Chapter 19 - Beneath the cloak of night
The orb of energy, now entrusted to Lex, found its new home within a sturdy storage box. With a flourish of his hands, Lex cast an encryption spell, its glow sealing the container. "This should be safe for now," he declared, his voice echoing with certainty as the box clicked shut, secured in the lab's safe.
Ken nodded, the armor retracting into his ring with a whisper of magic. "Keep me updated on what you and Sarah discover," he said, rising to return to the Dark Burrow and reunite with Blake and Ben.
"Leaving already?" Sir Leonard's voice cut through the quiet as he entered the office, having received Lex's update about the portal's closure.
"Yup," Ken replied succinctly.
"Why don't we walk and talk?" Sir Leonard suggested, his tone leaving little room for argument.
"Not at this moment, I'll be back soon enough, we'll talk then if you are still here." Ken declined at the moment with a resolution, his voice slow but firm, the weight of the portal's closure pressing on his mind, tinged with an inexplicable guilt. Yet, he continued his stride toward the teleportation pad.
Sir Leonard gave a nod of understanding. "No problem, talk soon" he said, signaling to Lex.
With a smile, Ken watched as Lex activated the pad. In a flash of light, he was whisked away to the Balal.
----
Ken's fingers danced over the holographic interface, dispatching a swift notification to Ben and Blake about his return. Stepping out into the bustling downtown of Balal, he was greeted by the cacophony of a city alive with energy. Neon signs flickered above, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the throngs of people and hovercars zipping by.
He was on his way to the Dark Burrow. Raising his hand, Ken chimed for a taxi. Moments later, a sleek vehicle descended from the stream of traffic above, its doors sliding open with a hiss.
"Near the Dark Burrow, please," Ken instructed as he settled into the cushioned seat.
The taxi ascended smoothly, joining the flow of aerial traffic before gliding to a stop just outside the Dark Burrow's concealed entrance. Ken offered a nod of gratitude to the driver, whose eyes flickered with recognition.
"Anytime," the driver replied with a knowing smile, before the taxi lifted off, disappearing into the cityscape.
----
Ken approached the nondescript building, one of several recently acquired by him, Blake and Ben. Blake and Ben were already inside, waiting. He rapped sharply on the weathered door.
Ben swung it open with a grin. "You're back already? I was betting on at least a week."
Ken chuckled, stepping past him into the dim hallway. "Some bets are meant to be lost," he quipped.
They moved through the narrow corridors to a makeshift office where Blake was hunched over a chaotic board. Strings and pins connected various documents, creating a tapestry of plans and ideas.
"Oh, hey Ken," Blake said, turning from his conspiracy-theorist-like setup. "Thought you'd be out longer."
"Nope, just long enough to handle the essentials. So, what's the situation?" Ken asked, eyes scanning the board.
Blake gestured broadly at the tangle of information. "We're brainstorming our first move as Vanguard Valor."
"Why not hire some permanent retainers - that will guard the neighborhood from gang violence. Let's also clean up, ensure some infrastructure setup for medical care. Also, we have a lot of homeless around here - let's setup a temporary shelter for those that want it. It'll take a bit, but for now, pour money where we can. " Ken commanded.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Ben took note while Blake nodded. "Sure - we can do that. Where shall we start with finding people?"
"We can use people looking for work within the burrow." Ken answered.
"Really?"
"Really. This is not going to be a fast change, I want it to be. It'll be slow, but we'll hire people outside to hasten."
Blake nodded.
"Now, while that is happening, let's remodel the building not being used currently for housing to medical to school to orphanage. I'll let you decide, but make sure it is great, do not cut cost, but be reasonable."
Blake nodded "Okay."
"Ben - ensure you have enough people to help you with the financial. I'd advise you find people here, and then provide them opportunity."
Ben nodded.
Ken looked at Blake, "Blake, I know you are S-rank hunter, so - while Vanguard Valor is a charitable organization, we'll need to also protect the people of this world, we'll need to form a rift hunting group, for resources and closing these rifts. I want to replace the Hunter Corp."
The pin dropped.
Ken continued "For now, I'll this entire operation up to you both, I'll be gone for a bit this time, much longer than a day."
Ben and Blake laughed.
"Before I head out, get me a manager and an assistant. As soon as possible. I'll need to be able to maintain a lot of stuff to handle."
----
Ken strode through the darkened streets of the borough, his eyes tracing the familiar tapestry of life around him. The air was thick with the scent of desperation, the kind that clung to the drunk and destitute like a second skin. Yet, amidst the chaos, Ken saw potential—a future where laughter replaced the sorrow. He paused before the shuttered doors of an orphanage, its silent facade a promise waiting to be fulfilled. "This place will thrive again," he vowed silently.
The gym was next, a moment in time where he trained. Inside, the echo of past triumphs lingered in the empty space. Finding it deserted, Ken stepped back into the night. Not this time, will need to talk to the owner.
As he surveyed the expanse of his recent acquisitions, a disturbance caught his attention. A group was wreaking havoc, their actions a blight upon the peace he sought to restore. Recognizing the insignia of the Forever Gang, a scowl marred Ken's features. He approached with an air of authority.
"Enough," Ken commanded, his voice cutting through the din. "Forever Gang, leave this place. I won't tolerate disruption."
One of the gang members sneered, his words laced with venom. "Oh, fuck you."
Ken's response was swift. Time seemed to fold around him, the world slowing to an imperceptible crawl. He moved among the frozen figures, his presence a specter in the stillness. With precision, he positioned himself before the insolent gang member, his fist drawn back.
And then, with the force of a tempest unleashed, time resumed its march. Ken's punch connected; the velocity magnified by the temporal distortion. The impact sent the gang member hurtling through the air, a human meteor crashing into the concrete. Injured heavily.
The rest of the gang snapped to attention, their eyes wide with disbelief. Ken stood unscathed, his healing factor closing any minor scrapes he'd acquired in an instant. It was a display of power, a warning that that Ken was not to be trifled with.
The gang scattered taking unconscious member with them, their bravado shattered by the realization that they faced a force beyond their reckoning. Ken watched them flee, his resolve steeling. This was just the beginning. The streets would know peace, and he would be its harbinger.
----
As Ken navigated the shadow-laden streets, a sudden sting at the back of his head halted his stride. A flare of anger sparked within him. Yet, with a measured breath, he quelled the rising tide of fury, his focus unwavering.
He emerged from the labyrinthine alleys of the Dark Burrow, the neon glow of Balal’s skyline beckoning him forward. With a determined gesture, he summoned a taxi—the vehicle gliding to a halt with the grace of a swan on water.
“To the residential district,” Ken commanded, his voice resonant with authority. The driver nodded, the dashboard’s lights casting an ethereal glow on his features.
As the taxi soared through the vertical canyons of Balal, Ken’s reflection danced across the window. The city’s pulse thrummed through the night, a symphony of light and shadow. His coat, a mirror to the world, revealed a contemplative visage—a man etched with the scars of duty.
The thought of a permanent residence lingered in his mind, I'll want to buy my own place soon enough, tomorrow.
----
“He did not react at all,” the subordinate reported, his voice tinged with disbelief. He stood in the shadow of his superior, a figure draped in the opulence of a royal gown that whispered of ancient lineage and power.
The superior, whose eyes were as sharp as the jewels adorning his attire, contemplated the news with a furrowed brow. “Well… that means we cannot simply assassinate him easily,” he mused, the words rolling off his tongue like a game of chess yet to be won.
The room was silent, save for the crackling of the fireplace, casting a dance of shadows upon walls lined with the portraits of ancestors. The superior turned away, gazing out of the window at the sprawling city below. “We must devise a new strategy,” he declared, “one befitting our status and the delicate nature of this… predicament.”