Eighteen hours earlier. After a long day at an assignment that he took over, Jules comes back to his "abode" to rest. It's a temporary apartment rented out by the CIA. Jules sat on an old, worn couch. A pretty bland room with grey painted walls. The only furnishing that was in the room was an old CRT TV that was on the ground, a fridge, an oven, and blinds that blocked any sliver of sunlight. The glow from the TV blasted Jules with a sitcom from the mid 2000s. With a tired stare, Jules rested his fist on his cheek. His eyes went heavy. Every so often the obnoxious laughter of the family from the TV woke him up. Nevertheless, the droning of stock laughter and tired jokes repeated the cycle of wearing him down and waking him back up again.

The longer the shows went on, the more the quality deteriorated. Clear English and casual lingo oozed into slurred phrases and garbled gibberish. Jules then remembers the flaw of satellite TVs. The color began to lose focus as well, only showing a skewed black and white picture. Jules, in a drowsy haze wonders why there were so many shows with such lazy cinematography. The more they continued the lazier the production went. It became less about characters talking to each other and more akin to children shows, simply staring into the camera, talking to the audience. The distant, warped smiles. Those deadpan stares. "Stop looking at me," he thought. "Stop looking at me like that." Stop looking at me.

"Sthbdcs." A distorted voice calls out.

Jules' body tightens. The air gets denser. He's unable to move his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a scribbled, pitch black silhouette. A vibrant smile. The mouth gets closer to his face. Hands press onto his inner thigh. The sensation grows. Up his chest. Up his neck. Air flows near his ear. A whisper.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Jules wakes up.

It's the apartment's buzzer. Half awake, Jules stumbles towards the microphone. "Y-yeah? Who is it?"

"Dude, I've been calling you for like 30 minutes, why haven't you responded yet?"

It was Vincent.

"Oh." Jules facepalms and pinches his brows. "What happened?"

"What happened? It's already 9 in the morning, what do you mean what happened? We have a job to do."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry I've just been working overtime so... yeah. Also don't we have to do the job way later?"

Silence.

"...Vincent?"

Knock knock knock.

Jules peaks through the door hole. It's Vincent's magnified eye looking back.

"I figured I might as well climb up the 5 stairs just to talk to you," says Vinny through the door. "Also what are you listening to? Is that TV static?"

"No," calmly says Jules, turning off the TV.

"...Right. Anyway, I was also thinking of going to Denny's and then hitting the road. How about it?" asks Vincent.

Jules sighs. "Yeah that's... that's a good idea. Let me just take a shower and then we can head out."

There Vinny waits, daydreaming how the job will play out.

.

.

.

Present time.

Within the middle of the field, the sound of whirring machinery gets louder. Mikey glances at the glow coming from the ground slowly rising up. There he sees Chad and Jinsei slowly phase into existence.

"Leaving so soon?" asks Mikey.

Hurriedly, Chad and Jinsei run past him. They both thrash through acres of corn towards the vague direction of the road. With ki coursing through their bodies, they sprint out of the dome. As they run, Chad quickly starts up: "When we get there, should we check up on Solomon in person?"

Jinsei responds telepathically, "No. If we need anything we'll call him. Otherwise, going straight to him might lead the enemy to him. I know he said there's only two of them, but who knows if there's more on the ground hiding in plain sight. I'd rather take the risk of being seen and facing two- if not more people, rather than risking anyone getting close to someone as defenseless as Solomon."

"Defenseless? As long as he's invisible he won't need to fight."

"And when a sorcerer clears a room with a spell, what then? Are you just going to let him die knowing that we lead them there?"

Chad shoots a concerned glance.

"Don't give me that look. We don't know if there's more than two, or what their abilities are in the first place, so I'm just taking the most secure course of action."

Chad purses his lips before nodding.

"Okay then... with that aside, I'm gonna be honest, I'm a bit rusty. Are you confident with that?"

"I know you're strong enough for most occasions. If it becomes a problem we'll quickly retreat."

"Gotcha... one last thing, I know you said you'll catch up, but are you sure? I don't want you wasting your ki just for you to get beat up. Since they're looking for the spike, they've gotta be trained."

"Since I'm an all-rounder, you're technically right in the sense that my ki management is worse than yours. But I'm trained to go for a long while. And more importantly, I already have something up my sleeve."

Jinsei amplifies his ki to the point where he was surpassing Chad's hurried jog. For the first time, Chad notices two holes in the back of Jinsei's jacket. Chad asks, "what is it?"

"Do you remember about the artifacts that I stole?"

"Yeah?"

"This is one of them."

With a grand leap, what sounds like a large cluster of magnets clatter endlessly. Jinsei's silhouette morphs into something greater.

"...I see," says Chad. "Well then, I'll see you there."

Just as the two of them finally exit the fields, Chad kicks his ki straight to maximum output, and blurs down the road. Not too far behind, Jinsei follows. A flapping noise ensues.

.

.

.

Sixty miles away, Vincent and Jules are in a four star hotel's room. The door is locked, the blinds are shut, and the light is on. Littering the ground are large clumps of cotton. Ripped pillows, tattered blankets, chair cushions, and bed innards are scattered all across the floor. The closet is destroyed, its shelves laid across the floor. The TV is gutted, with its frame and wires exposed. Both breathing heavily, two agents sit down on the ground. Vincent grits his teeth and squints at the mess. Jule's blankly stares at the ceiling and breathes out a tired sigh.

Vincent breaks the silence.

"I mean look at this! Who the hell hides a rail road spike this hard? What is wrong with these people, I swear."

"Well...it would be pretty stupid not to."

"Yeah- I get that but, that doesn't make it any less annoying. I mean jesus man, didn't you say you wanted to join the spiritual branch to get away from the old jobs? Well then what the hell is this? We're back at square one. Besides, are you even sure we're in the right room?"

"Very." Jules pulls out a flip phone. "The radar is very accurate when it comes to these things. It can't be in the rooms right next to us since the beeping is most prevalent here, and it can't be the rooms above or below us for the same reasons."

"Well then I don't know how to tell you but, unless we see a suspiciously spiked-shaped box, it's not here."

"That's what I fear. Either they really did hide it well, whether through magic or conventional means, or in a worse case scenario-"

"It's just the micro-chip."

"Yeah."

"Well, I think you already know what happens if we come back empty-handed."

"I'm aware. But this takes precedence. Whatever we find, we'll just have to accept it, and worry about the consequences when it comes to that. But for now, I just want to get this going."

Jules gets up, grabs a chair, and looks at the top of the blades of the ceiling fans.

Vinny sighs. "Man, I know you said you're bored with the past jobs, but why do you care so much anyway? I understand our lives are on the line right now, but even in the past few jobs you've been in a hurry. What's up with that?"

"I just want to earn vacation time as quick as possible. That's all there is to it."

"I never took you for the vacation type. What happened to just resting at home? We already do enough as is. Do you think that overworking just to go to Vietnam is gonna be worth it?" Vincent pauses before talking under his breathe, "...ok now that I say it out loud, the beaches do seem kinda worth it."

"Vincent." Jules glares at the other agent. "I just want to get out of here as soon as possible. Stop worrying about it and help me out."

Vincent tilts his glasses towards Jules; his gaze meets Jules' cold, pitch black shades.

All of a sudden, a cold breeze runs through both of them. Through the look, they share the same realization: it isn't coming from the other agent. Jules gets down from the chair. The sensation is coming through the wall. The steps grow closer. Step. Step. Step. Step. The vibrations ripple through the ground; an ocean of ki overcomes them. Step. Step. Step. Step. The agents' chests tighten. Together, they clench their fists and slowly reach into their own vests.

Step.

Step.

Step.

A shadow appears underneath the door. Neither the agents or the intruder breathe.

Silence.

THOOM.

Kicking the door down, a chiseled, tall, blonde man wearing triangular shades glances at the two agents. Visible steam emits out of the man's skin. The cloud of sweat shapes itself into faint swirls that visibly contort the air around him. Stepping into the room, Chad holds his palm up. "Before you do anything stupid-"

Jules and Vincent both whip out their suppressed USP Heckler and Koch pistols, unloading their entire magazines, aiming squarely at Chad's head and heart.

With a still expression, Chad swipes his hand up and down, catching each and every bullet coming his way.

TNK. TNK. TNK. Both of their pistol's slides lock open.

Jules starts, "Well,"

"-shit," ends Vinny.

Chad opens his hand, sprinkles all twenty four bullets on the ground and shakes his head. He tilts his head in a disappointed manner. "Mm-mm." Chad notices that the window is behind Jules. With a calm demeanor, Chad walks inside the room and moves out of the way of the door.

Both of the agents look at each other, dropping their guns while flexing as much ki as they possibly can. Their muscles tighten and ripple. Chad crosses his arms and takes a deep breathe.

All three of them stay silent. Vincent and Jules concentrate on Chad. Chad barely pays them any mind, mainly focusing on the window.

"(...why is he concentrating on me?)" Thinks Jules to himself.

Air sits still. Both sides wait for the other to attack. A drop of sweat slides down Vincent's face. Jules analyzes Chad's every muscle, twitch fiber, and inch of movement. Vincent initiates a telepathic call with Jules; "(You have the watch, right?)"

"(Yeah. Do you need it?)"

"(For once, I'll let you have it. I don't know what this guys up to but, I think with both us jumping him this should be a piece of cake.)"

"(I see. That being said, why is he only staring? I feel like he's going to go after me first. Wait...)"

As Vincent yells "To hell with this," the window behind Jules bursts. In an instant, a blur dropkicks Jules through the door and into the hallway.

"Jules!" shouts Vincent, before getting shoulder charged straight into the wall by Chad. Just as Jules attempts to get up and see what got him here, Jinsei's fingers latch onto the back of Jule's neck. As the doors of other rooms begin to open, Jinsei shoves Jules' face into the carpet, accelerates down the hall full force, and finishes the agent off by defenestrating him. Jinsei looks at the shocked civilians before pointing at them, snapping his fingers, and expanding a wave of psychopower that makes all of them forget what happened within the last thirty seconds. Jinsei looks out the window.

"One down..."

He pauses, then squints at the victim. The uniforms. The connection to the spike. The fact that the drop kick didn't kill him, much less concuss him.

"...no..."

Jinsei steps onto the window frame and dives straight down, chasing the agent.

.

.

.

Falling, Jules' vision skews. Slowly. Surely. The air stops. He stops. Time stops. Afghanistan. Eighteen years old. Or was it sixteen? Time in the military. Was it better back then? I doubt it. Para-trooping was fun... for the most part. So how come I feel like I'm about to die now? ... No. I won't die. If that were the case, then I at least wouldn't feel worried.

Time resumes. As Jules plunges down the fortieth story window, he immediately props his watch to his face. "(At best I'll be close to death, at worst I'll break something)"

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Adjusting the dial on the watch, he turns it towards one second. As the ground rapidly gets closer, Jules turns his body around to see the night sky. He spreads his limbs in a star shape.

There he sees a winged angel coming straight towards him; its arms reach out.

"Shit."

The figure swerves mid-plummet to catch Jules forty feet above the ground; twirling in midair to prevent the shock from ripping him in half. The ginger figure saves Jules' life. There, Jules sees the heavenly figure: a ginger Asian man with prescription glasses, wearing a red jacket, black shirt and jeans, orange fingerless gloves, converse shoes, and to top it all off, a man-bun. Upon an up close look, the stranger's wings are black and reek of iron. Visibly warping its shape with each movement, the feathers on the wings or no more than a physical illusion. The figure grasps Jules by the neck, carrying him higher up in the sky.

With a deadpan tone, Jinsei asks: "you can use magic, can't you?"

Jules doesn't answer.

Jinsei tries to read Jules' mind. Within a split second, Jinsei realizes a problem that he's never faced before.

It's easy to read a human's mind; to read a sorcerer's mind is much harder, especially if they're trained to use psychopower at a competent level. Trying to brute force through a trained sorcerer's mind is technically possible, but hardly worth it, especially if they're actively defending themselves and disrupting the attempt by fighting back. But the point still stands. Whether it be as hard as kicking down a door or picking open a lock, the sense of difficulty is present.

Taking a glance at Jules' mind, Jinsei stands before a great wall that stretches far beyond the horizon.

Stunned, Jinsei can't help but glare at his victim. "So they trained you well."

Jules maintains a straight face, despite his thoughts saying otherwise. He responds by grasping the hands that are on his neck, contorts his body around his assailant's arm, wraps his legs onto the bicep, pinches his knees together, and pulls his entire body against the arm. Jules successfully applies an armbar on Jinsei.

Wrenching his entire body against the arm, the agent feels it: the limb slowly yet surely bends backwards. From a straight 180 angle, to 175, to 160. The raw ki speeds the process, as the resistance from the arm feels more like jelly than bone. 150. 130. Jules then raises his eyebrow. 120. He's faced double jointed people before, but this is-

110.

Jinsei scoffs.

"The effort is noted. However," Jinsei then rapidly twists in place, accelerating until he flings Jules off of the arm, launching the agent downwards. "That won't work on me." With ease, Jinsei contracts his muscles and forcibly snaps his arm back into a rigid state. Jinsei then divekicks straight towards Jules, plummeting his sneaker straight into the victim's sternum. From the angle they are positioned, Jinsei recognizes one of the buildings from when he traveled through the city earlier; "There." The both of them meteor straight towards the top of an empty factory. Naturally, Jules grasps onto Jinsei's foot and applies a heel hook. Desperately twisting and twirling the ankle until it contorts to a grim degree, Jinsei blows air out of his nose and mutters something under his breath. "Kudaran。"

Recognizing that these attempts at grappling are fruitless, Jules hastily lets go of the foot and tries to push himself to the side.

"Hmph!" grunts Jinsei, seeing the attempt. With vigorous annoyance, the sorcerer accelerates further, crashing down through the roof of the factory. As the dust settles, the sorcerer realizes that the hardness of the floor wasn't the flattened paste of his victim's ribcage rather, the concrete ground.

"(Tch. He must've successfully slid off to the side right before I crashed.)" Thinks Jinsei. "(Furthermore, that crash just spent a chunk of my ki)," he thinks to himself, feeling the large sting from the impact vibrate from his foot and slowly rise throughout his body. "Now... where are you..." For a couple of seconds, Jinsei hears nothing but the echoes of his own footsteps.

Seeing as how ki manipulates the body, Jinsei fine tunes his ears to listen closely to the ambience. Anything to track Jules. A slight breath. A Nose exhale. Footsteps. The rustling of fabric from his suit. Stunned, Jinsei looks up. "(Nothing?)" He cancels the fine-tuning with his ears and thinks to himself. "(Well then, I knew this niche ability would be useful someday.)"

Utilizing psychopower, Jinsei [Scans] the surrounding area. In an instant, he senses Jules through the wall of the factory, crouching down with his hand on his chest. Originally, the ability is meant to scan people's emotions, get a vague idea of what's going on in their heads, and track people down whenever hiding in crowds. Despite Jules' mental defense being so high, though Jinsei can't tell what he's thinking, it still manages to do its purpose in tracking his presence.

Tightening his fist, Jinsei runs up to the wall, bursts his fist through it, grasps onto Jules' nape, drags him through the wall and throws him back inside the factory.

"Impressive," compliments Jinsei aloud. "I didn't sense anything from you. And unless they're teaching you advance ki tactics at your level, what you did wasn't any ability. So humor me, what was that."

Gasping for air, Jules struggles to slowly stand back up. With one knee on the ground, his hand still on his chest and blood dribbling down his lip, he thinks to himself: "(I need to buy some time...)"

"Back in the military..." huffs Jules, "especially during covert missions...they taught us ways to breathe almost silently..." Jules slowly yet surely rustles for something within his suit.

"And what about the presence of your soul, ki, and psychopower? It takes a long while to mask that. There's no way they've been teaching you since you were children."

"Well for that I... turned them off."

Jinsei blankly stares and blinks.

Jules continues, "well I know you can't turn off you soul and your mind but, I just tried my hardest to revert them back to the levels of when I started out..." Finally, Jules' hand grips onto something.

Jinsei tilts his head and asks, "but at the level of a human, your ki wouldn't save you, and you would've died?"

Jules shrugs. "I'm just quick I guess." He tilts his head down, grunts in pain, and closes his eyes.

Silence. Jinsei crosses his arms and squints his eyes with a bored demeanor.

Silence.

CH-K

Underneath Jules' suit, he pulls a pin. Immediately, Jules chucks a flashbang straight at Jinsei, continuing to close his eyes and turn his head away.

In immediate reaction, Jinsei nonchalantly kicks the flashbang upwards through the hole he came down from. It explodes above them, echoing out a subdued explosion. "I was waiting for that to happen," says Jinsei.

Jules rolls on the ground, covering his ears. "WHAT?" he asks.

Jinsei rolls his eyes. Telepathically communicating, Jinsei responds while walking up to the agent, "I said, I was wait-"

Jules' bursts from the floor and launches a flurry of rapid boxing combos, trying to catch Jinsei off-guard.

Jinsei, all too aware of the agent's tricks, expected something like this to happen and parries all of the punches with the grace and form of Chinese Kenpo. Each hand swiftly waves Jules' hard punches with ease, preventing them from ever hitting their mark.

“Who do you work for?” Jinsei would ask mid-parry. Jules, refusing the question, instead responds with quicker punches. Lo and behold, the sorcerer would parry and deliver four strikes back. Every time Jinsei kicks, Jules feels the shock throughout his body; blood spills out of his lips. “What are your abilities?” demands the scion. Eventually, after measuring the timing of each punch that landed on him, Jules catches one of them, and proceeds to do a one arm throw, tossing Jinsei with his own force. Yet, Jinsei, along with his mechanical liquid wings, flow with vigor and ease. A black and red ichor that plops down safely, Jinsei returns the favor and uses the momentum that was just used against him to toss Jules onto his back. A mighty crash thunders throughout the factory as Jules slams flat onto the pavement.

"(What the hell)," thinks Jules to himself as blood gurgles out of his mouth. The force of his and Jinsei's own weight vibrates throughout his body. "(Why is he moving so weird? He's so loose. So... fluid. It's like I'm fighting a damn octopus)."

Jules struggles to get up and limps towards Jinsei. He decides to throw a punch. And then another. And then another. If he parries this punch, then simply duck and counter. If he parries that punch, then sidestep and hook. If he parries that one, simply throw another. And another. And another. But no matter what, Jules refuses to stop, solidifying one thought in his head: "If I stop, I die."

After eight parries, Jinsei slips his hand to measure one inch away from Jules' sternum, and unloads his split second strike. He yells as he unleashes his ki.

"𝖧𝖠𝖳𝖲𝖴!"

[FA-JIN] One-inch-punch.

Instantaneously, the force of Jinsei's strike transmits past Jules' skin and crushes Jules' ribs.

Jules' instantaneously keels over, holding his chest.

"Good," responds Jinsei at the sight of Jules. "Now, who are you and who do you work for?"

Jules refuses to respond, concentrating on mustering up all of his ki possible.

"You mentioned you're in the military and you were involved in covert ops before. You know magic for sure, or are at least aware of it. And you know how to at least use ki. There's a chance you're with the FBI, but due to the situation with the railroad spike, and unless the government is handing out instructions to every agency like candy, I highly doubt that. So look at me. Blink once if you work for the CIA. Blink twice if you work for someone else. If you utter any other word I will kill you on the spot."

As he monologues, Jinsei thinks within himself, "(there's also a chance he doesn't work for the CIA. Now that I think about it, there were other people back in the underground who wore suits, so either its a coincidence, or more likely-)" His eyes light up. "(The salesman! They mentioned the CIA was missing their property. So though there's a low chance that this is all a coincidence, there's a 99% chance that this is a CIA agent...)" He smiles. "(I can work with this. For now, I just need him to comply.)"

Standing, Jinsei awaits for Jules' response. Jules in turn, sluggishly rises up, with his hand tucked inside his suit.

Jinsei scoffs. "Oh what now? Don't tell me you plan on using another flashbang."

Jules proceeds to pull out a large knife out of his vest.

"Oh?" says Jinsei with a sarcastic tone. "We already know how this well end. But by all means, do your worst."

"(I've already won)," thinks Jinsei to himself. "(Anything other than his compliance is a waste of-)"

Jules proceeds to switch the dial on his wrist watch to 3 seconds.

He then plunges the knife straight into his head, and with the last milliseconds of autonomy, pulls the knife out. He stands there, inching towards death. His heart beat gets slower, slower, and slower, until it reaches near the state of flatlining.

Jinsei simply stands there and blankly stares.

"What the fuck"

.

.

.

CH-K

After three seconds, a bright light beams out of the wrist watch. Instantaneously, all of the bruises, scars, marks, and fractures that were inflicted upon Jules reverts back to his condition three minutes ago. In other words, Jules' body reverts back to how it was in the hotel: perfectly fine. As the deep gash upon Jules' head sucks itself back to normal in real time, Jules calmly pulls out earbuds from his vest pocket.

Jinsei's eye twitches. "(So it seems their technology department isn't too bad either)," thinks Jinsei to himself.

After securing his earbuds, Jules' bursts straight towards Jinsei, cocking his left hand in the air as if to aim for an over-telegraphed haymaker. Jinsei simply puts his right arm up, expecting to block the most obvious attack in history. At the last second, Jules changes his hand from a fist to a grip, clutching onto Jinsei's arm. Jules then pulls the arm closer to him to get into grappling range. Jinsei rolls his eyes as he comments, "you already know where this will g-"

"To answer your question, yes," interrupts Jules.

CLINK

Jinsei looks down to the hand he wasn't paying attention to. With his right hand, Jules shoves a flashbang straight into Jinsei's cheek.

BANG

Jinsei immediately falls to the floor and screams, echoing throughout the factory.

Jules lets go of his grip on the sorcerer and thinks to himself, "(something tells me if I try to beat him while he's blind and deaf, he'll find a way to kill me using only his sense of touch. Not to mention, flashbangs only last so long. I know I won't win this fight so instead I'll just make a contract. For the next thirty seconds, I will not hurt this man with my bare hands; in turn, this will temporarily grant me enhanced speed. Now, I just need to call hq and Vinny about the situation.)" Mustering up his refreshed ki, Jules beams out of the factory towards the vague direction of where the hotel was.

Ringing ears and white vision, Jinsei doesn’t feel anything. A minute passes until Jinsei finally registers that he was screaming. Finally getting his bearings straight, with blurred vision and droning tinnitus, Jinsei scans the nearby area for the agent. Within four seconds, he grimaces and rushes towards the vague direction of his opponent.

Slowly yet surely, the edge of the city comes closer. The bustling streets and typical civilians go on to their nightly activity. Traffic is live yet loose, friends walk and talk, and the traffic lights are lenient tonight. The louder the city is, the more secure Jules feels. "(At least this way he'll have a harder time of attacking since it might risk causing attention)," thinks Jules to himself. He then rummages around within his suit. "I'm pretty sure I dropped it in here somewhere..." A couple seconds later, he whips out his phone and calls Vincent. Jules frantically paces around, eventually walking up to the edge of the curb, where several vehicles are speeding by. "Come on Vincent... pick up the ph-"

"BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system. 555-555-2015 is not available. At the tone, please record your message."

Jules clicks his tongue. "God damn it. Well at least base will res-"

Jules then feels a very apparent presence behind him. As if knowing full well he is under the scope of an assassin, or marked for death by a bear, he slowly turns around.

Ten meters away, a very pissed off looking Jinsei stands there with his hands in his pockets. His amorphous wings slither and warp close to its host's back.

The denizens are none the wiser of the powers at play. “(Risking being seen is too much of an issue)," thinks Jinsei to himself. “(Though expensive, it’s well worth it.)”

Expanding a psychic field of ten meters, Jinsei shaves off a chunk of his mind. In turn, all the typical humans pause what they were doing and simply stand. The scion walks past the limp statues and stares at his opponent; Jules still stands there, fists clenched. They get up close to each other. A staredown so heavy the air contorts. Seeing as how he’s taken initiative each time, and playing defensively was better than rushing after him, Jinsei waits for his opponent to do something. For what feels like hours, they stand there, waiting. The agent, too busy within his own mind whereas the sorcerer is too concentrated on his opponent’s body; every muscle, every twitch fiber, every follicle. “(Every cell tells the intent of your ki),” thinks Jinsei, remembering the Chinese texts he read when he was younger.

For a majority of the fight, Jinsei has been using a Ki trait not trained by many sorcerers: [Fluidity]. Though trainable, this manipulation of ki is found within Chinese texts that even predate the Ordinance Academy's Modified Vajrayana Arts. Where as most Ki traits hone the strength and durability, or speed of the body, [Fluidity] allows Jinsei to move past those (in comparison), rigid movements. All of his movements are extremely fluid, allowing him to disperse impacts that connect with him, control the flow of his and his opponent's movements, swiftly move his body around attacks, and utilize the most prized technique within Chinese martial arts: [Fa-jin].

Both of them calculate each other's moves. If he does this, then I'll do this. He has a habit of doing this, so I will counter with this. Diagrams atop diagrams of how the fight will play out. Despite his endurance, Jinsei begins to sweat. After several hundred outcomes were thought up in each other's head, Jules rushes in. As Jinsei backs away, the agent grabs ahold of his opponent’s jacket cuffs. Expecting this, Jinsei deduces what Jules was going for: “he’s trying to launch me with my clothes.” With a concentrated stare, Jinsei goes with the flow, preparing to use the force against Jules yet again.

Jules, with the most measured amount of force that he’s ever exerted in his entire life, launches Jinsei two feet behind him. As if twirling a plastic bag of groceries, or playing with a child, the sorcerer gently lands on the ground.

“...What?” He indeed concentrated on the opponent’s ki perfectly. He countered every physical move that hit him. He felt every vibration, intent, and biological function, voluntarily or otherwise, within Jules. And yet.

With a confused look, Jinsei asks, “What are yo-”

THWACK

A bus crashes into Jinsei, before hitting other vehicles with lessened force. Audible crackles and crunches emit from under the bus, alongside some muffled shrieks.

After the crash, Jinsei’s field of psychopower deactivates, waking every civilian up. The ocean of metal upon Jinsei’s back splatters all across the ground in a pool of mercury.

Jules cracks his neck and readjusts his vest; "Hmph." Without saying a word, Jules quickly sprints back towards the direction of the hotel.

Minutes later, clawing at the ground, the sorcerer emerges from under the bus, bruised and bloodied. Several fractures, yet still commanding his body to move through sheer will and ki. “It should’ve only hit my right side… but due to the nature of the flow…” Jinsei grunts before bending over, retching out saliva and blood. He then realizes the weakness of [Fluidity]. Shocked civilians crowd around the sorcerer. A cavalcade of humans and their phones barrage him with “Are you hurt?” “Halleluyah!” and "Holy fuck!" With a look of ire, Jinsei recalls the sea of metal upon his back, and expands his field once again.

“Shut. Up.”

He snaps his fingers. All of the humans freeze once again. With telekinesis, he collects every phone within his vicinity and clumps them all into a ball of scrap and wires. Hurriedly, he then limps towards a nearby park where he sits on a bench. He desperately whips out his phone and calls Chad.

"BRRR. BRRR. BRRR- Jinsei? I'm uh... a little busy here."

"Whatever you do," hisses Jinsei, "do not kill the agent. We need them."

Through the line, Chad audibly sucks in some air.

"What is it?"

"No it's um. Umm... Nah, don't worry, I got this. By the way are you good? You don't sound-"

"MY FUCKING LUNGS ARE COLLAPSED" yells Jinsei through a pained rasp. "Detain the agent but don't kill him. I just let one get away and I'm going to get him now. Make sure they don't find Solomon. We'll figure out where to meet up later. Don't fuck up."

Jinsei hangs up. He clutches onto his phone, almost shattering the device. Saliva begins to drool out of the corners of his mouth. "That fucking cretin... That damn ignorant American." He mutters to himself. "Everyone just has the fucking GALL to get in my way. Don't they know I'm doing this for them? To get back Kai-... everyone. Wouldn't humanity want to see their loved ones again? These people. These... INGRATES. Nevermind that... I have a rat to hunt down."

Instead of enforcing [Fluidity], Jinsei forces his ki for durability while using telekinesis to hold his body together, actively puppetting himself. He gets up and flies up high in the sky.

"Where are you?"