He was late but Deion knew he was at the right place. He had double-checked the address before leaving his hotel. The report from The Quiet Inn stated that Sweet Fist usually had his breakfast at a diner owned by his daughter. Evidently, the villain did not do so every day.

Deion swept the area once more. ‘Jennifer’s Place’ looked like a typical diner. There was a long counter with several seats, a display case showing tasty-looking pastries and sandwiches, and several seating booths for groups of customers. The interior décor was tastefully done, with light colours and the floors looked clean. There was even a colourful jukebox playing some pop song.

Deion had taken a seat at the counter and ordered some pancakes with a cup of orange juice. The service was prompt and the food were delivered quickly. Deion took a bite and it was surprisingly good. The pancakes were crisp but soft, and they weren’t soggy even with the maple syrup on it. Deion touched his visor, unlocked the device, and connect to the diner’s Wi-Fi. It was one of the stranger benefits of being in an area belonging to the Sweet Fist’s crew. His crew provided free Wi-Fi in places where he controlled. According to the reports from The Quiet Inn, it was done by the Heavenly Association of Villainous Entertainment to increase the Sweet Fist’s popularity among the locals. It worked.

The local authorities were naturally less than happy about it and gave a warning to the locals that connecting to the network meant your phone could be tracked by the most infamous villain in Velocity City. So far, almost no one cared about the warning. Free is free, and it wasn’t as if telecommunication companies don’t sell personal data on the sly. Deion looked around, and it was easy to differentiate the locals from the tourists. The tourists were the ones who were gawking around, with their cameras and mobiles at the ready. Hoping that a villain in costume, or maybe even the Sweet Fist himself, would walk in.

They called it villain tourism and Deion was glad for it. He could bend easily with the tourists. Considering the time, the Sweet Fist was probably a no show today, so Deion tried attacking the Wi-Fi. He was interested to know how good the Wi-Fi was, and if he could find some weakness in the security. Deion wasn’t much of a hacker, and the report said that the hacker working for Sweet Fist was good, but he could try to create some backdoors.

Suddenly, he saw a familiar figure walk in.

Deion recognized him immediately. The Sweet Fist had a medium-sized build and walked into the diner without fear. His head was clean shaven, and wrinkles lined his forehead and under his eyes. Despite the clear signs of ageing, he looked lean and fit. He had two bodyguards with him, but his eyes had an intensity that told Deion how redundant the bodyguards were. This was a man who was confident enough to face the world on his own. The corners of Deion’s mouth curled up slightly. It was almost insulting how easy the target was to find.

Every person was different. Every target has their own powers, routine, and weakness. So, the way to approach each target was different. That was the reason why assassins need a diverse array of techniques, ranging from marksmanship to knowing how to bend into a crowd. Sure, there are some assassins who believed that it was easier to just go in guns blazing, but Deion knew better. Assassination was an art, and Deion was an artist. His art was assassination and discovering a chance encounter with his target couldn’t … the Sweet Fist had stopped.

The Sweet Fist was staring at him, eyes wide in surprise. Deion immediately knew that Sweet Fist had somehow sensed his intention. It must be some sort of mystic ability no one knew about. Deion didn’t hesitate and grabbed the glass of juice on the counter. He threw it at the Sweet Fist. Right on the heels of that, he called upon the mana. He lifted his right hand and spread his fingers. A light blue flame appeared on his hand and Deion saw the Sweet Fist ducking the glass. Deion fired.

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The Sweet Fist saw the spell coming but didn’t attempt to dodge. He half-turned his body and raised his arm. The flame hit the arm, and a strange sound echoed through the diner. Instead of an explosion, it was the sound of something being sucked into a whirlpool. Deion saw a layer of bark covering the arm of the Sweet Fist, and knew he was in trouble. Deion called on the mana again and jumped. It was as if he had a spring installed in his shoes, and Deion managed to reach the windows of the diner in one leap. He crashed through the front windows and landed on the pavement outside.

Deion glanced back and his gaze was locked onto the mystical martial artist rushing towards him. He didn’t hesitate. Deion turned, and ran. He quickly dashed down the street, wanting to lose the villain amidst the crowd. Unfortunately, Velocity City was a Named City and the locals had seen enough superfights to know what to do. They calmly walked away from the trouble. This cleared a path for Deion, but he wasn’t confident he could outrun Sweet Fist. He needed a distraction.

Deion opened his mouth and chanted the Word of Curses. A language the people of Nexus stole from the dimension known as the Abyss, Deion put his whole soul into the word and shouted into the air.

“Berserk!”

Pain wrecked Deion, but he was too well-trained to fall. He pushed through the pain and continued running. A strong smell of sulphur spread from the assassin. Several people who had heard the foul foreign word began screaming and fell onto the ground. They were the lucky ones. Those who had heard and remained standing began drooling. Their eyes turned dark red, and they looked at each other with hunger in their mind. It took only seconds for the first infected to lose control. She launched herself at another infected, and brawls soon occurred throughout the street.

Deion ignored them and ran on. He glanced back and saw that the Sweet Fist was in fervent pursuit with his two bodyguards. They had not stopped to help the infected passersby. That was the difference between heroes and villains. So much for the rumours that the villain cared about the people under his control.

Deion ran on but he began examining the area. He turned and ran into a building. Sweet Fist and his two bodyguards chased him to the building and split up. The villain continued the pursuit, while his bodyguards ran to the back in a bid to intercept the assassin. This was precisely what Deion wanted.

This opportunity wouldn’t last very long, but it was a small window for Deion to fight Sweet Fist one-on-one. With no time to lose, Deion immediately turned to face his target. He opened his mouth and used another Word of Curses.

“Death!”

Pain wrecked Deion once more, and he had to lean against a wall to prevent himself from falling. The word for Death was much more taxing than Berserk and Deion fought to stay awake. Sweet Fist’s body froze as he stood rooted to the spot and his face turned pale. For a moment, Deion thought he had succeeded. Then, a thin glow surrounded Sweet Fist and the villain roared. The shout pushed Deion back a step and he saw a faint red silhouette above the villain’s head. The silhouette looked like the head of a bear. Why was it-?

The punch hit Deion in the stomach. Deion doubled up in pain for a second before a hand grabbed his face and smashed it into a wall. Deion fell to the floor and turned over to see a fist charging towards his face. The pain rushed through his body like lighting. He barely felt the follow-up punches.

Then, the Sweet Fist stopped. Deion looked up and saw the old villain’s face. He looked a little sorrowful.

“I thought you were in advertising.” Deion blinked at Sweet Fist’s words. What in the Gap was he talking about? The unsaid question was soon overridden by the Sweet Fist’s follow-up.

“We’re talk more when you wake up. Sweet dreams.”