his face uncharacteristically serious. "And frankly, I don’t care. But you really should not have broken this stall.”

“Why not?” the man asked in a patronizing tone.

“Cuz I liked it,” Ren responded simply.

“Oh really? Well, in that case, I sincerely apologize,” the man said. As he spoke, he brought his foot over a nearby apple and crushed it, grounding it into the ground. “Oops.”

Then, turning to me, the man continued. “Also, on another note, is he blind?” he asked, gesturing at Ren and his closed eyes. “Because I won’t be sparing your little play gang out of pity, if that’s what you were hop-”

Before he could finish his taunt, Ren’s walking stick came crashing into the man’s chin, shutting him up. The force of the attack pushed him a few steps back, face turned to the sky.

The man audibly sucked in a breath, his chest puffing out. Shifting his gaze back to Ren, the man rubbed his chin roughly. “Now you’ve done it. You’ve officially sealed your fate, blind boy.”

Ren let out a ridiculing laugh. “You’ve got me trembling in my boots, musclehead.”

Instead of responding, the man’s fist suddenly shot out, so fast it whistled. Aimed at Ren’s head, the punch seemed impossible to avoid. But, just in the nick of time, Ren leaned his head just enough to the left to let the fist pass harmlessly through the air. Instantly, the man’s second fist shot out as well, even faster than the last. With speed so great it blurred, even I would be hard-pressed to dodge the man’s approaching fist. But Ren, in the fraction of a second that he had, simply ducked under the man’s arm, before calmly stepping out of his range.

“All that talk, and you throw punches like that? That’s just embarrassing,” Ren taunted with a crooked smile.

Instead of responding, the man studied Ren intently, seeming to realize finally that Ren wasn’t up there for show. Making the decision to start treating him like a proper opponent, the man shrugged and stretched his arms, loosening up his muscles. The gray vapor shimmering out of his arms grew stronger, the danger emanating from his body a physical weight on the shoulders of everyone present.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Strangely, Ren’s expression remained unchanged, still as unfazed as always. With his casual stance and arms loosely held at his side, it hardly looked like he was ready for a fight.

Still, when the man charged forward, the eruption of power from his feet carrying him at frightening speeds, Ren smoothly ducked under his punch without batting an eye. The man followed up with another five lightning-quick jabs, but Ren managed to slip through every attack without even using his feet. Like water, he was formless, gracefully bending and weaving through the man’s blurring attacks.

After a futile few seconds of attacking, the man finally seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to catch Ren anytime soon. Backing up a few steps, he took a break, chest heaving from the exertion. Suddenly, Ren exploded into movement, appearing in front of the man in the blink of an eye. Before he could react, Ren had already sunk his knee into the man’s gut. With an umph, the air in his lungs rushed out, adding on to the disorientation that the man was already feeling.

Not letting the man have a break, Ren immediately extended his foot straight upwards. The sole of his sneakers crashed into the man’s chin, lifting him off the ground a good inch. The move asked for incredible flexibility, requiring his legs to stretch into a straight vertical line, but its effectiveness was unarguable. The twofold combo was very disorienting, with the unusual order of its attacks. An ordinary mage would’ve been out of the fight already.

Still not satisfied, however, Ren quickly brought his foot back down and spun around, bringing his knee crashing into the man’s spine. The force threw the man against the ground, but somehow, the man managed to use the rebound to bring himself back to his feet. The momentum carried him forward, making him stumble. Despite the pain coursing through his body, the man kept himself upright, gritting his teeth with the effort. Then, suddenly, a loud whack echoed out as Ren brought his walking stick hard against the man’s calf, forcing him down to his knees again.

Leaning on his stick, Ren simply watched the dazed man, lips curled into a small, amused smile as he slowly walked around to the man’s front.

“Now, then, why don’t you get talking, little man,” Ren asked, his voice dripping with terrifying politeness. “Who are you, and why are you targeting Rosefire?”

The man defiantly stared at Ren, unwilling to give in so easily. Seeing the unyielding look in his eyes, Ren’s smile grew, taking on a ruthless air.

Dropping to a crouch, Ren tilted the man’s chin until they were at eye level with each other. Finally, Ren opened his eyes, locking gazes with the man. Neither spoke for a moment, but the man seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. Eventually, beads of sweat started to roll down his face, but still, the man seemed unable to look away from Ren’s eyes.

From my angle, I couldn’t see Ren’s eyes, so I had no idea what the man was going through. Still, a small part of me couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor man. At least, until he opened his mouth.

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you,” the man finally gave in, tearing his gaze away from Ren’s. “Fight House found out about you and Rosefire, so I was sent to break some stuff and beat up a few people, before letting you know that Fight House intends to make an example out of you. You are going to be Fight House’s number-one enemy. The humiliation you caused them crossed a line.” The man laughed, an ugly, smug laugh. “We’re going to tear down everything you’ve spent the last three months building. This is war.”

Absolute silence descended on the dark street. The faces of the people gathered ranged from horror to disbelief, and I could understand what was going through their heads. Hellwalker was a second-rate gang, and even they were something just barely attainable for Rosefire. Fight House was on a completely different level.

Third-rate gangs ran neighbourhoods, each one unique and usually community-based. They weren’t even on the food chain, only considered organizations created to keep their people safe. Second-rate gangs were a step above, usually encompassing three or more neighbourhoods. On top of that, they also had to own a company valued at a minimum of five hundred thousand dollars, according to the standard set by the International Organization Rankings. Even then, second-rate gangs were at the bottom of the food chain, bought and traded by bigger organizations like poker chips.

First-rate gangs, however, were different. Every major city was usually run by two or three first-rate gangs, each vying for the top seat. The standard for first-rate gangs was to have at least five second-rate gangs as subsidiaries, and have their own company valued at five million. They usually balanced each other out in terms of strength, a balance so delicate that the slightest slip could result in their destruction. More than one had fallen through kidnapped children and spouses, assassinations, and other underhanded tricks of the like.

Fight House was the only known first-rate gang in Toronto. They ranked third on the IOR’s Leaderboard, though, meaning that there were at least two more who were even more powerful.

A gang like Rosefire, a gang just barely above third-rate in terms of resources, would be squashed under a first-rate gang’s foot. Waging war was like using a rocket launcher against an ant, when a simple stomp would suffice.

Curious as to what Ren’s reaction would be to the man’s claim, I moved to stand in front of the man, beside Ren. Just a glance was enough to confirm my suspicions. Ren’s face was completely unchanged, lips curled into a small smile with a hint of glee that I just barely caught.

We really are birds of a feather, I thought to myself. There was no fear on his face, only anticipation at the prospect of fighting impossible odds.

Nodding to myself, I crouched down to the man’s level and looked him in the eye, giving him a smile.

“When you wake up tomorrow, lying on the concrete sidewalk in front of Fight House’s building with your arms broken, remember to tell your masters that,” I paused for a second, finally letting the anger in me surface in my eyes. “Rosefire. Fears. Nothing.”

My hand struck out, so fast he only saw a blur of movement before being plunged into darkness.