Novels2Search
GRUDGE BURST - Urban Fantasy Multi Protag Downward Spiral
Introduction Chapter: Naoki Miyamoto - Part 2

Introduction Chapter: Naoki Miyamoto - Part 2

Several hours later, the same day.

8:43 PM

Downtown Osaka

The SAT (Japanese Counter-Terrorist unit) surrounds a capital bank. A hostage situation is occurring at the moment. Several forces surround the building, MP5s and AWPs pointed all around the building. That being said, these terrorists have their own professional measures. Already wounding several police officials, and even a couple of the counter terrorists that entered earlier, things aren't as easy as the Counter Terrorists had thought. Not only that, but threats of bombs being planted all around the streets seemed implausible at first, but seeing the trouble that these guys are giving the Counter-Terrorists, they might not be bluffing. As much as the Counter Terrorists admit, these guys are good.

"Sir" a unit commented to the leader of the group.

"They've already taken out most of the police force and some of our men. What do you recommend?" they asked.

The commander tightened his fist, looked down, and reflected for a moment.

Two minutes passed.

"We're going to have to call them." responded the Commander in a serious tone.

"Are you sure sir?-"

"You dare question me?"

"No sir... well, I just want to know what the plan is?"

"The terrorists have several forces in there. They already said that they have enough food for two days. Even if they take shifts sleeping, they have enough men to cover their blind spots, so playing the waiting and wearing game won't work this time. Even if they run out of food, they already made a cannibal threat- which I'm not risking. We're going to call them.

The Commander whipped out a hand sized conch out of his back satchel. He put it against his ear as if it were a phone.

"This is Commander Ushinada speaking. I want a Personal Sized Pizza, preferably with mushrooms. It's for a party roughly around 30, and to make it as soon as possible. It will be for pick up."

He put the conch back in his satchel.

He picked up his radio

"To all Driver units at base, I need you to make a pick up for a Special Force Unit. I will send the coordinates in text. Be there as soon as possible."

He put the radio down and waited.

The Unit right next to him stared.

"Commander."

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck"

.

.

.

Meanwhile at the Ordinance Academy, meditating strangers behind black screens listened to the call of the Commander.

Wearing nothing but white ritualistic garbs, and white veils that covered their entire faces, these strangers telepathically communicated the one suitable for the job.

Naoki paused his G-mod session. The whispers of those that prayed. The assignment lodge. They're calling him.

This could be the last day he lived. These sorcerers- both young and old, experienced and otherwise run these risks everyday. There is no guarantee that they'll come back alive, much less unscathed. What would he lose today? An eye? An arm? Four vertebrae? The left hemisphere of his brain? How would he come back then? How would he call out for help? Who would he call for?

"Tch...

Not now anxiety, I'm in the fuckin zone"

He picked up his cloak, his iconic dark long brimmed hat, and his flute.

He walked down the halls and stood in front of the screen, waiting for the orders of the mindless zombies in front of him.

``A team of Terrorists have infiltrated Osaka's Capital Bank. There seems to be a team of 30. Abide by the instructions of the Commander. Be sure not to get caught.``

Naoki tilted his head

"Is that all?" he asked

``Specific instructions shall be given by the Commander.``

"Alright"

`` Wait outside the border of the Academy. You will be picked up by the commander's forces.

In the name of the Rising Sun.``

"Hm."

Naoki smirked.

"Gotcha."

Naoki walked for a good while. Exiting past the school were acres of forestry and land that's existence was barely acknowledged by human society. Were any random hiker to wander into the forest, the magic imbued into the grounds would warp the space around the boundaries, and "tie together" the ends of the premises and warp them to the opposite side; literally walking through miles in less than an hour. As for those who are able to use PsychoPower, Magic, or Ki, they would be able to easily negate the invisible borders and walk through the actual paths. Naoki exited the premises and lightly jogged towards the edge outside the border. He waited a good 15 minutes until an armored Truck came by.

"God damn, all the way out here?" asked the SAT driver

"Hey man, privacy, ya know?" responded Naoki.

The SAT units waved off the comment and motioned him to get in.

They drove Naoki back to the bank. On the way there, they gave him special instructions.

.

.

.

As the armored truck arrived at the scene, the news cameras and crowd of people grew restless.

Even the limited amount of information and heavy barriers to the scene couldn't keep the public from wanting to see who the special sole savior was. Someone so special that the Special Forces needed to drag him all the way here just to finish the job. It felt like it was some sort of action movie or video game. A Solid Snake or a John Wick figure to save the night.

As the back door opened, a heavily armored individual came stomping out. Gear so thick and concealed, not a single sliver of identifiable description could be revealed about the man underneath the blanket of steel they called "armor". For all the public knew, this guy actually was six feet tall. Or were they just thick rooted Boots? And there's no way someone has that thick of a torso. The guy is literally as wide as a door. Then again... this is the guy that they dragged along here to take care of business. Some armored metahuman superhero to save the day. This would be the hero for the public.

The metal man trudged along with his Combat Rifle, and entered into the dark overtaken fortress of the Terrorists. Through the tinted windows, the public could barely make out any sight of him. It didn't help that the turned off lights blurred the visage of their savior. The blurred sight gave the public an ethereal glimpse of their dark hero.

"..."

The metal man picked up his radio

"Team, do you copy?"

"Loud and clear, toaster"

"Cool. I'm taking this thing off.

"Taking what off exactly?"

"All of it. It's annoying."

Inside the armored Truck, The Commander already face palmed.

"I asked for help..." he whispered to himself

"And they sent me a god. damn. TEENAGER."

Naoki dropped the rubber rifle, all 86 pounds of armor, the additional backpack, and the radio.

...before picking it back up.

"By the way we can talk telepathically, so I'm dropping the radio too"

He dropped the radio... only to pick it one last time again

"Over and out."

He dropped it for real this time while giving the cheesiest grin.

"(Snarky son of a..."

wait a second

wait a second

I don't know how to talk telepathically???)" thought the Commander.

He heard the teenager's voice in his head

"You don't need to"

"WHAT THE?"

"Hi. Its Naoki. Since I can read your mind, and I can speak to you this way, we don't really need a radio. Say, shouldn't you be used to this since this isn't your first time calling us?"

The Commander responded by thinking.

"I knew you all could telepathically communicate. That being said, none of the other students or agents were disobedient enough to drop the radio entirely."

"Well, I guess I am just ahead of my time" chuckled Naoki.

"Anyway," he continued, "your head space isn't the most pleasant, and I've got a mission to finish. So I'll just update you on anything interesting. See you later.

Oh by the way, I see in the corner of your mind that you're developing Dementia."

"WHAT? Really?" thought the Commander loudly

"No. I'm just fuckin with you.

Anyway, talk to you later."

The Commander sat on his seat... quietly.

"Sir," a unit asked him calmly

"Are you okay sir?"

After a couple minutes, the Commander responded with a stressed groan. He put his hands on his brow.

"I...

Fucking hate this kid."

.

.

.

Naoki grabbed his cloak, flute, sneakers and iconic long brimmed hat from the backpack.

He smiled to himself.

"It's a Friday night.

Let's Dance."

[https://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/kishken/naoki-miyamoto][https://art.ngfiles.com/images/2603000/2603517_kishken_naoki-miyamoto.jpg?f1656581170]

.

.

.

Naoki tip-toed around the building. So far, it seemed that the Terrorists weren't guarding the first few floors. Rather, they were chilling on the last upper levels.

Cool.

...

So what's Naoki's marvelous plan this time?

Step 1: Play it Stealthy.

Step 2: WING IT.

"Hm"

Naoki thought it through his head as he slithered around the halls and made sure to go up the stairs rather than through the elevator.

"I got it" he thought to himself

Telepathically, he attempted to read the minds of those that were in the upper floors.

Large screeching overlapping voices bounced off his mind, annoying the ever living HELL out of him.

Panic. Fear. Violence. Lust. Sadness. Rage. Greed. Cheesemborgor. He had unintentionally read the minds of the hostages and the Terrorists on the floor directly above him. Bad start to say the least.

He regained his composure and began again slowly this time. His mind was a radio, tuning into the right frequencies, pin-pointing where the enemies were and planning accordingly.

"So all of them are pointing their guns at every entrance eh? That's annoying..."

He looked at the ceiling and noticed the ventilation shaft that would logically be close to the one upstairs.

"Alright, I've got a plan. Thing is though..." he thought to himself looking at his feet

"I'm not tall anymore..."

"Should've kept those boots just for this occasion.

...

Nah, these sneakers costed 13,000 Yen; no way am I going to not wear them on a mission."

He whipped out his flute, pointed it upwards and hoped to god nobody was looking.

He proceeded to hop directly underneath the vent whilst playing a soft tune.

Though since the hopping would mean every second there was an exasperated whistling sound that made the tune sound rather off-kilter, it was Naoki's only choice. At least until he found a new plan.

.

.

.

Meanwhile upstairs, the Terrorists and Hostages heard a subtle odd, yet comforting tune.

"... The hell is that?" asked one of the Terrorists.

"Charlie, you playin' your fockin 'its the 19th century and you're an evil villain taking over the world to classical music' shit again?"

"No Declan," responded the other Terrorist

"I would never do that on a mission like this."

The hostages and Terrorists looked around in a confused and almost dazed tone.

"IS IT ONE OF YOU FUCK'S RING TONES???" shouted one of the Terrorists.

"IF YOU DON'T START SIGNALING WHO IT IS, I'M POPPING HEADS."

The Hostages started looking even more frantically as their lives were in greater jeopardy.

As much as the Terrorists tried to distract themselves with forced anger, the tune rang even louder in their head. The vision of white, yellow, and pink fields of blooming poppies and dandelions filled the minds of everyone in the room. The Terrorist's and Hostages eyelids were drooping down as dumbbells forcefully dragged their eyes shut. The smell of enticing fruits and fragrances filled the noses of those who listened to the tune. A euphoric bliss that covered everyone in a blanket of slumber. Rows of roses fell down. A sky of pink blossom leaves. Gentle statues, warmth of a mother; smiling sun, sin turn to a sunder. Throughout Heaven and Earth, the lullaby echoed; their rest inevitable, nature took its course, grasping everyone's consciousness, rocking them to a peaceful slumber. Everyone was fast asleep without a warning.

.

.

.

Soon after, Naoki climbed up the stairs and went into the room, sporting a smug grin.

"Skitchura"

The teenager stood over the slumbering bodies as he counted the number of terrorists in the current floor.

He telepathically communicated with the Commander.

"12 down. Only need like 18 left if the number of Terrorists earlier was correct."

The Commander thought back

"I hate to say this but, great job. If you spot any officers or men from my unit, please make sure they aren't in critical condition, and do what's necessary to keep them safe. I highly doubt they're in any position to move or fight back, but if you rescue them, please have them escort the hostages safely."

Naoki looked around

"Sorry dude, not gonna happen. All the Officers and men from your unit are bruised and knocked out cold. Thankfully, nobody's dead yet, but I'd recommend starting to get your men to pick them all up. I only have a couple of floors left from the looks of it, but seeing as how these guys have bullets in them from who knows how long ago, I think it's the best course of action."

The Commander nodded

"Great. I'll send them in right now."

"Just don't let them get in my way" responded Naoki.

The Commander squinted.

"Pardon?"

"No, not like an asshole type of way; I'd just say to have them at least one or two floors under me just so that I don't accidentally knock them all out when I intend on knocking out the other Terrorists. Avoiding friendly fire, y'know?"

"I understand. I'll send them inside the building in eight minutes. Over and Out."

The telepathic call ended.

"Alright, now just to do this like 3 more times and then I can go back to playing GMOD until 4 in the morning."

.

.

.

He proceeded to the exact same plan upstairs.

Little caveat though.

It seems these troops were better trained than the ones downstairs, seeing as how they reacted quicker and spoke to their radios. They alarmed the others about a sound that grew louder before they all went to sleep.

"Well shit." thought Naoki

"I thought I could just cheese this entire mission, but it looks like they want me to THINK this time. Even though I want the rest of the team to be as stupid as the one downstairs, I can't really help but to play it smart and deduce that the boss isn't fuckin stupid. GOD. I actually have to TRY this time" he blurted out before he covered his mouth.

"..."

"Yeah. They definitely heard that one...

Great job Naoki

Thanks I know" he responded to himself, losing his shit on the spot.

FUCK!

He slapped himself.

"FOCUS" he whisper-shouted to himself.

He sighed.

"So now, what are my tools..."

He looked to the left of him. An Elevator.

"Hm."

"..."

"..."

"Lightbulb."

He pushed the elevator button.

The metal coffin pulled up through the levels until it reached his floor.

DING!

"Hm."

"This always works in movies." he said to himself with a smug grin.

.

.

.

Meanwhile upstairs, all the snakes pointed their machine guns at the elevator entrance. Their cold, unblinking stares concentrated on those metal doors. The sound of their leather gloves squeaked as they tightened their grip. With repeated training, all of their crosshairs and lasers overlapped one another into a single, glaring red dot the size of a fist. Silence befell them. Each terrorist could only hear the sound of their slow breathes. Their hearts muted. Their brains concentrated. The whirring of the elevator was the loudest thing in the entire space. So busy with the task, that they ignored the hostages tied in the back. The very frame that those doors open, they'll rain hell upon that Teenager.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

DING!

The doors opened.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATTATATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATATTATATATATATTATATATATATTATATA

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The deafening sounds of machine gun fire rang all around the Bank. Several hostages would immediately receive ear drum damage. Hundreds of casings littered the floor as if someone dropped an open bag of rice and threw it everywhere. The sounds of the guns dry firing from the lack of ammunition proceeded to occur for a couple of seconds. There was barely a wall left in the elevator. Frankly, there was barely an elevator left. In a matter of seconds, the remaining part of the elevator that held itself together was seconds away from ripping and falling into the abyss down below. All that was left were the lingering smokes coming from the barrels.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

.

.

.

One of the terrorists then realized it.

"Huh.

Heh.

Hah.

Hahah.

Hahahaha!"

The other Terrorists looked at him in confusion and asked

"What's so funny?"

He responded.

"This guy! Oh man... For being some super soldier, this guy sure does watch a ton of movies. Or... he's just too fucking stupid

He's hiding in the ceiling of the elevator and he's going to do a surprise drop down on us."

He grabbed a grenade from his pouch.

"Like I'm going to let that happen."

"FIRE IN THE HOLE, TAKE COVER"

All of the Terrorists ducked and hid behind the walls as they covered their ears and braced themselves.

He pulled the pin and threw the grenade into the elevator, eviscerating the little remains of the lift.

An ear-piercing explosion rang throughout the entire bank as several glass planes exploded from the shockwave alone.

.

.

.

All the terrorists in the room peeked into the smoke.

.

.

.

There was nobody there.

The Terrorist chuckled

"And all of you owe me a beer!"

They all laughed.

All hope was lost.

"Oh yeah I got'cha right here"

"Oh Gee tha- KRRRNNNCCHHHH"

The terrorist turned behind and was immediately met with a brutal left hook that indented 4 inches into his face.

"WHAT THE-" the three other terrorists blurted out in unison.

In an instant, Naoki shifted from his left hook, into a right hook that landed perfectly into another Terrorist's liver. A shock rippled throughout his body from the sheer gargantuan pain. A gut punch from Thor himself, a nauseous feeling from the body shutting down, the Terrorist threw up immediately into his own gas mask and flopped over like a bag of rocks. Naoki transitioned into a swift left kick that landed on another Terrorist's head. Despite the fact that the Terrorist was wearing a helmet, getting hit directly in the face with the force of a sledgehammer is still- getting hit in the face with a sledgehammer. No matter what man-made high grade tier of armor that helmet is made out of, it's not going to save him. And last but not least, the Terrorist that was effortlessly double leg tackled. The enemy was lifted off the ground like a gorilla ragdolling a toddler; Naoki proceeded to jump up and land directly into the Terrorist's head. Again, though the terrorist was wearing a helmet, the weight of another person on top of one's own weight being forced upon the cranium is going to cause damage no matter what. Doesn't matter how thick that helmet is, at best, he's dazed for a couple hours. At worst, he's left a vegetable. Not to mention, the awkward angle of which the neck is landed upon. It's one thing to soak up the shock of the force with a helmet (if one is lucky), it's another if it all goes out the window and they land directly on their head and neck.

Left right left right.

Boom bam boom bam.

1 2 3 4.

4 terrorists down in the span of 2.8 seconds.

Naoki got up from the slam and admired his work.

"Guess training with Naota really helped out in this case eh? I suppose there really was a point to getting slammed on my head repeatedly during training..."

He knelt down to an unconscious terrorist's face

"For you, this might've been the most brutal application of Martial Arts forced upon you. But for me?

It's just Friday."

One of the hostages chewed the tape over his mouth and spat it out.

"You... How did you get here? The Elevator was blown up!"

Naoki gave the Hostage the dude stare

"Dude..."

He pointed at the stairs.

"There's stairs...?"

The Hostage continued.

"Then how did the Elevator come up?"

Naoki face-palmed.

"Apparently it's rocket science to press one button in an elevator and step out afterwards."

An awkward silence ensued.

Naoki then continued towards the stairs.

The Hostage frantically moved.

"Wait! Aren't you going to untie us?"

"That job's for the other guys that are coming in a bit. I just need to kick some guy's ass and call it a night. Hang tight!"

The teenage knight disappeared up the dark stairs... all while ignoring the curses that the hostage threw at him.

Naoki used the same telepathic-radio sense to scan for how many people left.

"huh... there don't seem to be any more hostages left. And the last guy up top seemed kinda fuzzy in terms of readability. Oh well, must be because I'm not used to high altitudes and my brain's getting funky or some shit."

"Speaking of which, now that the elevator’s gone, the next guy should expect me to take the stairs.

hm..."

.

.

.

Meanwhile, upstairs, A brutish man holding an M249 camped directly in front of the stairs with a sniveling grin.

"HEEHEE HEHAH!

CHUMP WILL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO TAKE A GAMBLE AT BEING TURNED INTO SWISS CHEESE"

"Oh really?" responded the voice of Naoki from behind.

"HUH?"

The brute automatically turned around and unleashed 60 ear-piercing merciless rounds from his gun. He found nothing but smoke, and a blurry crater on the wall.

He turned around again-

only to see that the door was open.

"SHIT"

He saw the silhouette of Naoki's cape flow past a corner. Of course, the Brute responded by spraying a horizontal line past the path that he thought Naoki took, hoping to bisect the little shit. Meanwhile, Naoki's not in a good mindset at the moment either. Currently, he's in a ducked position, mere inches away from being turned into said swiss cheese. He's got a graze on his bicep, the terrorist is wearing headphones while shooting a loud ass machine gun which makes the flute pretty useless at the moment and worst of all, there are HOLES in his GODDAMN CAPE.

"Alright..." he said to himself.

"Let's just hope this works one last time."

A voice rang inside the Brute's mind.

"Hey try aiming next time" Naoki said, ‘whispering’ in the Brute's left side.

"TCH!"

The Brute pointed directly in front of him instead of to the left of him.

"I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU'RE DOING IT, BUT I'M NOT FALLING FOR IT AGAIN" he responded whilst unloading a flurry of bullets.

"Dumbass."

"HUH?"

Turns out, Naoki did come out from out the left side, evading the machine gun that was about to be pointed his way while throwing a meaty hook to the lard ball's face, knocking the headphones off of his greasy ears. The hook stunned him for an instant, before continuing to handle his machine gun with both hands and aimed directly at Naoki's head. Both of them quickdrew their weapons. The flute vs the machine gun. The Cheesiest Virgin against the Brutish Mercenary. Naoki's flute aimed squarely at the pig's head. The Brute aimed his at the lanky teenager's chest. Both attempt to pull their triggers at the same time.

One acts late by a mere microsecond.

.

.

.

A loud bang ruptured the area.

Darkness enveloped the room.

The manifestations of his sins crawled and enveloped his vision. His temptations and vices grasped him. He had realized that the decisions he had chosen to get in this very situation had caused him his own death. He had realized that he was his own bitch to his own wants. A slave that was being ripped apart by his own psyche. The weight of his miserable existence weighed him down. His vision skewed as death's cold grasp wrung him like the little rag of shit he was. His muscles weighed tons. A feverish coldness shocked his body instantly. A gut wrenching feeling deep in the stomach that made him vomit only clear liquid. The chemicals in his brain were halted as cockroaches and spiders crawled into his skin and eyeballs. Wriggling insects ruptured all throughout his body. Desperately trying to take them all off, only for the burden of his own body's weight to halt him from succeeding in such a simple task. The melted figure of an infinite ooze. Suffering like the little greaseball he was. All while the voices of God and the Devil berated him in unison, cackling at his suffering as an awful chorus of noise invaded his mind.

The Brute looked pathetically at Naoki.

With eyes that faced in jagged directions, the Brute cried with desperate tears.

"WHA- WHAT DID YOU DO????????"

The Mercenary continued to squirm and seize on the floor with no hope of stopping. Seemingly infinite pain enveloped his person, frying his neurons to the point of being unable to feel anything else. A twisted feeling. A distorted point of view. Suffering.

Naoki knelt down at the living corpse that was the Brute's disabled body.

The imp smiled and responded.

"Your mother."

Naoki dusted himself off.

"I always wanted to do that.

Now... on to the last guy."

Naoki didn't rush himself as he sauntered up the stairs, bracing himself for what the big bad guy would look like. Is he going to be some douchebag in a suit waiting patiently for him? Is he going to be a bigger, badder brute than the last guy? Is he going to be some pig monster? Or is he going to be a... she?

"Man, I sure hope it's the last one," thought Naoki to himself.

"That'd be soooo hot."

There it was.

The CEO's gate's.

Naoki slicked his brim, dusted himself off and calmed his nerves.

"Iiiiits Showtime!" he whispered to himself one last time.

.

.

.

Naoki kicked the door open as he played a jovial tune on his little flute. There he was. The leader of the Terrorist group. A bald man that had his fair share of scars and burns. Wearing a bulletproof vest, appropriate pants and shirt for the occasion, and look at that! He's holding a bolt-action AWP. Because of course he is.

Silence was met between the two.

"..."

"..."

.

.

.

The leader broke the ice with his fluent Japanese skills, as well as a cold, shivering growl of a voice.

"You look like a fucking moron."

Naoki responded.

"...Trust me, I'd love to clap back but god DAMN you are not pleasant to look at."

The leader chuckled.

"So this is who they send after me. A kid in a pilgrim costume. Je-sus christ. This is more embarrassing for you than it is for me. Honestly!"

Noaki cut him off.

"I know you're going to villain monologue, and you're going to hate me me for this but- I don't care"

The Villain's arrogant smirk disappeared into a cold frown.

"You're going to die paralyzed and with a slit throat."

Naoki threw his hat at the villain.

Of course the villain dodged it.

"You trying to do an Oddjob impression? You should work on your throwing skills." commented the Villain

"No. I threw it just so that you would stop talking. Unfortunately, I failed."

Naoki sprinted at the Villain, throwing a combination of punches while throwing kicks in there to disorient him. Turns out, even the amped up spiritually powered teenager couldn't keep up against the guy who's been a mercenary for a couple decades.

"You're good kid," commented the Villain as he parried Naoki's strikes with mild difficulty.

"But not good ENOUGH"

The leader parried Naoki's elbow and threw an elbow of his own towards Naoki's nose, then immediately sending a one inch punch towards Naoki's sternum.

Naoki flew away from the blast. He tumbled and rolled aggressively. His breathing was jagged and painful. His entire diaphragm felt like a shotgun just exploded all over it. Most of his ribs had just turned into dust. He was bleeding and coughing up copious amounts of blood.

The Villain gave a disgusted look.

"Whaaaaat? Are you not impressed?

...Oh...

Come on

Of course I know Ki manipulation. How else would I be such a badass? Mercenary work isn't just the guns you carry. It's the mentality of survival. And when you're out of bullets, the only way to do your job properly is by-"

The villain reinforced his leg with steel like durability, and kicked Naoki in the stomach with his harshest vigor. A loud THWACK was heard.

"-doing it with your own two hands."

"HHHHHNNNNGGGG....fucker" wheezed Naoki.

Naoki pulled out his flute and inched its mouth piece towards his lips.

"Tch. Alright." scoffed the Mercenary leader.

The villain walked back to the desk, picked up his Sniper Rifle and casually aimed it perfectly at Naoki's neck.

Bang.

Naoki stumbled to the floor holding his neck. Bleeding profusely, he didn't expect it to end like this.

He had no thoughts other than- "damn."

The villain knelt down and looked closely at Naoki's neck.

"oooohhhhh.... Reinforced Ki eh? If it weren't Reinforced, that bullet would've gone through you clean. Seen it happen before. Unfortunately for you boy, reinforcing that skin only prolonged your suffering. I'll help you with that."

And the last thing Naoki saw was the villain's rough, dirty, and cold metal boot stomp and stomp and stomp Naoki's vision into a black and red screen. The first one was the one that hurt the most. Of course each one hurt, but the more the stompings continued, the more the impact numbed; the smell of iron and the warm red liquid oozed down his consciousness. The last thing he felt were the two textures coalescing together in one fuzzy frenzy.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The villain looked up.

He was holding his rifle.

Naoki was across from him.

"What the...

What the hell...?"

Naoki stood still with a startled expression. As if he just walked in on his hypothetical girlfriend sleeping with another man.

The Villain, not being absolutely ignorant about the world connected two and two together.

"Oooooooohhh... You put me in a trance state with that little flute of yours earlier, right?

And the only reason I'm awake now is because I did some Psycho training a couple years back. Guess I'm not in a trance forever eh? What a shame. If you weren't retarded, you would've killed me by now" he chuckled, shrugging at the notion of such stupidity. "Lost your chance. Not my problem."

"You..." Naoki whispered

"No...

What the fuck dude"

Naoki's heart sank as he had read the truth inside the villain's mind.

The Leader gave a confused glance... only to realize

"Oh... psh, you read my mind.

Yup.

The CEO of the bank helped us. Or rather, vice versa."

"Why?" asked Naoki.

The leader shrugged.

"Robbery is a victimless crime. He gave us all the security pass codes, dampened the security for this specific day, we rob him, cops and special forces are so scared of us that they let us go with some cash. The government reimburses the CEO. Everyone is happy in the end. Hell if anything, those hostages downstairs? A little 'trauma paycheck' to fix up their mood. Everyone gets more money at the end of the day. Looking back, I bet that CEO is having a field day. Yeah, what a day to 'call in sick' huh?" motioned the Villain with finger quotation marks.

Naoki's demeanor shifted into a quieter, intense frustration.

"But you hurt them...?"

"Oh come on kid. We only bruised them here and there just to scare them. We never killed anyone. Er- we never killed any of the hostages really. It's the Police and Counter-Terrorists' fault for intervening; they signed up for the job after all. Only thing I could say is that I hope they said goodbye to their wife and kids before they got a bullet to the temple. It's our field of work, both of our forces know how it is. And anyway in the end, it was just a waiting game until the cops and special forces gave up. We'd only kill a hostage if someone was really rowdy and trying to act like a hero. And you never know when they send in the big guns, or well, I do now. But even then, it's not good enough." he chuckled.

Naoki's mouth was filled with a sour taste. As if someone had came in his mouth. As if the stench of boiled rotten egg had filled the room. A disgusted expression filled with vile vengeance. His mouth quivered; drool pooled out. His jaw unhinged; his teeth revealed themselves like some feral jungle creature. An intense blank stare as his pupils vibrated in place with sheer aggression.

Naoki took off his cloak, revealing a tank top.

No words left his mouth.

"Kid, go home. I'm going to win this. There's no reason for you to even try. Everybody wins at the end of the day. I really don't understand why you're doing this. What do you get from it? The validation of being some sort of good guy? Come on. Grow the fuck up. There's no such thing as heroes in this world; only people trying to get paid."

"I'm not trying to be a hero. It's exactly like you said, I'm just doing a job" responded Naoki while cracking his neck and knuckles.

The leader rolled his eyes.

"If you want to fight so badly, then you leave me no choice. I don't like killing children... but damn. Am I good at it." taunted The Leader.

"Fighting here... the top of a Tower... that'd be a cool way to die." commented Naoki as he marched confidently towards the Leader.

"If you think you're going to lose before the fight starts, you will lose. Didn't they teach you that?"

"I was talking about you."

The leader gave a grotesque and malevolent snicker.

The teenager took his last deep breathe and whispered to himself

”In the name of the Rising Sun”

The Villain pulled the trigger of the AWP.

```Ki Technique: Deflector```

Naoki proceeded to slam his fist directly into the Sniper's bullet mid trajectory.

He looked at his hand.

A 50 BMG Heavy Caliber Bullet was lodged in his hand, splitting it in half.

"huh..."

"Guess you were right, Naota..."

The numb sensation in his right hand slowly eased up to burning hot lava. The adrenaline barely kept Naoki sane. The pain.

The pain. The pain. The pain. Life is all about pain. And in order to enjoy life. You. Must. Love it.

Naoki sprinted at Mach speed towards The villain who was in awe before he could chamber another round.

The Merc dropped the rifle and whipped out his knife, aiming directly towards Naoki's heart. Naoki proceeded to plunge his left hand directly into the knife. Using Reinforced Skin, Naoki forcefully closed the wound on his left hand so that the knife wouldn't slice it clean off. With the Villain stuck for a few seconds, Naoki kicked the Villain in the balls. And even while wearing a crotch protector, the force was enough to crack the piece. As the Villain leaned forward from the low blow, his face was met with Naoki headbutting him with vigor and rage. Naoki finally threw his most powerful kick to the inside of the villain's right knee, dislodging it; the mercenary fell down. Naoki wouldn't dare let this opportunity go to waste.

He heard his Naota's words ringing in his ears.

Pain sucks. Pain drives you crazy. But that pain and craziness is that wake up call that makes you realize you're alive. Let that craziness guide you. For better or for worse.

Naoki jumped up and attempted to stomp on The villain's head. The Villain rolled to his good side and tried to get up with one knee. His face was then greeted by one knee.

The villain transferred the energy of his roll to stand up. Of course this was a massive pain for him, considering one of his legs was facing the wrong way. But he'd rather fight back than become a victim to this fucking maniac.

As Miyamoto chased after his enemy, The leader responded back with a couple of punches that they traded each other with, as well as sending a clean high kick to the face.

Unfortunately, Naoki was already used to High kicks from Naota so arching back and dodging them was automatic nature for him. He punished the whiffed kick by grabbing the sideways facing Villain, suplexing him up high, and slamming his neck directly on the floor. It would've left any ordinary man paralyzed at that point.

The merc stood up shaking. Both of them were bruised, bloodied, and full of vile disdain for the other.

The leader, so blind with envy and rage, being bested by someone half his fucking age, ran and tried to tackle Naoki.

The villain's hand met with Naoki's legs.

Naoki, denying the tackle, propped up the leader at an awkward stature, and placed his teeth onto the villain's nose.

"Got your nose."

SHRRRRIIPP

A guttural shriek so loud, the entire town square heard it.

A noise so inhuman, people weren't sure if they were imagining it or not.

The Villain fell down and frantically clasped his hands over his nose- or at least the place that used to be his nose. Stumbling backwards, the leader looked all throughout the room for options. The gun was far away. The radio worked... but with all of his men down, there'd be no point! There's got to be something...anything! The pain was so overwhelming, the shock had started to lose its effect. The stench of iron was the only thing he could sense. Blood and sweat covered his eyes, he could barely see the menace that was approaching him. What to do...WHAT TO DO...

This kid.

What the fuck is this kid?

"Why!?" shrieked the villain with a single tear in his eye.

"Because I hate you" snarled Miyamoto.

Both of them stared at each other.

Blood loss and energy consumption was getting the most of them.

"(I'm tired.

So tired.

The only reason I'm even awake is because I hate this guy so much I want to ensure he dies a painful death)." thought Naoki to himself.

Naoki fell to the floor. He limped towards the Villain and closed his eyes. He felt as if he stood up. He heard footsteps behind him. He hoped people were watching, as he used the last of his remaining might to kick The villain out the glass window.

.

.

.

.

.

Couple days have passed.

Naoki was in the Ordinance Academy hospital getting healed from all his injuries.

The Commander was impressed by the work that Naoki accomplished. There were no hostages, officers, special forces or even Terrorists that were killed while Naoki was operating. He suggested good strategies with the deployment of the Special Forces Units, and just did what he was asked to do. Simply outstanding. They would've treated Naoki for the good work, but since he was unconscious when the Units found him, and if he didn't have blood supplied to him immediately, he would've died. So instead, they sent him a congratulatory letter and a white Hershey's bar.

Naota and a couple other students were hanging around Naoki while he was recovering. They were impressed by the strategies and sense of humor that he employed when he explained his exploit. Not only that, but he got to play GMOD while in bed with no assignments for some time. Cool.

Despite the celebrations, Naoki was bothered by some thoughts while he was playing. Those inevitable thoughts that one gets; doing one thing while they're in a completely separate place as one would say. The student asked Naota some things while they were alone together.

"Hope the Commander wasn't mad about the whole destruction of property thing. I understand not everything can be salvaged, but at least I did the best I did y'know? And I'll take that."

"Exactly!" agreed Naota.

"Though, I think kicking that guy out the window was a bit overkill, so I do want to say sorry about that."

"Window? Pssshhhh, the hell are you talking about?" chuckled Naota while he gave his comrade a confused stare.

A long pause between the two occured.

Naoki's expression turned from one of regret, into one of emptiness. His stomach sank. Unsure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Ah." finally let out Naoki.

Naota could read his younger "sibling's" expressions like a book.

That being said:

"Naoki..." prompted Naota, as his expression morphed from one of confusion to one of worry.

"That never happened..."