Pow! Pow! Pow!
Brenda continued to punch Ross's corpse, her anger declining by the second. The weird anger-suspension method was actually working — surprisingly. She had no idea what was about to happen beneath it all.
"You've been punching him for eight minutes. Take a break!" Ronald said calmly, as if he cared about Ross to begin with. Perhaps he had forgotten he was the one who killed him.
Brenda stopped punching and slowly turned her head, glaring at Ronald like she was about to make him the punching bag in Ross's stead.
"Don't look at me like that. I've already told Ziba the job is done. What's left is planning the fake accident that killed him," he advised.
"Let the woman enjoy herself!" Orvoy interrupted, chewing while she talked.
"It's not common to nail a boy of his caliber. The boy's a hottie!" she admired — which wouldn't have been weird if he wasn't dead.
Suddenly,
the ground began to vibrate. A heavy frequency shook the floor like an earthquake. Brenda pulled off her mask, increasing her uptake of air.
Ding!!
The scalpels fell to the ground, shaking off the table from the turbulence.
The trio exchanged looks, eyes widened, alarmed by the change.
"An earthquake?"
"No… something else!" Brenda whipped her head dramatically toward Ross's corpse. The vibrations near him were much stronger than anywhere else in the room.
"Him," she added.
They froze, confused, shocked — no killer ever expects the unexpected to happen to them.
Boom!
A wave of energy burst out from Ross's body in a perfect circular blast, pushing everything aside like it didn't matter.
Boom! Thud!!
Another wave spread, harder, slamming them into the walls of the receptionist area. The fake elderly mercenaries outside were blown into the soil the moment the energy hit them. The force kept pushing, weaker each minute but still violent.
"Shit…"
They muttered as they pushed themselves up, kneeling shakily.
Slowly, they lifted their eyes toward Ross's corpse — like staring at some kind of predator. A motionless predator.
"What did you do to him?"
"Nothing you haven't seen, damn it!"
"Stop quarreling — we need to kill him!"
"How can you kill something that's already dead?!"
"I don't know! Remove its head or something — like in the vampire movies!"
Orvoy glanced back for a second, questioning herself — or giving herself a silent pep talk.
"Shit…"
She leaped forward, attracting their full attention. Her leg movements were like a ninja from the samurai era — deadly, precise. She swung a blade she'd pulled from her back, almost playfully, using it as psychological propulsion.
But the opposing energy kept pushing her away, blasting her hair in every direction. Getting closer to Ross's neck was a struggle — though the grin on her face said she was enjoying every second, while the others stared in awe.
Thud. Thud.
She pushed forward, every step a fight, every inch closer to his neck.
The energy slammed at her like a giant fan aimed directly at her face.
"Just… one… more… step…"
She extended the blade, gripping it tight.
BOOM!
And nature timed it perfectly — another blast came, this one from the skies. A strong line of light descended like an airstrike, swallowing Ross in its domain. Light flashed everywhere. The force hurled Orvoy backward, shattering the arm holding the blade into pieces. It still hung on her shoulder, but barely — blood oozing like a broken faucet, the limb dangling like a seesaw.
"I knew he wasn't normal — no human has skin like that!" Brenda yelled, shielding her eyes.
The others said nothing. They knew Ross had power now — and anger. The perfect recipe for chaos.
Suddenly—
Snap.
His eyes opened within the light's domain, glowing full white — a sign that power had drowned even his soul.
Then
he slowly turned his head toward the three, staring at them for a few seconds.
Recollection, maybe.
Boom!
The light shut off instantly.
Thud.
He dropped to the ground dramatically — one knee down, the other up, a superhero landing pose. But his face… was gone. Only a skull remained.
Then—
the door burst open and ten soldiers rushed in at once like kids in an assembly line. Their face-warping devices were turned off, weapons ready — assault rifles, pistols, anything that could neutralize a threat.
"Look at his face, he's a skeleton!"
"I thought Ronald killed him!"
"How did he come back?!"
"Keep your composure, soldiers!"
They murmured among themselves, eyes fixed on Ross, their voices low enough to hide their fear but loud enough for the trio to hear.
Yet even with his eyes open, Ross wasn't fully awake.
Beep. Beep.
The sound stirred his consciousness. But surprisingly he only saw the consious version of himself.
"Am I back?" he wondered to himself, his vision blurry but recognizing the place. His body was locked in some kind of aura-forming stance he didn't understand. He turned his head left, gasped at the sight of ten soldiers aiming at him, guns ready to fire at the slightest twitch.
He turned right — there they were: the deceivers, and his killer. Standing tall with weapons drawn, looking at him like he was a monster. Fear crept into him — but just as quickly, it faded. For a moment he forgot what Satori told him:
He wouldn't bring you back without giving you something to defend yourself with.
One problem though — Satori forgot to tell him what power he had or how to use it.
He remembered the weird incantations, the talk of different gods… but none of that told him what he could actually do. Still, he couldn't just stand there. He had to act or he'd die again.
His resolve rose:
Fight.
Fighting was the only clear option.
"Time to use my martial skills…"
He readied himself.
"I'll use that table," he muttered, eyeing the table he'd been lying on.
"That receptionist stand will be useful too," referring to the one Orvoy had worked at.
He muttered again, hyping himself up — ready to move.
He lifted his leg—
But nothing happened.
"Wait… my leg feels heavy. What the fuck is happening?" He tried the other leg. Nothing. Neither moved.
"Please… not now…" he pleaded.
He was completely at gunpoint
— and he couldn't move nor did his body show any signs of moving in the first place.
It seemed his fate had been sealed from the very beginning.