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CHAPTER FIFTY
Sae's lifeless eyes stared up at him, not with peace, but with something far worse—resentment.
Dried blood traced the paths of tears down her cheeks, each line a record of agony. Her face bore the cruel signature of a slow, deliberate death.
"She was weak. Quite unfortunate," the man said with a heavy sigh, as if lamenting the loss of an old tool. "Put up a decent struggle, I'll give her that."
He took a few slow steps forward, arms folded behind his back, speaking with the smug drawl of someone who had done this before—many times.
"I don't know why she thought threatening me with the researchers' lives would change anything. Tsk. So dramatic, no? A shame she followed through. Replacing them... not so easy."
Then came the smile. Wide. Gleaming.
"She screamed the whole time I worked on her," he whispered, clutching his own hands to his chest in a mock embrace. "Ah... such a beautiful sound. Her neck went kruup—yes, something like that. Very satisfying."
Rio couldn't hear him anymore. All that graced his ears was white noise. A rushing vacuum filled the space between reality and denial.
Wake up.
His mind clawed at the illusion.
Wake up now.
But it was futile.
He dropped to his knees, arms shaking as he cradled her ruined form. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" The words spilled out, cracked and ragged. He bowed his head against her chest, repeating it like a prayer to a god that had never listened.
RAAAUGGH—
Kenji, Kiba, and Daiki charged in together, a flash of grief and rage igniting like a bomb. Sae had been more than a friend to them—she was an older sister. Their compass. Their anchor.
The giant didn't flinch.
Kiba struck first and was batted away like a fly. Kenji followed, snarling—and was driven into a wall with a single crushing blow. Daiki tackled low and caught a brutal punch to the face, knocking him out cold.
The man spat on the floor and stepped over their broken forms.
"Rude little children," he muttered. "Interrupting while the elder is still speaking."
He turned his attention back to Rio. "Where were we… ah, yes. You. You are the one I came for."
He chuckled, running a thick hand down the lapel of his suit. "You were so dashing on the screens, da? Dispatching guards like ants. So efficient."
He tsked softly, wagging a finger. "But you weren't angry enough. Not yet. Now though?" He gestured to Sae's corpse with a flourish. "Now we make proper entertainment."
Rio rose slowly.
His hands loosened around her. Gently, he combed through her hair with trembling fingers, untangling the blood-matted strands. He closed her eyes.
Then he stood.
The pain in his body didn't fade—it simply didn't matter anymore. All that remained was cold, silent rage.
The air warped.
Killing intent poured off him like smoke, suffocating and slow.
The mob boss's grin widened. "Da. That's the look. Now come. Dance with me."
Rio didn't hear him.
He moved.
Kenji, Kiba, and Daiki were already down, and the soldiers instinctively stepped back, clearing the area. The floor between them felt like a stage. A duel of monsters was about to begin.
Rio dashed in—fast. His right hook arced through the air with brutal momentum.
The man barely moved.
He blocked it with a raised foot, casually absorbing the force. "Tsk. Amateur move," he said, disappointed. "Do not telegraph intent. Very sloppy."
Then the slap came.
It was so fast it looked slow—like a normal punch thrown underwater—but Rio's head snapped sideways with a loud crack. He staggered, blood flecking from his mouth.
And the fight had only just begun.
Knowing he couldn't dodge out of the way, Rio placed his hands in front of his face in a guard. The moment it landed, he winced—because the pain was as great as being struck by a truck. Still, in that split second when the attack landed, he jumped backward, the force sending him tumbling.
"Ah. You are still breathing. Smart move… spread the force, da?"
The man's deep voice followed, half-amused. "Very clever, boy. I like that."
Rio tumbled on the floor, rolling like a ragdoll. Before the momentum could be canceled, he placed his hands on the floor… and he pushed against them.
This sent him launching about a meter in the air—and in his hand was a gleaming pistol.
PAK PAK PAK.
Three shots rang out in quick succession. Rio recovered from his impromptu jump and stared wide-eyed at the results.
"Hmmm… that tickles."
The man tore his jacket open, revealing a torso carved from steel-like muscle—zero fat, just layers of hypertrophied power.
"Since master sent me here? Not even one good workout." He began to speak again, his tone smug. "You—"
PAK PAK PAK
The only reply was more bullets as Rio emptied the magazine of the pistol on the man's groin area.
"Oho! You shoot at my balls?" the man laughed in exhilaration. "Ruthless. I respect that. But this body—" he slapped his stomach with pride, "no weak spots left. No soft places. No loopholes."
Rio threw the empty pistol at the man, who slapped it away, still laughing. That laugh was cut short as bullets started impacting his face—one dangerously close to his eye.
Rio had used that short moment when the man's vision was obstructed by his hands and the flying pistol to reach for a machine gun lying nearby.
He fired mercilessly against the man's face—and even for all his pomp, the Fisk look-alike had to use his hands to shield himself.
That moment of vulnerability was exploited immediately by Kiba. He dashed toward the man and punched him square in the chest, following up with a left hook to the chin.
The man staggered slightly and didn't even spit out blood. For all intents and purposes, he may as well have been tickled.
He retaliated with a brutal knee to Kiba's stomach.
The boy blanched, his eyes bulging. That was followed immediately by an overhead, double-handed smash to Kiba's back—his spine denting on impact as he crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
He raised his foot to step on his downed opponent, but a chain wrapped around his leg, trying to pull it away.
"Heugh," the man snorted. He kicked forward and Rio, who was attached to the chain, was yanked forward. His strength may have matched an average adult's, but it was too insignificant in the face of his enemy's superhuman body.
Rio cursed in frustration. He had been thrown around helplessly since the fight started. Bullets bounced off the man's skin, and even blows from someone as strong as Kiba did no damage.
Another kick came toward Rio, and he had to dive out of the way.
"What's the matter, boy?" the man taunted. "You have good reflexes—why not fight ba—ARRRGH!"
A bullet went straight for his eye mid-sentence. The man staggered back, holding his left eye. He growled and removed his hand from his face.
To Rio's utter despair, there was only a thin line of blood trailing down his cheek.
This man had tanked a bullet with his eyelid.
The man laughed in amusement. "I haven't spilled a drop of blood in years!" He wiped off the blood with his thumb, grinning as he made his way back to Kiba, who struggled and failed to get off the floor.
"Your struggle is admirable, wolf boy. But now? Now you sleep."
He stepped hard on Kiba's spine, increasing the pressure as the boy howled in pain.
Rio charged in—his world turning red. He rained a flurry of fists down on the giant's back with all the force he could muster.
The man caught Rio by both wrists mid-strike and brought him up to eye level.
"You think your fists will work... when bullets did nothing?"
The man freed one hand and cocked it back.
Rio struggled urgently—slapping, biting, using his free hand to claw his way out of the grip.
A punch straight to the midsection sent Rio's eyes rolling white.
"You bore me."
Another punch exploded against his stomach, shockwaves blasting behind him.
"Show me something. Surprise me, da? Make it fun."
Another punch landed on the same spot. The pain was overwhelming—so much so that Rio blacked out, his body slipping into a brief state of unconsciousness.
"Or die!"
The final blow came heavier than the rest, and Rio's ribcage collapsed under the force.
The man grunted, watching Rio's limp form still hanging from his grasp. Then, with visible disgust, he tossed the boy aside like a dirty dishrag. His dissatisfaction with the fight was plain.
He scanned the room—the carnage, the dead bodies—all with impassive eyes.
Responsibility for this mess would fall on him.
The master would not care that he had served faithfully for years or that his results had always been excellent. No, the man would use this as an excuse to torture him—to remind him of his place.
He clenched his fists, veins bulging.
The doctor's experiments over the years had made him strong—terrifyingly so.
His skin was tougher than steel. His muscle fibers, denser than metal cords. He had even been granted a second quirk: Power.
If that demon king thought he was just another mindless pawn, he was mistaken.
He had evolved. He had become something greater.
"Kuuugh—"
The sound of vomiting snapped him out of his reverie.
"Agh… I can't seem to stop saying it," The man said in admiration. "Still… I'll say it once more. You're a very impressive child."
Rio lay there trembling, his elbows propping him up as blood mixed with chunks of organs poured from his mouth like a waterfall.
He felt his vision darkening, the man's footsteps echoing closer.
"Ah… seems I'll be dead soon," Rio muttered, barely audible.
His heart was barely pumping, and what little blood it moved was poisoned by the shards embedded in his body.
His lungs burned—every breath a stab of molten glass.
Even keeping his eyes open was a battle. The edges of his vision had darkened, his brain failing to process the images before him.
Still, the footsteps kept coming.
"You're fun. I like you," the man said. "You deserve to know the name of the man who kills you."
He raised a foot, aiming for Rio's skull.
"I am Number Four."
He brought his heel down, aligning it precisely over Rio's head.
CLICK.
The mechanical beep of a lock disengaging echoed in the room. Number Four froze, his eyes widening a second later as realization dawned.
He stomped down harder—urgently.
His foot crashed into the tiles below, smashing the ground into jagged shards.
But there was no skull beneath it.
Just empty space.
"Over here."
A voice from behind. One that filled him with dread.
He turned slowly.
And what he saw made his breath hitch.
Rio stood upright, impossibly. His wounds were closing, his body healing in real time before Number Four's eyes.
"That was your last chance."
It wasn't the words.
It wasn't the voice.
It was the look.
Cold and apathetic.
It wasn't the glare of someone facing their sworn enemy.
It was the disinterest a higher life form held for an insect buzzing in its path.
Author's note: So currently we're in a two year time skip after this current arc.
You can read that as well as the other three chapters ahead on patreon.com/So_indecisive