"Revenge makes even the smartest people foolish."
Zabi advised the bleeding man as he walked closer, then squatted beside Linward who lay flat on the floor.
The rcenaries that stood outside finally entered the house — all thanks to Zabi who had opened the door for them.
Frozen, they stood there, staring at the two enemies who had just fought unfairly to the end.
"You piece of shit..."
Linward gathered the courage to whisper.
"Language, Linward. You’ve already sinned by cursing. Don’t sour your punishnt with petty words."
He muttered — a killer preaching holiness to the man he had broken. No matter how you looked at it, the concept was disturbing.
Amber’s life started to disappear in Linward’s eyes. His vision blurred, growing darker than before. mories flooded his mind — the mont he was hired to kill Elod Mutt... and the strange retribution he never thought he deserved for the evil he had done before.
"Because of you, Elod... and your family... I’ve lived my life without regrets..."
he thought as his heartbeat slowed, foreshadowing the inescapable fate waiting for him.
"But if there’s sothing I wish I’d done... it’s to protect you more."
Then his heart stopped.
Eyes closed.
Head fell.
All the signs one would ever need to know whether a man was alive... or dead.
"May the gods have rcy on your soul."
Zabi added, his tone somber like a pastor at a funeral.
Instantly, he stood up — gun still in hand.
He turned around, chest tightening, veins contracting. He clearly wanted to give a command.
Suddenly—
Pew!
A red flare shot from the house into the sky.
All eyes turned to it, escorting it as it climbed to its highest glory. Red light washed over the apartnt and its insides — ironic, considering the death rate had already gone too high.
Pwah!
It burst, scattering red fragnts like fireworks.
"It has to be Ross..."
Zabi whispered, a sting of amazent in his voice.
He gestured sharply, commanding half of his group.
"You — kill everyone you find and bring the rest of the Mutts!"
"Yes, sir!"
So of the soldiers leaped off imdiately, rushing to the stairs in the kitchen that led to the second floor. Two minutes ago they had been in a difficult position they had no idea how to handle... but this? Retrieval. It was in their playbook. A perfect chance for retribution.
As the soldiers finally left the sitting room, Zabi turned to the other group.
"You — get Mrs. Mutt."
he muttered.
The soldiers nodded.
Just as they were about to move toward the door that joined her room, a confident female voice stopped them.
"No need, Zabi."
All of them froze.
It was Mrs. Mutt.
With her hands behind her back, she stepped out from behind the door where she had hidden all along — eavesdropping, watching everything that had transpired.
One might have assud she ca to surrender herself.
But her eyes spoke a different story — filled with a strange, unnatural confidence no prey should ever possess.
"Hahah!"
Zabi laughed sharply — not breaking form, but clearly amused.
"You’re a dangerous woman, Gertrude."
he muttered — a complint, not an insult.
Her eyes moved vigilantly — from Linward’s bloody body... to the ard soldiers surrounding her.
Zabi saw it.
The unease in her eyes.
With his right arm, pistol in hand, he gestured for his n to lower their guard.
"Sorry for killing your butler."
"No need. He was already on my list. You actually saved my ti by killing him."
"Haha... that’s what I an when I say you’re a dangerous woman."
Then her tone sharpened.
"What are you doing here? We had a deal, rember?"
"I know. I always honor my deals. It’s just that so unforeseen circumstances arose that forced us to use... force."
"What circumstances? I haven’t done anything."
"It’s not about you."
Zabi added, catching her interest. Her eyes narrowed.
"It’s your son. Ross Mutt."
"What? ...He is just talk and no show. You don’t need to worry about him."
"Hahaha..."
Zabi smirked.
"The sa boy you’re underestimating killed fifteen of my soldiers at once. And I can’t let that slide, can I? It would make look weak. No one wants that."
Mrs. Mutt’s eyes locked with Zabi’s.
The words weren’t loud.
They were calm.
And that was the worst part, it ant he was serious.
.....
GENKI REALM
Ross and the Genki had just started fighting.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Ross’s boots smashed against the ground as he rushed forward — not straight.
Zigzag.
Left.
Right.
Left.
The Genki remained still, feet planted, back straight — a king watching a storm approach. Between his palms, a kinetic bomb twisted and swelled, its surface breathing like a living thing.
With every zigzag step Ross took, the pressure grew heavier. The air bent. The ground trembled.
"Running like that won’t help you,"
the Genki muttered calmly.
"I can see all your movents."
"Good," Ross replied, not slowing.
"I’m not trying to confuse you."
[Oh... I see it now...]
dussa realized.
[He’s stepping more. Zigzagging forces more footfalls than a straight sprint. More steps—more buildup. This might actually work... He’s in control.]
Pew!
Like a star ripped loose, Ross launched forward — arm thrust out, driving the bomb toward Genki’s chest.
[He got him—]
dussa thought.
The distance vanished.
Milliters.
No escape.
Then—
Whoosh!
The Genki slid aside — smooth, inhuman, almost lazy. His body twisted like liquid bone. Ross’s strike tore through empty space, the bomb passing by as harmlessly as passing strangers in a market.
"A readable attack..."
the Genki said under his breath.
"Hmph. Disappointing."
Ross slid past but did not panic.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Their eyes locked.
"Who said I was done?"
Ross said — his voice calm enough to be terrifying.
"...What?"
The Genki’s gaze dropped.
The bomb was still in Ross’s hand.
But it wasn’t normal anymore.
It shimred wrong.
Cracked at the core.
Lines of light breaking through like shattered glass.
"Hmph."
Ross drove his fingers into it.
CRACK.
He crushed it like an egg.
BOOOOOM!!
The blast detonated violently — hurling both of them into the sky, tearing silence straight out of the battlefield.
Midair.
Spinning.
That’s when Ross saw it.
Behind the Genki’s shoulder.
Gothic.
Carved.
A number.
84
[...What is that...?]
Ross thought.
Puzzled, dusaa explained.
[It’s a rank.That number is his position among his kind. Out of billions, he is number eighty four ]
[...You’re fighting royalty, Ross]
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