Let’s turn back the clock to when it all began. Back to the 1980s, when Bob was a strapping young lad on his first real job…
Bob heaved a sigh, the only sound other than the rhythmic clank of his boots on the metal floor. All around him were gray metallic floors with gray metallic walls and, of course, a gray metallic ceiling, lit by the occasional incandescent bulb. Bob swore those might be gray too, but he didn't know if that was the lights themselves or the tinted goggles of his helmet. Why he had to wear a helmet with a gas mask at all times was beyond his comprehension. What he did comprehend was that his nose itched something fierce.
Bob didn't know what he expected from this job, but this definitely wasn't it.
Bob winced as pain stabbed through his right foot. There was definitely a blister there. He started bending down to rub it before remembering how thick his boots were. Heaving another sigh, he leaned against the wall, taking pressure off the foot as best he could. He grimaced as that action caused a dull ache in his other foot.
Would it have killed his employer to give a five minute break on an eight hour patrol?
Giving the break might've killed his employer, but taking that break anyways saved Bob's life.
Bob wasn't sure what happened next.
He heard a loud bang.
A flash of light filled his vision.
He felt pain all over, and a floating feeling.
And then more pain as he slammed against the floor, dust and debris falling all around him.
Bob's heart raced, his stomach dropped.
Sweat began to cover his brow.
He couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched ringing noise.
He couldn't see.
He couldn't breathe.
He lifted his trembling arms with what strength he could muster, feeling as if the air had turned to mud.
He pushed his helmet up and off his head with all his might.
He gasped for breath, desperately filling his lungs.
He still saw nothing but black.
And then a red flash of light lit up the world. Bob could see the floor, suspiciously close to his face. He could see twisted and jagged pieces of metal, torn wires, and broken chunks of concrete. He grimaced as he tried to stand. One of those pieces of metal or chunks of concrete might be on top of him. He tried twisting his neck to look up and get a better view, ignoring the stabbing pain in every muscle he attempted to move.
And then he froze.
He saw a figure in a cape, stepping over the rubble.
And a moment later he saw Jenkins flying through the air.
Bob was not a small man. He could confidently say he was at least average, maybe larger than average given the amount of manual labor he had done growing up.
But Jenkins, now that was a man.
Jenkins stood head and shoulders above his coworkers with the heft to match. There was always some cocky newbie who would call him fat. And Jenkins had fat, the kind of fat that protects the truly strong. Jenkins wasn't some showy body builder with rippling muscles that were naught but skin and bones. Jenkins was a wall of mass and muscle. The ideal form of applied strength. He could and often did lift fully grown men with a single hand, as every cocky newbie experienced personally.
The guys joked that Jenkins was the most gullible man in the world, because he trusted everyone as far as he could throw them.
That very Jenkins now flew through the air like a basketball lobbed from half-court at the buzzer.
Bob winced as Jenkins slammed into the wall, grateful his hearing hadn't returned yet. Jenkins then fell to the floor, a dented wall plate falling on top of him. Jenkins lay still.
Bob pulled his gaze away from his fallen coworker. He grit his teeth as he pivoted his body and pulled on his leg. He pulled himself free, his heart dropping as the rubble shifted. He closed his eyes, holding his breath. But as the rubble settled, he felt no new pressure or pain upon his back, and so he opened his eyes.
His entire body trembled, his limbs felt like jelly and the air like molasses. But he grit his teeth and stretched his arm out. He grabbed onto a metal pole, and pulled himself forward with all his might.
Then he groaned and stretched his other arm out, grabbing yet another pole.
Then another.
And another.
Dust fell on top of him as he crawled, the very earth itself trembling. The ringing in his ears grew softer. He could now hear shouts and gunshots and something like the air itself being ripped apart.
He tried to ignore the sounds as he crept forward. He reached a larger piece of concrete, grabbing it with both hands and desperately pulling himself up.
His legs screamed in agony.
He trembled, feeling as if the slightest breeze would knock him over.
He pulled one leg up, kneeling upon it, then he ever so slowly unbent his knee until the second leg was under him as well.
He inhaled and exhaled over and over, his lungs on fire, his heart pounding in his chest, until the trembling in his limbs slowed ever so slightly.
And then Bob ran.
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The next day, Bob woke up in his apartment. Fortunately, he had not been seriously hurt, nothing but a few minor scrapes and bruises, so he had simply gone to sleep.
Now he got up, made himself breakfast, and turned on the television as he sat down.
He immediately shut it off.
The news was on, showing the burning remains of a very familiar building. Bob exhaled his breath and shook his head as he tried to calm his beating heart.
Ok, he had figured his first boss was a little off, what with the random body armor and gas masks.
And the inability to return home.
And the random monologues and disturbing laugh.
The military-grade armory and the sheer number of locked doors was probably a red flag as well.
But still, he hadn’t expected a super of all things to blow the place up.
He took a deep breath. His heart pounded as the memories of the previous day replayed in his mind. Bob shook his head and walked over to the house phone. He needed to get out of the house…as well as figure out how to pay the bills this month. So he dialed the number of one of his closest friends.
“Chris.”
“Bob, nice to hear from you! How’s the new job going?”
“It exploded.”
“Wait, what? What do you mean, exploded?”
“Exactly what I said.”
“You mean, like, went bankrupt or something, right?”
“No.”
The phone went silent for a moment.
“Well crap. Are you alright?”
“A bit banged up but ok.”
“Sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I need a new job.”
“...are you sure? You don’t want to take some time off after that?”
Bob shook his head as he spoke into the phone.
“I’d rather keep busy.”
“...if you say so. You have good timing, actually. Someone just dropped out of the job I’m on, so we’re looking for someone. If you want in, I can put in a good word for you.”
“Thanks, I’ll do it.”
“...you sure? We’ll be traveling out of the country, you know?”
Bob raised an eyebrow.
“Something wrong with the job?”
“...no but, uh, the boss does prefer it if we keep things…quiet.”
“I can do quiet.”
“...got it. Well, it will be nice to work together again. I’ll come pick you up?”
“I’ll see you then. Thanks Chris.”
“Anytime, Bob.”
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Bob walked towards a garage alongside Chris, a man slightly taller than himself. They both wore casual clothes, jeans with simply collared shirts and sunglasses.
“When you said out of the country, this isn’t exactly what I expected.”
Chris shrugged.
“What did you expect?”
“Canada or Mexico. Maybe the Caribbean.”
Chris grinned at him.
“What, I thought you wanted to see Tokyo someday?”
Bob yawned.
“Someday when I had time to prepare for a day-long flight.”
Chris just chuckled and opened the door to the garage.
A dark-skinned woman stood in front of a table at the center of the garage, her hands crossed behind her back. Behind her stood a light skinned woman flipping through a notebook. In front of them to the left was a group of assorted men and women in casual wear. To the right was a group of men in fatigues, holding assault rifles. Bob raised an eyebrow at that.
“There you are, Chris. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
“Sorry, sorry, cross-ocean red eyes are no fun, you know?”
“You’re not here for fun.”
The woman turned to Bob and extended a hand.
“You must be the one Chris talked about. I’m Cikizwa and I’m running this operation.”
Bob shook her hand.
“Bob, thank you for having me.”
Cikizwa nodded.
“This behind me is Linda, she helps organize things.”
Cikizwa then pointed to the casual group.
“This is Sergei, Minh, Tina, George, and Kanna. Everyone, this is Bob, he’ll be joining you today.”
Bob greeted the group and then turned to the others. The lead man in the armed group stepped forward. Cikizwa nodded.
“This is Laurent. He and his group will be providing security.”
Bob raised an eyebrow.
“Are we expecting trouble?”
Cikizwa shook her head.
“I always expect trouble, but for this operation they’re just insurance.”
“And what exactly is this operation?”
“Now that we’re all here, we’ll explain.”
Cikizwa turned and nodded at Linda, who pulled out a map and stretched it across the table. Cikizwa motioned and everyone moved to join her around the table. The map showed a mountain near Tokyo.
“There’s an old shrine here, whose last caretaker has recently passed. Our client is interested in something stored there, and wants us to retrieve it.”
Kanna, a shorter Japanese woman, tilted her head.
“Eh, you called us all out here for that? The client wants the whole shrine, or something?”
Cikizwa shook her head.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“No, just one scroll.”
“Seriously? Isn’t this overkill?! I have things to do, Cikizwa!”
Cikizwa shrugged.
“You can work on your latest wonder device later, Kanna. If a client is going through me, I assume it’s not that simple.”
Minh, a darker-skinned Asian man, frowned.
“Is that what the guns are for?”
“You know how I operate, Minh.”
“That’s why I’m asking.”
Linda shook her head.
“We’ve interviewed the client and checked out everything we could. There shouldn’t be any trouble, as far as we know. This is all just a precaution given the value of the package for our client.”
Tina, a dark-haired Caucasian woman, tilted her head.
“Why, how much is the client paying for it?”
Cikizwa smiled.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Anyways, the client wasn’t sure as to the scroll’s actual location, so you’re all here to help search while Laurent and his men secure the perimeter.”
Bob crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.
“And is this legal? Sounds a lot like we’re ransacking the place.”
Linda nodded at that.
“Our client has secured all the necessary authorizations, and cleared things with both the Japanese government and the shrine association. There won’t be any legal trouble.”
Bob raised an eyebrow, but if they said that much, he’d let it go. Not that he had much choice at this point, given he was already involved with people holding guns.
Cikizwa passed around several photos to the group, along with some two-way radios.
“This is the target. Once we reach the site, we’ll spread out and search. If you find it, radio it in immediately, and we’ll get out of there. Understood?”
Everyone nodded.
“Good, Linda will explain which areas you’ll be responsible for, and then we’ll head out.”
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A short while later, Bob found himself walking up the stairs to the mountain shrine. He winced as pain shot through his right foot. It seemed the blister from his previous job hadn’t quite healed yet, and the mountain hike wasn’t doing him any favors. He heaved a sigh.
Well, at least the pain would help keep him alert. He had a really bad feeling about this job. If Chris wasn’t one of his closest friends he would have ducked out a while ago.
But, well, he couldn’t just quit a midnight job run by someone with a group of mercenaries on payroll.
And the pay was quite nice for one night’s work, as well.
Eventually, they arrived at the top, passing through several Torii gates before arriving at the shrine proper, several wooden buildings set up around a large courtyard. Cikizwa turned to face them and opened her mouth to speak.
“You all have your assignments, split up and start looking. Call it in the moment you find something.”
And so the team split up. Bob and Chris found themselves in a small office off to the side while the others headed deeper into the shrine. Aka, the least likely place to actually find their target. But such is the fate of the new guy on the job.
It didn’t take them long to comb the place. Afterwards they took a quick break, sitting on some chairs in the office.
Bob looked up at a wall and rubbed his chin. Chris tilted his head.
“What are you thinking?”
“This scroll is apparently worth a ton of money, right?”
Chris nodded.
“Right.”
“So why hasn’t anyone taken it yet?”
Chris shrugged.
“Maybe it’s sacred, or something.”
Bob raised an eyebrow.
“That’s not stopping us.”
“Touché.”
Bob pointed out the window to where one of the guards could be seen patrolling.
“In fact, it’s worth so much your boss can hire armed security just to come pick it up.”
Chris nodded and crossed his arms.
“That’s true, but what are you getting at?”
Bob rubbed his chin again.
“What I’m saying is, this shouldn’t have been the first time someone wanted this thing. Which means it shouldn’t have been the first time someone tried to take it, both by force or by subtle means. Which means…this place should have been prepared for someone to come searching.”
Chris raised an eyebrow.
“So you think we’re not going to find it?”
Bob nodded.
“Where’s the first place you’d look?”
Chris shrugged.
“Some sort of vault, or back area.”
Bob nodded.
“Exactly where they’re looking now. And where wouldn’t anyone think to look for some ancient scroll in a historic shrine?”
Chris shrugged again.
“If you know where it is, then stop showing off and find it already, Bob.”
Bob walked over to a small rest area in the building. There was a television, and one of those new game consoles Japan had recently developed. Bob opened up the television…
He then smiled smugly at Chris as he pulled out a small wooden box. Chris groaned and slapped his forehead.
“I get it, I get it. Don’t be a jerk about it.”
Chris shook his head as Bob kept smiling at him, and pulled out his radio to call Cikizwa.
And then the sound of gunfire and shouting pierced through the night.
Bob and Chris’s eyes widened...
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The wind blew along the entrance path to the shrine. Laurent and his men gripped their rifles as they scanned the path ahead.
They saw someone on approach. They raised their guns. Laurent yelled out.
“This area is restricted! Turn back now!”
The figure ignored them, and continued walking forward. They stepped out into the moonlight, coming into full view.
The men gasped.
Before them stood the most beautiful woman they had ever seen, almost too beautiful to be real. She wore thin silk robes that fluttered in the night breeze. She seemed to glide across the ground with her smooth, graceful steps.
And then they felt as if something hit them.
Their spines went rigid.
Their eyes widened.
Sweat dripped from their brows.
They gasped for breath.
Laurent grit his teeth and bit down on his lip, forcing his body to move. He lifted his gun.
“OPEN FIRE!”
Laurent’s shout shook the rest of the men out of their haze, and they too lifted their guns. The night lit up with the muzzle flashes of fully automatic assault rifles.
Spent bullet casings clattered to the ground.
As did flattened bullets.
The woman sighed as bullets bounced harmlessly off her. She reached into her robes and pulled out something.
It was a pair of brass knuckles.
She slipped them on each hand and then slammed her fists together. A gust of wind surged forward, knocking the mercenaries to the ground.
Laurent just rose to his feet when the girl appeared before him, her fist pulled back.
She swung her fist forward…
And pierced straight through Laurent’s chest, body armor and all.
The other mercenaries cried out and raised their guns.
At that moment, several figures leapt through the trees, soaring through the skies. They wore black martial arts robes with masks covering their faces, gliding through the air as they leapt from tree to tree. They landed in front of the mercenaries before the soldiers could fire their guns.
The martial artists swung swords and spears, cutting the soldiers down. One soldier got a volley off but his opponent spun his sword around, the blade appearing to vanish. Arcs of light formed around the martial artist as he moved at impossible speeds…and then several flattened bullets landed on the ground around him. Another martial artist then slammed the soldier with a mace, sending him flying into the wall around the shrine courtyard.
The woman heaved a sigh and shook her head as she wiped the blood off her fist.
“Mortals.”
She turned to the martial artists, all standing at attention behind her.
“Go, tear this place apart and bring me the scroll.”
The martial artists placed their fists into their palms and bowed.
“Yes, Young Mistress!”
With that, they leapt over the wall and rushed into the shrine.
But as they did, a volley of kunai knives shot out from among the trees, with paper talismans tied to them. The paper talismans had been lit on fire and burned as they soared through the air. As the kunai reached the martial artists in the air, the talismans exploded, throwing their targets to the ground.
Shadows leapt from the forest and landed in the shrine courtyard. They wore black hakamas and metal forehead protectors, with knives and katanas in hand.
It was an army of ninjas.
A vein bulged on the Young Mistress’s forehead as her people groaned and picked themselves off the ground.
“So you idiots left your hiding place, huh? Just my luck. Out of the way, you cowards. This place and everything in it belongs to the Eternal Night Sect.”
A woman with a katana in hand stepped forward, brandishing her blade.
“Not this time, Murderous Bloody Fist. The Village Hidden Among the Trees will stop you, here and now.”
The Murderous Bloody Fist slammed her fists together, a gust of wind surging from her as her brass knuckles collided with a clang.
“Big words from cowards who have been hiding from us for centuries.”
The kunoichi smirked under her mask.
“Your father may be a formidable foe, but you are not him. I, the Amano Clan's Phantom Blade, am more than capable of dealing with you.”
The Muderous Bloody Fist’s face twisted in a horrendous scowl.
“Kill them!”
----------------------------------------
Bob and Chris’s eyes widened as they peaked out the window.
They saw something out of a comic book. Or a horror movie in this case.
There were ninjas.
And martial artists.
And they were fighting, with fists and knives and swords.
Oh, and the martial artists were flying through the sky, and leaving craters when they struck the ground.
And the ninjas were vanishing, appearing elsewhere in an instant. Ninjas seemed to be struck by blades, only to vanish in puffs of smoke.
And one was breathing fire.
In the center, two women were fighting. One, the most beautiful woman the two men had ever seen…if it weren’t for the scowl on her face and the blood covering the brass knuckles over her fists. Her opponent was a ninja woman with a katana. The kunoichi swung her blade and the martial artist woman caught it with a brass knuckle, slamming her other fist into the kunoichi’s stomach. The kunoichi flickered as the fist passed straight through her…before a dozen transparent clones appeared all around the martial artist. Metal clashed against metal. Arcs of light appeared as the clones each slashed at the woman, only to be dispelled by the woman’s mighty fists. Every swing of her hands sent gusts of wind surging across the courtyard.
Chris started to tremble.
“What on Earth is going on…”
Meanwhile, Bob’s eyes narrowed.
“Supers. Duck!”
He grabbed Chris and pulled him down, out of view of the window. He pulled Chris by the hand and to the side, just as a ninja crashed through the window behind them, groaning as he landed on a table. Chris snapped out of his shock just as Bob ran past him and opened the back door. The two crept along the wall of the courtyard, heading to the back of the shrine. They ducked as a sword flew overhead and smashed the courtyard wall to their side. Behind the next building, they found Kana and Sergei, crouched along the ground. A dead soldier lay beside them.
“Come on!”
Bob and Chris grabbed their trembling coworkers and rushed inside a door to the side of the structure. Bob then stepped out and reached into the fallen soldier's pocket, quickly grabbing something and stuffing it into his own. It turned out it wasn't a gun but he had no time to complain.
He wasn't sure what he'd do with this yet but any weapon was better than nothing.
Then he jumped up and ran into the building, slamming the door shut.
And not a moment too soon, Bob had barely closed the door when he heard stray knives thud into the wood.
In the main shrine, the survivors gathered, huddled in a circle. Minh was curled up by the wall, Tina was glancing all over the room, Linda was trembling on the ground, and Cikizwa was gripping her head and muttering.
And two martial artists stood over them, hefting their blades. Bob and Chris ducked into the shadows to observe. Just then the doors to the structure flew off their hinges, and the martial artist woman from the courtyard marched inside.
Bob started whispering to Chris and handed him something. Chris nodded and went back towards the side door.
Meanwhile, the woman walked up to the group on the ground. A vein bulged on her forehead, and her robes had small cuts all over them.
“I hate those cowards. They’re weak as crap but stupidly hard to hit. Now tell me you have the scroll.”
One of the martial artists gulped and waved his sword towards the group on the ground.
“They say they don’t know where it is, they hadn’t found it yet.”
The woman scowled.
“Then they’re of no use to us. Kill them and get searching.”
The men and women on the ground gasped as the martial artists turned to them with their blades.
It was at this moment that Bob stepped out towards the group, hands held high.
“Wait! I know where the scroll is.”
Everyone turned towards Bob. Cikizwa and her group’s eyes widened. The martial artist woman just narrowed her eyes at him.
“Do you now?”
Suddenly it felt as if the weight of the world crashed upon Bob’s shoulders, as if the very air was trying to squeeze the life out of him. He could almost see an aura of light and fire shimmer around the woman. Every breath took all his effort, as if the air refused to enter his lungs, as if his chest was pushing against solid walls as it tried to expand.
The woman strode forward towards him, staring him in the eye. Every instinct in his body told him to flee, to submit. He was staring death in the face, a wholly superior being who could crush him with her very presence. Every ounce of his being screamed at him to give her what she wanted, and then drop to the ground and beg for his life. To do anything else was immediate death, his body warned.
But…
It wasn’t the first such being Bob had encountered.
Bob remembered flashes of light, crumbling concrete, and the strongest man he knew flying through the air.
He remembered his trembling legs, his pounding heart.
He remembered lying on the ground, watching the being responsible walk past without even sparing him a glance.
He felt heat grow in his stomach and spread through his body.
This was the second time this week someone like this tried to take everything from him.
And that was one time too many.
Bob refused to give in. He clenched his teeth. He fought with all his might to resist his instincts, to take back control of his body.
And...
He succeeded.
It was hardly a victory. Bob could barely even move. His body trembled, he felt as if the slightest breeze would knock him over. If this woman decided to kill him, he could do nothing but stand there and watch it happen.
But that didn't mean he had to yield to her. She could take what she wanted, but it would be over his dead body.
He stood firm. He retained control over himself, if barely. He did not give into his instincts. And so he was able to hold to his plan.
“Where is it?”
Bob moved a trembling hand to his pocket, and pulled out a small wooden box. The woman raised an eyebrow, but held out her hand. His arm trembled and shook, it felt as if the air had turned to molasses, but Bob grit his teeth and moved his arm forward, just like he had done before. He held the box above the woman’s hand, just about to drop it there.
Just then, Chris stepped to the side of the building, and held the object Bob had given him. A flashbang grenade Bob had taken from the fallen soldier. Chris pulled his arm back and lobbed it at the broken entrance of the building.
The small bomb exploded with a bright flash of light and an incredibly loud noise. Everyone in the courtyard and the shrine winced and shielded their eyes. Bob dropped the box into the woman’s hand and jumped to the side, the pressure fading as the woman stopped focusing her intent on him.
As the light faded, every shinobi’s eyes widened as they turned towards the source of the flash. They saw the martial artist woman standing there with a decorated box in her hand. The kunoichi she had fought reappeared, a bandage wrapped around her stomach. She grit her teeth and lifted her katana once more.
“The Murderous Bloody Fist has the Scroll of Demonic Binding! Stop her!”
Shinobi leapt towards the woman, lobbing kunai and shuriken at her. The martial artist knocked them away with her fists, scowling and leaping forward to pummel an incoming shinobi into the ground.
“I’m leaving. Keep up or be left behind.”
The martial artists shouted their acknowledgement and rushed to fall in behind the woman, as the ninjas moved to block their path.
And so the battle between the two sides intensified and approached its climax.
Meanwhile, when the flashbang detonated at the entrance, Bob landed amongst Cikizwa’s group and pushed them to their feet.
“Move!”
The group ran to the side door, where Chris, Kana, and Sergei were waiting. Bob led them to the courtyard wall where a stray sword strike had broken a hole. They jumped through and ran off into the forest as they heard clanging metal and shouts behind them. They didn’t stop running until they had made their way down the mountain and back to their cars.
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The group stood in silence back in the initial garage, just catching their breath for a moment. Linda stumbled over to Bob, her legs still shaking under her.
“T-Thank you. You saved my life. You saved all of us.”
Cikizwa shook her head and stood up. She walked over and extended her hand to Bob.
“She’s right. We’d be dead if it wasn’t for you and Chris.”
The rest of the group nodded their heads as well. After that, Minh stalked towards Cikizwa, his body still trembling.
“What the heck was that?! I thought you said you weren’t expecting trouble!”
Cikizwa shook her head and took a deep breath.
“I wasn’t. I have no idea who those people are. Or what those monsters are.”
Bob shook his head.
“Supers. That’s what they are.”
Chris swore.
“Sorry Bob, I didn't think this would happen to both our jobs. They really just do whatever they please, huh? Someone’s got to reign those jerks in.”
Bob rubbed his chin, and narrowed his eyes.
“Hmmm, maybe someone should.”
Sergei heaved a sigh.
“But who? We all know the government won’t do anything. Or can’t. Not like they can arrest someone who can punch through machine gun fire like that.”
Bob narrowed his eyes.
“If you want something done, do it yourself.”
Sergie laughed at that.
“Hey, new guy, I’m super grateful for what you did, but don’t joke like that. You saw what they did, what they can do. They tore through professional killers like a hot knife through butter. Us normal folk? Well, we just have to let it go, and stay out of the way. There’s nothing we can do about people like that.”
Chris raised an eyebrow.
“I know that look. You have a plan, Bob?”
“No. But maybe an idea. Or the beginnings of one.”
Sergei shook his head.
“It takes more than a plan to deal with something like that.”
Bob shrugged.
“It didn’t to get you all out of there.”
Cikizwa heaved a sigh.
“Maybe. But there’s a difference between surviving a fight and winning it. I’ve seen all kinds of stuff. Civil wars, insurrections, covert ops, heists gone wrong. But I’ve never seen anything like that, Bob.”
Bob just smiled, and reached into his pocket.
Everyone in the room gasped.
In his hand was a scroll.
“You…what…I thought you handed that over!”
Bob smirked.
“The caretaker of that place had more than one scroll to hide. What I handed over was a vintage collection of…specialty literature that was stored alongside this scroll.”
Everyone’s eyes widened. Bob continued.
“They might be supers, they might be people who can do things we never could, but at the end of the day, they’re still people. People can be tricked. Deceived. Manipulated. No matter how strong they might be. So I think…I think I might try to do something. Someone has to.”
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Meanwhile, a shriek of unspeakable rage cut through the night around the mountain. The Murderous Bloody Fist pummeled one of her followers as she roared.
This shouldn’t have happened. Sure, the mortal had simply handed her a box. Perhaps it was foolish of her to simply accept that it held the scroll she wanted. But she had blasted the mortal with her intent, as much intent as she knew a mortal could handle while remaining conscious. It should have been impossible for him to lie to her. His body shouldn’t have allowed it.
And yet he had. Had betrayed no sign of his deceit, either. And then there was that flash bomb…that was likely arranged by the mortals as well. The shinobi wouldn’t have used it like that, they would have taken the opportunity to ambush her directly.
So the deception was likely planned from the start.
She grit her teeth and clenched her fists, and started to beat another one of her followers as she shouted.
“I will never forgive you! How dare you deceive me, Young Mistress Xiong Huang of the Eternal Night Sect! I will never forgive you for this insult, a thousand deaths is too good for you! That mortal, whoever he is, I will find him, and I will kill him! I swear it!”