Authors: Brandon Chen
Noah shook his head, unknowing. “I don’t
know! I wasn’t informed about any mission involving a clock tower. I don’t even
understand why they would go up there!” he exclaimed, raising his head to
shout, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the dark jail.
General Mundo turned to face him, lacking
emotion, his arms robotically at his side. “Well, then, I suppose we will have
to extract what you know.”
Noah watched as a second figure stepped
from the shadows.
What?
he thought.
There was no way that this person
could’ve come here undetected by me. He was standing there the
whole
time, and I never noticed him?
A black cowl came over the man’s face, and silver
skull chains dangled from his neck, posing as a replacement for an amulet. His face
was obscured by shadows, and his sleeves ran down much too long for him. The
border of his entire cloak itself was red as blood, and all that Noah could see
underneath his cowl was a wicked smirk filled with evil. There was no doubt
about it; this was a Bount. But even Noah knew that the Bounts were no longer
associating themselves with the government. In fact, they hardly had any
history together other than hatred. As far as Noah knew, the government and the
Bounts were trying to destroy each other. So, why was this Bount member here
working with General Mundo?
“Who are you?” Noah demanded, his heart
thudding against his chest as he thought of the horrible, torturous things that
a Bount could do to him. He wanted to die, to be spared from future pain.
“My name is Danzo,” the Bount said with a
flashy smile, his face still unknown. His voice was raspy and old, as if stolen
by age. He held out his sleeve, an eternal darkness gaping at Noah. Two silver
chains burst from the darkness of his sleeves and lashed outward at Noah,
wrapping around his arms and legs and finally his throat.
Noah gasped, feeling the air choked from
him—or perhaps it was his life. The silver chains began to glow, and the young
man felt his memories flash before him. He could see it all. His father, his
mother, sitting alone at the side of a beautiful lake, outside of the confines
of human society. They were in solitude, a wonderful solitude where they could
enjoy the peace of silence. He remembered his mother’s long, auburn hair and
her flashy white smile that was so bright it could blind even the strongest of
men—that, or mesmerize them, like it had Noah’s father. Her beauty was
incomprehensible, and her blue eyes smiled just as her lips did. He remembered
her laughter as they sat beside the lake on that wonderful summer day. The sun
beat down on them as they enjoyed a picnic on the softest sand that could make
a man fall asleep just from lying in it. It felt like clouds. His memory was
vivid as the scene flashed in his mind.
Noah’s mother graciously handed him a piece
of bread just as men in black cloaks waltzed from the forest behind them,
walking on the sand and kicking it up into the air. Dark, ominous clouds filled
the sky and blocked out the light of the sun, casting a gloomy shadow across
the earth that sapped all happiness. Noah was just a child, still biting on the
piece of bread when he glanced to see the man who began it all, the entire
Bount organization, Kuro.
The man stormed forward as if he had no
time at all, but his smile also showed that he had not a care in the world for
anyone as he kicked sand onto their picnic blanket. He stopped before them with
two of his men positioned behind him. His black hair had come over his eyes and
spiked upward into the air, and he looked only in his thirties with his teeth
showing a sly smile.
The features of his face did not age a bit
over the years. He put one hand on his hip. He wore different attire from the
rest of his men. He had a black shirt that exposed his muscles, squeezing his
arms to make them bulge all the more, looking as if he were suffocating his own
flesh. A black belt was wrapped tightly around his waist, inscribed with some
type of golden text that Noah had not been able to make out. His pants drooped
to the ground, ripped and tattered, as if he had borrowed a slave’s clothing.
But what caught young Noah’s attention were his eyes—those glowing red eyes
that could make anyone stare at them in absolute wonder. The two rubies that
gleamed brighter than any gems in all of the kingdoms and all of the
continents, filled with the glow of life. He smiled and spoke to Zylon, Noah’s
father.
Zylon looked the same as he did now and
retaliated with some words that were muffled in Noah’s memory, incapable of
remembering any specifics. Then Noah watched as horror after horror took place.
Kuro moved forward to strike Zylon, knocking
Noah’s father to the earth with a single flick of his hand. He raised his fist
to smash Zylon into the ground once more, but Noah’s mother leapt between them,
latching onto the Hayashi man’s arm. Kuro glared at her with annoyance and
swatted her with the back of his hand, sending her back into the ground. He
burst out with laughter at the woman’s insolence. This was the first and last
time that Noah had ever seen his mother humiliated and downgraded in such a
horrible way that he could hardly watch. Yet, watch he did, with his lips
quivering and tears filling his eyes. He could do nothing but sit there and
watch as Kuro drew his blade in annoyance.
Zylon had gotten up and was ready to lash
forward at Kuro but was grabbed by the other Bounts who slammed him down into
the ground, as Noah watched helplessly, apparently forgotten. Zylon screamed,
kicking and thrashing as if he were a little boy trying to break free. The word
that left his lips was clear and painful to hear: “NO!”
Noah turned to Kuro and saw that the man
was now looking straight at him with a vile smile spread from ear to ear. He thrust
his gleaming steel downward into Noah’s mother, the most beautiful woman in the
world. As blood sprayed into the air, young Noah grew numb, oblivious to what
was happening. He heard her blood-curdling scream but just stood there, the
bread still in his mouth, though he wasn’t chewing. A pool of blood began to
form underneath her body, soaking into her rich silks as her voice died and
Zylon’s cries replaced it. The young boy stood there with shock in his eyes,
turning to see Zylon watching with a look of despair.
Noah’s day had transformed entirely as he
lowered his head and tears began to stream down his cheeks, realization taking
its place. He sobbed and sobbed, but the men wouldn’t stop beating his father.
And they wouldn’t bring back his mother. All that he could do was cry.
***
General Mundo watched as the boy’s eyes
went blank, the color erased from his irises. His skin began to pale as he
shook furiously as if there were an earthquake. The general glanced at Danzo,
who was performing some type of magic through these mystical chains that came
from his sleeve. He smiled as the chains went limp and retracted back into his
cloak as quickly as they had come, leaving Noah completely limp.
The boy’s face smashed into the dirt as he fell
unconscious, lying there.
General Mundo looked at Danzo with a
questionable stare. “Is everything all right, Lord Danzo?”
“Yeah,” Danzo said, “when you enter someone’s
head, you witness their memories and their pains. You share their mind and feel
everything that they have felt. Their frustration, their agony, their pain,
their sorrow. All of it. I suppose it’s this particular magic that has left me
withered and rickety like an old, used toy for Kuro. Nevertheless, I’ve found a
location for Keimaro Hayashi, and I have everything I need. However,” he said,
raising his head, “the information will be disclosed at the opportune moment.
The Bount organization doesn’t strike until the time is right. And now is not
the time. We will let their band of assassins do as they wish until we are
ready. For now, release the boy. He is not a threat. Not anymore.”
***
Zylon sat at his desk with a sullen look on
his face as he received the news of his son’s capture. No doubt Noah was dead.
That fool. How could he possibly have let himself be captured like that? He
lowered his eyes with a sigh.
At a faint rustle, he looked up and saw
Yuri, Yata, and Gavin standing in the room. He turned to Yata and Gavin. “The
two of you witnessed his falling, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Gavin said respectfully.
“I reached out to him,” Yata said, “but he
didn’t take my hand. Instead, he let the rocks come down. There was a chance,
but….”
“He didn’t take it.”
“Yes.”
Zylon shook his head, closing his eyes as
he finally felt age bearing down upon him. For once, he felt like an old man.
He spun around on his chair to face his large window, looking out at the green
gardens behind him so that his assassins could no longer see his face. “Not
particularly the best first expedition out into the city, I suppose,” he said,
his voice weak. He had learned to control himself for the most part after
having lived for several centuries. He had lost many of his good friends in
that amount of time. He was used to this numbness that he currently felt. “Was
the mission a success?”
“Yes, sir,” Gavin said. “The demonstrating
and testing of chemicals on live humans is inhumane and should be stopped
immediately. The government is being selfish. To make an ultimate empire based
on magic would be effective, but the costs are beyond imagining, treating humans
as if they are lab rats. Treating the homeless, maids, and slaves as if they
are nothing more than animals to be tested on is wrong. They are still human. I
will fight beside you. You have my sword,” he announced, though his voice
showed insecurity, as if he weren’t sure if his own life meant much anymore. “I
believe that it is my fault for his death, sir. I will take full
responsibility. If I had not wanted to go down there into that lab….”
“You brought something back with you, didn’t
you?” Zylon interrupted, trying to change the conversation from his son. “A
human that has been tested on, but survived, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re awfully polite,” Zylon said,
spinning back in his chair, his hands on his desk as he leaned forward toward
the assassins. “So? What exactly do you have for me?”
Yuri took a step forward and began to
speak. “It seems that
it
is a human with supernatural capabilities, Z. I
don’t know what to say about it, but somehow it managed to survive. Its body
enables it to actually use two different types of magic at the same time,
something that usually isn’t capable unless it steals its magic from a foreign
power that isn’t from this world, like Keimaro or Kuro,” he said, and Zylon’s
body stiffened.
“How is that possible?”
“We don’t know,” Yuri said. “Lena is
examining it now.”
Zylon nodded and turned around once more to
face the window. “Get some rest. Tonight is the public announcement of Keimaro.
We need to be prepared for it. Noah’s capture will not delay us, for this is a
very rare opportunity for everyone to be grouped up like this. Make sure you’re
ready.”
“All right,” Yuri said, “but there’s one
more thing. The lab experiment’s eyes. They have the Shokugan. It seems that
she could be from the Hayashi clan.”
Keimaro gulped down a piece of meat as he
walked through one of the public doors with Aladdin. The door beside it had
been completely surrounded with people, assassins lining up simply to access
it. He hadn’t seen why it was so popular, but the door that he and Aladdin had
entered was completely empty. On the other side of the magic door was a dark
corridor with torches lighting the path before him and shadows creeping along
the walls. The door closed behind him, and he could see a light at the end of
the hallway, bright white. His shadow traveled along the dirty stone walls as
he followed Aladdin, his boots crunching on the sandy floors, which seemed to
be made of some type of clay. His heart was pounding at the roaring cheers of
what sounded like thousands of people. “Where are we going?”
“To the arena,” Aladdin answered.
Keimaro blinked and stopped at a door to
the right of the hallway that Aladdin pushed open to reveal a massive array of
weapons similar to the weapons room that Z had kept on the upper floor next to
his office. He shook his head, pushing his cloak to reveal his sheathed sword
at his side. Aladdin nodded in understanding, closed the door to the weapons
room, and continued down the hallway.
“It sounds like there’s so many people,”
Keimaro muttered.
“There’s a lot,” Aladdin said with a
chuckle. “It’s the main entertainment around here. We fight each other to
become stronger, yes? We spar and use our magic to create even more devastating
fights. Watching them is breathtaking and makes us wonder what we can do.
Taking place in them helps you find out how strong you are, and also how weak.
Buu has been challenging and fighting in this arena for a while now, and he has
defeated everyone he’s come across. He’s bloodthirsty for some real
competition. I hope you’re ready to give it your all.”
“How in god’s name can an arena fit inside
of a mansion?” Keimaro wondered aloud. But that wasn’t really what was on his
mind.
Buu is the champion around here? He must’ve gotten a lot stronger from
when we were kids. Does he have magic?
If Buu had obtained the title of
champion amongst a population of magical assassins, he truly must’ve had
something to offer.
“How can you conjure flames from your body?
Why don’t you ask the gods? Magic.” Aladdin guffawed at his comment as they
reached the end of the hallway, where an iron gate stood before them.
Keimaro was blinded for several moments as
an artificial sun seemed to shine down from the sky. The more he wondered about
how they fit this arena in here or how the sky was so blue or how the sun shined
so like to the real one, the more he confused himself. Magic didn’t have to be
explained, he supposed; it was just a wonder. His eyes looked outward in awe
and saw a stretching sandy plain that was scorched with flames. Stands
surrounded the entire battlefield with seats, and people filled every inch of
the area as they cheered, thrusting their hands into the air at the battle
before them. Keimaro scoffed. This wasn’t much of a place to train. This was a
gladiator arena.
Keimaro saw a girl in the arena with long
blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes. She danced through the air, leaping
gracefully with elegant flips that even Keimaro was sure he couldn’t perform.
She landed on her feet, whipping a skinny rapier with fast jabs at the air. As
he watched, the jabs became physical light, transforming into golden energy as
they fired small, needle-like projectiles at her target across the battlefield.
The boy’s eyes scanned the arena and finally locked onto the person he sought:
Buu.
Buu was easily recognizable, not losing a
single bit of his ladies’ charm. His curly brown hair had gotten a bit longer,
and his glowing blue eyes matched Aladdin’s, making him look as if he were of
some noble descent. His lips were thick, and his skin lacked a single scar or
mark upon it, as smooth as a baby’s. He wore no top, exposing his large, toned
muscles in the sun. His skin itself was a crispy tan from clearly spending much
time in the sun—and perhaps too much time fighting in the arena. He smiled with
the thrill of battle, and Keimaro could see the fire in his eyes.
The former bully had leapt through the air
with elegance and flipped, landing on the ground as the daggers of light flew
underneath him, burying themselves into the stone wall behind him. They
flickered for a moment and then died out, shattering into gleaming pieces of
light before disintegrating entirely. It was as if they had never been there.
The former bully’s feet planted heavily into the dirt as he grinned. His entire
body vanished.
Keimaro’s eyes widened, unable to spot
where Buu had gone. Was that his magical ability? Teleportation? As he watched,
Buu appeared behind the girl, driving his fist solidly into the girl’s back. She
gasped and staggered forward, swinging her rapier, but Buu was already gone.
Keimaro stared, incredulous.
This is insane.
Buu teleported all around the girl,
barraging her with unpredictable patterns of rapid punches and kicks, his
knuckles smashing relentlessly into this poor blonde girl as her rapier
continuously met open air, incapable of predicting where he would be next.
Finally, Buu appeared across the arena. He was winding up his fist, spinning
his arm to gain momentum while his opponent was swaying, barely conscious. She
raised her rapier in some attempt at defense, but Buu’s teleportation was too
fast. He had already begun to swing his fist while across the battlefield, but
he teleported with perfect time. He reappeared in front of the blonde girl with
his fist already in motion, cracking across the poor girl’s face and sending her
spinning wildly through the air to land on her back, gasping for air. The crowd
roared with amusement as boys and girls of multiple ages leapt to their feet
and cheered for the champion, clearly thirsty for more bloodshed.
“So?” Aladdin asked. “Are you ready?”
Keimaro didn’t answer the noble as he stomped
forward. His hands touched the metal with such burning heat that the gate
melted, turning into a glowing, red, molten liquid and creating an opening. The
metal glowed like bright lava and receded. He stepped through the opening and
heard the crowd of entertained assassins go silent as he moved forward onto the
sand before anyone was even able to retrieve the girl from the danger zone. The
dirt crunched underneath his feet, sounding loud in the dead silence. He felt
all eyes on him, but he didn’t care. He stopped before Buu, a wind ruffling his
black hair so that it blew past his eyes. He could see the wild grin on the boy’s
face.
“Ah, the gallant Keimaro Hayashi has
blessed up with his presence!” Buu exclaimed, his arms in the air. The crowd
went wild in response, cheering and stomping their feet, rumbling the earth
around them. Buu’s eyes were wide, and he licked his lips. “I don’t know if you
remember me, but I used to beat on your wimpy ass every day since grade school.”
“Yeah,” Keimaro said, unbuttoning his cloak
and brushing back his cape. He took it off as Aladdin sauntered onto the
battleground behind him. He tossed his cloak to the noble, who caught it with a
questionable look, but didn’t complain. Then Keimaro pulled off his shirt to
reveal his body just as Buu had so that they were on even terms. The girls in
the crowd squealed with amusement as he tossed it to Aladdin as well. The noble
rolled his eyes in disgust as he grabbed the unconscious blonde girl and
dragged her away. “No armor, just like you.”
“You’re still picking fights with me, aren’t
you?” Buu scoffed. “I’ve heard a lot about you, you know. Quite famous, you
are. Taking the spotlight with your name, the last of the Hayashi clan. What a
joke. You’re nothing but a bastard, an adopted child with no real parents.
You’re of dirtied blood. You’re a Hayashi, a demon. Nothing but a monster and
an abomination to us all. Why didn’t you just die off in the Bakaara massacre?
I would’ve preferred anyone to survive but you and that blabbering idiot, Yata.
Why did all of my friends and family have to die, but you had to survive? Huh?”
he snarled.
Keimaro’s eyes morphed into a glowing red,
filled with hatred. “I’m growing annoyed with you and your meaningless words. I
came here to humiliate you, not make small talk about the past.”
“About the past?” Buu burst out in
uncontrollable laughter, his head tilted back as he bellowed. “How can I forget
the past? Have you forgotten it? Clearly not, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,
would you? You and I are here for the same reason. We both want Faar to be
destroyed for what they’ve done to our village and our families and friends.
Every single one of my friends was killed! How ironic that you, the demon, survived
along with your only friend! How funny is that? You see, I know why Faar came
on that day. They wanted you, Keimaro. The Hayashi clan massacre, I learned all
about it. You survived, somehow. You survived! And they went to our village to
finish the goddamn job! So, what are you doing here, huh? You should’ve killed
yourself and been done with it already! None of us want you here. All you’ll do
is attract the Faar soldiers to us and get us all killed just like what
happened four years ago.”
Flames sparked around Keimaro and howled,
gathering on his skin, but they didn’t burn him. Instead, they wrapped around
him like tight armor as he felt hatred surge through him. “Rankle me no more
with your pointless prattling. It’s about time that someone quelled your small title
of
champion
. Your words are like pebbles being thrown at a wall,” he
said, slowly unsheathing his sword. The blade scraped against his sheath as it
entered the cool air, brandishing into the glowing sun. He whirled the weapon
and held it out before him.
I’ll destroy him. This is payback.
Buu’s face turned red with frustration, but
he held his tongue. He reached behind him and pulled out two iron gloves that
he slid onto his hands. He clenched the gloves, and the iron seemed to bend
into movement with his hands, crunching as they curled. He slammed fist against
fist, the metal gloves giving off a spark as they collided. “I’ll show you the
difference between us in power. And this is perfect! You won’t have your little
bodyguard, Yata, interfering with your battles any longer. He won’t be here to
protect you this time!” He roared, rushing forward at Keimaro with incredible
speed. His bare feet thumped against the sandy ground as he sprinted, his image
becoming a blur.
Keimaro knew that Buu wouldn’t rush him
directly. He would teleport and come from another direction. But from where,
the sides, or behind? He turned around in a random guess but blinked when he
saw that Buu had actually come from the right with his fist already in motion. Swinging
his fist before the teleportation meant that Keimaro would have less time to
dodge. Keimaro grunted as he swung around, the iron gauntlet missing his face
by only several centimeters. He felt the force of the punch on his skin.
Contact with that iron to the face was a frightening thought. He staggered
away, disengaging from his opponent, his heart beating quickly. There was no
way to actually escape Buu because he could just teleport across the entire
distance in an instant, closing in on him. He had to be on his toes throughout
the fight. There was not going to be a single moment when he would be safe.
Buu’s fists barraged him, each blow coming
from a different direction. There was no particular pattern to his attacks;
Keimaro had made sense of that already. After so many times in the arena, Buu
probably knew that having a pattern was what opponents could use to dodge his
attacks. But without a pattern, it was literally impossible to avoid.
Keimaro grunted, his body furiously being
thrashed about as he tried to maneuver and dodge the attacks in time. Yes, his
Shokugan eyes allowed for him to see the attacks long before they even reached
him, but it was physically strenuous for him to dodge such fast and sudden
attacks. His head tilted to the side as a fist flew past his cheek once more,
but the second blow coming at his stomach was unavoidable. The iron sank into
his abdomen, and he lurched forward, feeling as if all the beer he had just drunk
was going to come up. He spat saliva out onto the ground as his breath was emptied
from his lungs. His hands grasped onto Buu’s forearm and began to release
intense heat onto his flesh, burning into his skin.
Buu yelped in pain and vanished from
Keimaro’s grip before the burn got too serious. He appeared behind Keimaro with
a downward kick that cracked down on Keimaro’s back, forcing the boy onto his
knees. The sly teleporter flipped through the air and gripped both of his
gauntlets, coming down with a crashing blow toward Keimaro’s skull with an evil
grin across his face. His expression changed as a wall of flames expanded
outward from Keimaro’s body. He teleported away as fast as he could, gasping as
he saw the bottoms of his pants singed from the flame. He beat at any small
fires that clung to his clothes and glared at Keimaro. “Hey, you’ve got some
neat tricks. Where’d you get that power, huh? Something that the old man handed
down to you? You were always such a secretive fellow.”
Keimaro grasped his stomach; his diaphragm
felt as if it were pulsing, and his ribs burned with pain. He winced as he
pushed himself onto his feet once more with a shake of his head. He stood tall,
the crowd cheering in response. He cracked his neck a few times.
“I remember vividly now. I saw them kill
your mother,” Buu said with a chuckle. “You know, I just happened to pass by.
They might’ve had some fun with her, too, those soldiers. I don’t know, but I
turned away and kept walking so that I could warn my own family. But that’s
unfortunate for your mother. Why weren’t you there for her, huh, Keimaro?” he called
out, and the crowd fell silent as they waited for Keimaro’s response.
Why
weren’t you there?