Authors: Brandon Chen
When they arrived at the gates to Z’s mansion,
they opened automatically as if they’d been expecting Keimaro. The boy walked
forward with Gavin closely behind him, both of their weapons sheathed at their
sides. They walked along a tiled pathway made of some type of expensive marble
that led out into a garden and eventually to the mansion itself. The mansion
towered high and looked exactly like one of the nobles’ houses. Compared to the
other houses that surrounded it, this building was massive. The grandiose
pillars supported the red-tiled rooftops. Stone statues of naked angels had
water pouring out of their mouths and into fountains on the lush green lawn.
Once again, it made Keimaro wonder where
all of the money was going to in this
civil
society. Someone living so
high and mighty seemed to have far too much in comparison to someone who was
barely scraping by in order to survive. At the door, he saw a boy, a few years
older than he, walking in his direction. He had snowy white hair with a pale
skin tone. His eyes were an abnormal turquoise that narrowed onto Keimaro with
seriousness. He wore a tight red scarf that was curled around his neck as well
as a white sleeveless shirt, revealing his toned muscles. This was the guy who
had defeated Yata supposedly.
Beside him was a girl around the age of
nineteen from the looks of it and a man who was probably in his early twenties.
The girl had light brown hair that was tied into two ponytails. Her hazel eyes
gave off a stare that would probably make most run at the very sight of her. In
her hands was a type of weapon that Keimaro didn’t recognize, a rather long
weapon with a barrel. It looked like some type of ranged advanced technology.
If anything, it was the single shot rifle that Keimaro had heard about. He had
also heard it took forever to reload that weapon—but, for someone like her,
perhaps it took only one shot in order to take down her targets.
The man had glasses and was completely
unarmed. He had dark brown hair that came down to his forehead, and he wore an
expensive black suit with a red tie as if he were going out to dinner for a
special occasion. He smiled calmly at Keimaro and stopped along with his
comrades a couple of meters from the boy.
Keimaro had noticed that the gates had
closed behind him, and he smiled to himself.
Then no one will be able to see
me massacre all of these bastards. Fine with me.
“My name is Yuri,” the white-haired boy
called out. “I have no intention of hurting you or your friend. All that we ask
is that you come in and have a talk with us so that we may—”
“Show me Yata.”
“Look, lay down your arms and—”
“You know who I am, don’t you?” Keimaro
said, annoyed, his eyes turning from their original dark color into a glowing
red. He smiled when the girl lifted up the rifle and aimed it straight at him.
He saw Gavin tensing up and instinctively taking a step back, but he stood his
ground and glanced at the girl. “Give me back my friend, or I can’t be held
responsible for what happens next.”
“Is that so?” Yuri said, his eyes turning
red as well, albeit a different kind of red. This red wasn’t demonic at all.
Instead, it was monstrous and beastly, as if he were losing control. “Well,
then we will force you to listen to what we have to say.”
A crack entered the air, and Keimaro’s eyes
sensed a small lead ball leave the rifle in the girl’s hands. The ball
spiraled, gaining incredible speed as it soared toward him, but Keimaro’s sword
had already left its sheath. It slashed upward, cutting the bullet directly in
half without much effort. The bullet split and flew around Keimaro, digging
into the dirt behind him. Splintering pieces of lead glittered before his eyes
as he glanced at the girl, his blade hissing through the air. The girl was
staring at him with disbelief that he had just cut the bullet in half. That
amount of strength and reaction timing was unreal, let alone the fact that the
sword was strong enough to withstand the force of the projectile.
Keimaro sprinted forward at the girl, who
was desperately fumbling with her rifle, trying to reload her weapon. The man
with the glasses had taken a step forward to form a barrier between him and the
girl, raising his hands. Instantly, a solid yellow wall was conjured in between
them, transparent as if it were glass. Keimaro raised his eyebrow at the man’s
ability. More foreign magic.
So many freaks in one place. Perfect
.
He slammed his foot into the ground,
igniting a small jet of flame that sent him flying into the air above the wall.
He performed a flip while in the air, generating fire along the metal of his
sword, and smiled wickedly as he came down, smashing into the earth as the two
opponents leapt away. A wave of flame radiated outward from his blow.
Smoke rose from the area where Keimaro had
landed, and the grass around him was seared and singed from the flame, small
amounts of smoke drifting from the lawn. He stood once more and twirled his
sword in his hand as the man engaged him, conjuring a blue hammer in his hand
made from the same foreign substance. Hammers were perfect against swordsmen,
for they shattered their steel and usually overpowered them. However, they were
extremely slow. Unfortunately for this man, Keimaro always had speed on his
side.
The man brought the hammer crashing
downward upon Keimaro, but the boy took an easy step to the side, reading his
opponent’s moves perfectly. He rotated his body and grinned, driving his fist
solidly into the man’s face, cracking his glasses with a single punch. He
released a jet of flame straight through his knuckles and into the man, sending
him flipping through the air and landing several meters away. The man slammed
heavily into the earth, landing on his back, his body going limp upon impact.
Yuri was still standing there watching,
rather impressed with the progress that Keimaro was making against his friends.
He had his arms crossed and chuckled. “Not bad, demon scum,” he called out with
a smirk.
Keimaro ignored the comment and stomped his
foot into the ground, a wall of flame appearing in front of him. He punched the
wall of flame, sending fireballs outward like little missiles at the girl, who leapt
about, trying to dodge the barrage of concentrated flames. But one could dodge
only so much. Eventually a ball of fire caught her in the shoulder and exploded
upon impact, sending her flying backward into the ground, gasping for air. The
boy then turned to Yuri, his hands tightening around the hilt of his sword. “There’s
something abnormal about your hair, too, snow-white.”
Yuri raised his eyebrows and sighed. “You
know, your friend called me the same thing.” His image vanished, and Keimaro’s
heart leapt when the white-haired boy reappeared inches in front of him, his
fist soaring forward at Keimaro’s face.
With barely enough time to react, he tilted
his head to the side, dodging the blow. Wind from the force of the blow blew
his hair back, and his heart thudded with self-doubt. He had never seen someone
as fast as this person in all of his years—not since Tobimaru. He staggered
backward after narrowly avoiding the blow but found that Yuri was already
striking once more with a barrage of fast blows, some of which were impossible
to dodge.
The first blow that Keimaro took was
excruciating. A sinking punch to the stomach drove the wind from his lungs and
damaged his diaphragm. He felt saliva gathering in his mouth as he stumbled
away once more, trying to disengage and rethink his strategy. But Yuri wasn’t
giving him the opportunity, for he leapt forward once more.
Keimaro swept his hand outward, and a wave
of flame shot out, forcing Yuri to take a few steps backward in order to dodge.
He was breathing heavily, but Yuri was simply smiling at him, still filled with
energy.
“Oi, what’s wrong? I thought you were going
to beat me up,” Yuri called with a lively chuckle.
“Shut the hell up, you stupid mutt,”
Keimaro spat, grasping his stomach.
“What did you call me?” Yuri yelled,
reappearing in front of Keimaro. He whipped his fist to the side and slammed it
into Keimaro’s cheek, a sinking blow that cracked the boy solidly, sending him
rolling across the grass. “You’re in no position to talk, nor are you in any
position to fight me, Hayashi scum. Maybe we should just kill you so that we
can end your pathetic species! I know everything about your story. Powerless
and weak … that’s what you are. Incapable of protecting the ones that you love.
You think you can treat others as if they’re lower than you just because you’ve
got those eyes and a few sparks of fire, huh?” He appeared in front of Keimaro’s
body and kicked him across the ground once more, sending him rolling a few
meters away. “Stop acting so big, like you can do anything you want. Four years
in hiding, training, and this is all that you can muster up to fight me? How
are you going to defeat the Bounts with such a lowly power?”
This guy knows everything…. Who the hell
is he?
Keimaro’s ribs felt cracked, and he gasped
for air, spitting blood onto the grass. His eyes were unfocused, and everything
was a blur. He placed his palms on the ground in an attempt to push himself up
once more. But it was hard. His body felt ten times heavier than usual, and his
muscles were straining to pick him up. He felt powerless.
Just like that one
time.
An image of his burning city flashed into his mind. Mai. His mother.
All taken from him because he was too weak to defend them. He had trained four
years to grow stronger. Was that not enough?
Yuri walked over to Keimaro, watching him
as he tried to get up. He lifted his foot upward and brought it crashing down
onto his back, sending him to the ground. “Stay down! Don’t even think of
getting up! You deserve nothing.” Nevertheless, Yuri watched as Keimaro tried
to get up before driving his foot back down into the young boy, sending him
back to the floor. He sniffed the air and sensed a familiar presence. He smiled
when he saw the soldier finally rushing toward him from behind with his sword
raised. Yuri spun around, driving a kick solidly into Gavin’s ribs. With a
crack, an explosion of force sent Gavin soaring across the lawn to slam into
the gate. His body went limp as soon as he hit the solid gate, and he collapsed
to the ground, unmoving.
Keimaro stared at the body of the soldier
who had attempted to save him. A boy who had been a stranger only yesterday was
now trying to save him. At this rate, they were both probably going to be
killed. Then he remembered an image of his father. He recalled his father’s
words:
How many men would you kill to save your sister?
Yes … I remember.
Another kick.
What was my answer?
A third kick.
Yuri rose his foot upward to squash Keimaro’s
skull.
I would kill them all.
As Yuri’s foot came down, Keimaro swung
around, grabbing the white-haired boy’s ankle and redirecting the kick into the
earth. He swung upward and slammed his fist solidly into Yuri’s stomach. He
pulled back, seeing the pain in the boy’s face, and began to concentrate flames
into his palm, gathering fire into a ball. He curled his arm around Yuri,
grabbing him by his back and pulling the boy toward him. “I already promised
myself I wouldn’t die until my goal is complete.” The ball of flame smashed
into Yuri’s stomach. “I don’t break promises.”
Not to Mai. Not to anyone.
Especially not to myself!
The ball of fire grew smaller upon impact
into the size of a tiny marble, and there was a millisecond of complete silence
before a massive explosion. The sphere erupted, creating a huge roar of flame
that extended up into the sky and sent Yuri flying backward. A vortex cloud of
dust surrounded Keimaro, parting around him as he walked forward. His eyes were
filled with apathy, and he stopped, watching as Yuri slowly began to push
himself to his feet, smoke drifting off his clothes.
“Not bad,” Yuri snarled, his voice growing
deeper as his body grew bigger. “About time I took you seriously.” His spine
began to twist and lengthen, stretching upward. White fur burst from his skin
and covered his body. His teeth sharpened to daggers, his eyes still glowing
bright red. His fingernails lengthened into sharp claws that dug into the
ground, his ears growing bigger as well. By the time the transformation was
complete, Yuri was an eight-foot-tall white werewolf, a creature that Keimaro
had only read about in books. They were only rumored to exist.
Keimaro took a few steps backward at the
sight of Yuri’s transformation, his heart thudding rapidly against his chest.
It reminded him of the beast that he had saved Aika from four years earlier,
except Yuri seemed to have full control over himself. He was intelligent
despite his enhanced strength and speed in this new form. Keimaro sucked in a
deep breath of air, exhaling through his nose in an attempt to calm his nerves.
Being afraid was only going to mess with his head. He could not allow himself
to succumb to fear. “Huh, looks like I was right about you being a mutt, then.”
“Enough.”
The voice came from behind Keimaro, who
glanced over his shoulder to see a middle-aged man standing there with spiky,
red hair. His hair was extremely long and slicked backward, as sharp as
daggers. He wore a black cloak that was wrapped tightly around himself, and he
sighed as he began to walk forward past Yuri’s friends, who had gotten up and
were recovering from their wounds. It was that same man that Keimaro had seen
earlier in the day standing at the mansion’s doorstep.