John loves Gambling. 'Calculated Risks' rather.
He sat at the edge of the worktable, elbows on his knees, staring at the two objects laid out before him. The entire room was silent except for the hum of the dying desk-lamp light.
On the left; The Ring. It's smooth, golden and flawless design, with faint engravings of 'ROBOTS©' on it. It's no trash this time.. Pocket dimension, with volume capacity of an entire warehouse. Real magic technology right there. It's the real deal
On the right; His Eyeball. It's opened with its tiny gears and cogs exposed, most circuits burnt and worn out, the hair like wires spalling out and the main coil missing.
Shame. For such an obvious choice, he gets to reflect for hours.
Sigh,
He tapped the seam with a chisel. A crack appeared. He pried it open. Inside, tiny gears, micro-coils, and folded conduits waited. Tweezers in hand, he extracted each piece carefully. In minutes, the ring was gone.
He extracted out all the fragments, soldering each other together in the coil-like pattern he had sketched out.
A small pause, adjusts his micro-lens. Then he began to assemble the new coil into the mini-compartment, soldering each micro wire to the coil's stem, He tested the neural filament's connection at intervals.
Each adjustment was precise; too much force or a misaligned component and the eye would be useless. Sweat ran down his temple, but he didn't rush. Step by step, he coaxed the machine back into functionality.
He lifted the repaired eye. A sleek work actually. He began inspecting it once more for alignment and loose wires. Carefully, he positioned it against his eye socket, making sure the neural filaments matched. One by one, he reconnected the tiny cords back. The main lens slid into place smoothly. Boom….The eye hummed faintly.
[System Initializing]
John exhaled.
[System online]
He could see with his left eye again. He blinked slowly. Shapes sharpened. Colors returned. The eye worked.
"Iris! " John spoke to the air. "Are you there?"
A slight glitch then came; the optic-assist A.I, flowing through his vision like a pulse. Blue focus frame lines focusing on any and all objects, motion trackers, distance identification and information readouts on anything he sets his eyes on.
"Ahh Yesss" he released. Iris had, in fact become faster.
The AI hummed in his eye, subtle but alive. Tiny data streams ran along his vision; distances, heat, focus points. It wasn't just a tool; it was a second pair of senses, always watching, always calculating. John trusted it more than anyone else. His greatest creation 'T16-Iris'
He proceeds to move his eyes around the room. Testing his focus, identifying anything in his way.
It locked his vision to something. Sitting on his bed, an unusual object.
[???] Iris pops up
"Yeah. I nearly forgot about this"
John picks up the box, opening it, unveiling three glass vials of a clear yellow liquid solution. Compound X is illegal in all forty six states. Possession, Production, Sale or Distribution - kill on first sight.
It's a really intense law, but what's worse is the atrocity this substance had originated from. It's necessary to fear it. We can still remember it. It's been over 12 years but we still remember.
The 202 Disaster! The monstrous wail of the Dexxosapian Giganticus — The Dragon Bat.
The first appearance of an S-Rank Demon.
At first, the readings were going crazy. It was measuring demonic energy concentration far beyond normal calibration. While experts warned of the necessary precautions, the government sought reassurance politics and other information management propagandas to maintain order. Order Broke that day.
At the first sighting of the colossal giant, almost the size of a six-storey building, its wings stretched tearing down towers around it. Its claws shredded cars and buildings like paper, its dreadful eyes hunted down every fleeing soul. Streets burned, screams echoed, and in seconds, the city of Wuhan was no more. The Devil himself had been released, and nothing could stop it.
No one talks about the Wuhan Disaster anymore. We all chose to forget. The calamity, the terror, but never the numbers. We could never forget the numbers. 202 'Two O Two' . Two hundred and two thousand deaths. Wuhan is now a ghost town.
John digs through his pile of clothes. None washed. Looking for something to wear.
"Something casual" he murmured "too off… too short…. too bad….. too," staring at a plain black shirt.
"Perfect" he smiled
All his shirts were black. Different types but all black.
He dressed up, placed the drug in his pockets, then proceeded to leave the room. His eyes focused on a carton of scraps labelled 'weapons'.
"Nah.. it's just a Delivery… in and out"
He slams the door on his way out.
The club hit him all at once.
The Bass slamming into his chest. Lights strobed like broken lightning. Bodies packed tight—too tight. Too many people, too much heat. John slipped in like a ghost, shoulders low. He wasn't a club rat, he's a dumpster one.
Awakeners were everywhere.
One guy laughed, and flames emitted from his mouth. A woman danced upside-down on the ceiling. Drinks floated around. A naked lady dancing in a glass cube box. She had no face. People transfer tons of thousands of XPs to an account, screaming their requests, while she transforms into their dirty fantasies. Men, most of them.
John kept moving.
Music roared. Sweat, smoke, energy. His robot eye flickered, the focus frame lines snapping on and off as it tracked movement, threats, exits. Too much noise. Too many variables.
Then, Top level. A balcony above the entire chaos.
His eye locked on a single figure leaning on the rail. Still. Watching. He looked jacked. Not the kind that needs a doping.
[???] Iris cautioned
John exhaled once and headed for the stairs.
"You're late," he said, voice calm, almost like he was bored.
John stopped two steps away. "I didn't know there was a time."
A pause. Then a quiet chuckle.
"Fair."
John's robot eye traced him, focus frame lines locking in. No visible weapon. Power signature muted. That was actually worse.
"Delivery?" the man asked.
John reached into his jacket, slow, careful. The small black box occupying his entire fist. John placed it on the railing between them.
The man finally looked at it. He didn't touch it.
"Ever seen what this does to people?" he asked casually.
John shrugged. "I don't ask questions. I carry boxes."
Another pause. Longer this time.
The man smiled at some point, but the new arrivals into the club took it away. "You should go…fast"
He tapped the box once. It vanished. His storage ring was black.
John's eye flickered.
"Don't look back," the man whispered, already turning away.
John turned too.
Halfway down the stairs, Iris flashed a warning.
[Threat Probability: rising] it's focus running up and down as John stares at everyone around him.
A Man bumps through him, heading up. Followed by two other face covered men on hoods.
He wasn't supposed to look back.
But there was a tattoo on the man's wrist.
John turned.
John felt it before he saw it....
The music stuttered. The lights flickered; once, twice, then blew out in a ripple across the club. People screamed.
The balcony behind him exploded.
John spun as the railing folded inward, concrete shredding like paper. The three figures dropped through the smoke, landing without a sound.
A hand blurred, the air around it compressed, blades formed from energy. Blue-white. Silent. One attacker moved backward, smashing through glass, vanishing into the crowd below.
The other two moved together.
They jumped on him.
The buyer stood his ground as the three men closed in. Blades slammed into his body, sparks burst. Steel skin. Solid. Unyielding.
It suddenly occurred to John. THAT IS DULCAN STEEL— Top C- class ranker.
Every punch cracked walls, every kick caved floors. Tables shattered. Pillars snapped. People didn't get out fast enough.
Screams…Blood everywhere.
He began to fight them head-on. His metal fist crushed one attacker into the bar. The second swept his blade across Dulcan's chest; metal screeched, dents forming, sparks around every strike. The third came from nowhere, driving him through the upper floor down to the ground floor slab. Concrete Ground. The entire podium collapsed.
The club was coming apart. But then, they looked at themselves in some sort of sign language, and they adapted.
Attacks synced perfectly now. Impacts stacked. Dulcan staggered. Steel dented deeper. Cracks spread across his metal skin like fractures in armor.
He was losing!
John was too close. A wall collapsed beside him. The shock threw him across the floor. His eye screamed warnings.
[THREAT RADIUS: CRITICAL]..... [THREAT RADIUS: CRITICAL]
He grabbed on to a broken railing, for support. He could feel a back injury.
Dulcan coughed. Blood hit the floor.
"Shit" He reached into his pocket dimension.
Black box. A bit of hesitation. He opened, seeing 3 bottles. He crushed the tip of one. "Gulpp"
Boom!!!! The explosion didn't burn—it swept.
A shockwave tore through the building. Windows vaporized. Bodies flew. John was slammed hard, bones screaming as he bounced across concrete. His bad arms made it worse, something snapped. His vision flooded red. Iris overloading with error messages.
[SYSTEM SURGE]!!!! [SYSTEM SURGE]!!!!!! CAUTION!!! CAUTION!!!
Iris supposedly can't see other people's stats.
But Dulcan's Stats weren't displayed on his window. It was his entire body.
Stats maxed out to numbers past regular limits. Power flooded his body, raw and violent. A former C-Ranker now gives off aura of an A-Rank.
Dulcan stood. No, He towered!
Steel warped outward, veins glowing red like lava. His eyes were wrong. Too bright. Too wild.
He moved! John felt it! The floors felt it! We felt it!
The remaining attackers didn't stand a chance.
One was erased in a single hit to the chest. Not defeated. Gone.
The second tried to flee.
Dulcan caught him mid-step and slammed his head through the entire ground floor. The building was at stake here!!
The drug was eating at him. His head was trembling.
He laughed, He roared. He screamed. Then struck anything that moved—walls, pillars, shadows. The club was no longer a club. It was a ruin.
John crawled.
Debris rained down. A stray blow caught him—critical hit. Iris didn't need to react. John had already drained his vocal cords in Screams.
"My Arm!!!! My Arm!!!!" John exclaimed to the top of his lungs. It took him a while to realise, He No Longer had an arm.
Left arm….puff…. Just like that
Dulcan turned.
For a moment, just a moment, his eyes locked onto John.
John froze.
Dulcan's eyes fixed at John. The veins expanded into his eyes. His head kept twitching, then glitching. But his eyes, dangerously fixed at john.
He began to vibrate. He was…. It glitched again
He raises head down, he lifts it up. The veins had entered his eyes. He Roared.
He locks eyes with John again.
John's soul had reached heaven already.
Then He….
Then the ceiling collapsed between them.
Darkness.
Silence.