The room fell silent.
No one moved.
Eyes locked across the space—Yakuza, Amon, Mahone.
The tension thickened until it felt like it had weight.
Fingers hovered over triggers.
Breaths slowed.
Waiting for someone to make the first move.
Kon chuckled.
Kon: "This is pretty intense."
A beat.
"But I hate waiting."
His smile faded.
Something changed.
The air warped.
A pinkish steam began to seep from his body—thin at first, then rising in heavy waves. The floor beneath him trembled.
The Yakuza panicked.
Shots rang out—
Mahone shifted—
An opening.
However.
Before a single bullet could land—
Before a scream could finish—
Something else moved.
Amon.
A silver aura unfolded from him.
Muted.
Metallic.
It spread across the room in an instant—
And everything slowed.
Not time—Perception.
Sound dulled.
Movement dragged.
It felt like the world had been pressed into stillness.
Nothing escaped it.
Except—
A roar.
Kon exploded forward.
His body swelled—muscle stacking over muscle, his frame expanding into something monstrous. Pink steam poured off him violently, his eyes locked in a single color—
Red.
Amon didn't look at him.
Amon: "Go."
"Rage."
Kon vanished—
Then appeared inside the Yakuza line.
Impact.
Walls shattered outward.
Bodies were launched like debris.
The entire structure trembled.
Above ground—
Edmund snapped upright.
Edmund: "What the hell was that?!"
Below—
Chaos.
The underworld erupted.
People screamed, shoving past each other, trampling anything in their way. Drinks shattered. Lights flickered. Music died.
The Yakuza responded instantly.
Reinforcements flooded in—
Guns. Rifles. Katanas. Grenades.
The room became a battlefield.
Chota scrambled, stumbling backward, eyes wide with terror.
Chota: "KILL THEM!!!"
His voice cracked—fear bleeding through rage.
But it didn't matter.
Kon tore through them like a living weapon.
Blades shattered on impact.
Bullets slammed into him—
And only made him angrier.
Stronger.
Faster.
He roared—
Then leapt.
The ground beneath him fractured on takeoff—
CRACK.
The floor split open.
The ceiling above groaned—
Then began to collapse in pieces.
Like a raging bull, Kon rampaged through the room.
He grabbed two soldiers by the skull and slammed them together with brutal force.
A sickening crack echoed as bone shattered instantly.
Before their bodies could even fall, a small unit rushed him from behind, attempting to catch him off guard—but Kon reacted without even looking. A spinning backhand tore through the air, sending them flying across the room and smashing through the wall like broken debris.
Chota scrambled to his feet, panic taking over his entire body.
His eyes darted around wildly until he spotted an exit.
He ran for it—
But suddenly, his body stopped.
He couldn't move.
His breath hitched as he slowly turned his head back.
The world was slowing again.
Everything felt heavy.
Distant.
Muted.
And then—
Steel flashed.
Guards fell before they even understood what was happening.
Amon walked through them.
Calm.
Unhurried.
Twin blades resting naturally in his hands.
He didn't look like he was chasing Chota.
He looked like he was already there to collect him.
A grim reaper closing in.
Chota's chest tightened as Amon stopped a few steps away.
Then—
He vanished.
A sudden dash forward, blades aimed to kill—
But before the strike could land—
A blinding flash of light exploded through the room.
Amon staggered, his movement disrupted for just a second.
Mahone stepped out from the glare.
Mahone: "Sorry."
A brief pause.
"I can't let you kill him."
Another beat.
"At least not just yet."
Chota didn't wait.
The moment the pressure lifted, he turned and ran—bursting through the door and into the corridor beyond.
Mahone moved to follow him—
But a flash of steel cut through the air toward his neck.
He leaned back just in time, the blade missing him by inches.
Amon straightened, his vision already stabilizing.
Amon: "I told you I'd kill you too."
A pause.
"Wait your turn."
He kicked Mahone, sending him through a wall.
And just like that—
He was gone.
Chota sprinted down the corridor, bursting through the exit and into the alley outside.
A vehicle screeched as he jumped inside, engine roaring to life before it sped off into the street.
Amon followed immediately.
He sprinted after the vehicle, moving faster than any human should. His figure cut through the streets like a silent gale, swift, relentless, and impossible to escape.
His feet struck the ground with controlled force, his speed pushing past traffic, reaching near a hundred-five miles per hour as he chased the vehicle down the street.
Still—
It wasn't enough.
The car turned sharply, swerving into a construction site.
Amon followed without hesitation.
Inside, the environment shifted—steel beams, unfinished structures, dust hanging in the air.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then—
The sound of tires.
The vehicle came straight at him at full speed.
Amon activated his stillness.
The world slowed.
The car's movement dragged through his perception—
But suddenly—
Another flash.
Blinding light shattered his focus.
Amon moved instinctively, barely shifting out of the way as the vehicle tore past him.
He lifted his head.
And saw him.
Mahone.
Standing at a distance.
Calm.
Watching.
Amon: "You again…"
They held each other's gaze for a brief moment.
Then Amon moved.
He dashed forward, twin blades dancing through the air with precise, lethal intent. Each strike was clean, controlled—meant to end the fight instantly.
Mahone didn't panic.
He moved.
Not fast—
Efficient.
Every step calculated.
Every movement minimal.
Amon's blades carved through the air, striking concrete, steel, and empty space as sparks burst from each missed attack.
Inside his mind—
Amon adjusted.
"He's reading me…"
Two diagonal slashes came down—
Mahone ducked under them smoothly.
A downward strike followed immediately—
He sidestepped it without hesitation.
Nothing connected.
Amon pivoted, driving a powerful kick forward.
Mahone raised his arms to block—
The impact sent him flying backward across the floor, sliding through dust and debris.
Amon stepped forward.
Amon: "Stop playing defense."
He surged in again, closing the distance instantly and driving a blade straight toward Mahone's chest.
But Mahone had already seen it.
His hand flicked.
A small knife shot forward, slicing through a rope above them.
A split second later—
A cluster of heavy metal rods dropped down between them with a thunderous crash.
Steel slammed into the ground, forming a barrier that forced Amon to halt.
Dust rose into the air.
Mahone narrowed his eyes.
Mahone (thinking): " Damn…"
A brief pause.
"He's tough."
"If I'm not careful… he'll take my head off."
Amon's gaze remained fixed on him.
Amon: "Why do you keep getting in my way if all you do is run?"
A beat.
"Are you some kind of bodyguard?"
Another pause.
"Or just a pest I need to get rid of?"
Mahone didn't answer immediately.
He pulled out a cigarette and lit it calmly, as if the fight had slowed to match his rhythm.
Mahone: "I don't know."
A beat.
"You tell me."
Amon's eyes sharpened slightly.
Amon (thinking): " He's keeping his distance."
A pause.
"Has he figured it out?"
Without warning, Amon leapt forward and hurled one of his blades.
Mahone dodged.
Barely.
Before he could fully recover, the second blade followed immediately.
He twisted his body just in time—the edge grazed his cheek, slicing the skin open as it passed.
A thin line of blood trailed down his face.
Mahone stepped back—
Too late.
Amon was already there.
Right in front of him.
Blade raised.
Ready to end it.
Amon: "Stillness."
The world slowed.
Sound dulled.
Movement dragged.
The blade hovered at Mahone's neck—
Seconds from cutting through.
But—
Mahone (thinking): "Not fast enough."
A flash erupted from the side.
Blinding.
Violent.
Amon staggered back, his perception disrupted as the light tore through his vision.
Amon: "What the—"
He steadied himself, eyes narrowing at Mahone.
"You…"
A beat.
"You set that up."
Another beat.
"You weren't just dodging."
A pause.
"You were leading me."
Mahone exhaled smoke slowly.
Mahone: "Yeah."
A beat.
"It didn't take long to figure out your ability… Stillness."
He stepped forward slightly, eyes locked in.
"I don't know its full extent yet."
"But your patterns didn't change."
"From the hideout… to here."
A pause.
"It slows everything within a limited radius—about four meters."
"Outside of that… things still move normally."
He tapped the side of his head lightly.
"My flash bombs? They don't care about your range."
"They hit you the moment you look."
A beat.
" There's also a cooldown...."
"About four minutes."
Mahone dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his foot.
His gaze hardened.
Cold.
Focused.
Mahone: "Now…"
A beat.
"I play offense."
He moved.
A powerful right kick tore through the air.
Amon blocked—
But the force launched him backward, his feet scraping across the floor.
Mahone closed the distance instantly.
An upward kick followed—
Then two sharp jabs—
A left hook—
A right uppercut—
Each strike landed with precision and weight.
Amon was driven upward—
Crashing through the ceiling.
Amon (thinking): " He's fast…"
"Strong…"
Mahone followed him up without hesitation, his movements sharp and controlled.
Each strike came like a calculated sequence.
No wasted motion.
No hesitation.
Amon barely kept up, blocking, dodging, adjusting—
But always a step behind.
Amon (thinking): " It's not just speed…"
"He's reading me."
"Predicting everything."
"He figured out my ability…"
A pause.
"He's been controlling this fight from the start…"
Amon's eyes narrowed.
"He's one of them."
Amon struck back, blade flashing forward—
Mahone caught his wrist.
Twisted.
Trying to break it.
But Amon shifted mid-air, rotating his body and countering with a slash that cut across Mahone's chest.
Mahone stepped back slightly.
Amon followed immediately with a sweeping kick—
Dropping Mahone to the ground.
No hesitation.
Amon raised his blade and drove it down with full force.
Mahone rolled away—
The blade struck the ground—
THUMP.
The impact cracked the floor open.
The force traveled downward, tearing through multiple levels beneath them.
They separated, putting distance between them—both catching their breath as the fight reset.
Amon stood, still recovering from the flashes.
Amon: "You…"
A beat.
"You're one of the chosen ones."
His gaze sharpened.
"You have it too."
A pause.
"Chō chokkan."
Silence settled between them.
Wind passed through the broken structure as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Night crept in.
Amon: "You're dangerous."
Sirens echoed in the distance.
Below—
Authorities arrived.
Officers and two Guardians.
Mahone didn't look away.
But suddenly—
Amon vanished.
Gone.
Mahone did too afterwards.
By the time the Fighters reached the floor—
The two of them had vanished with the wind.
Back at the hotel
Edmund stepped outside, scanning the scene as security and authorities swarmed the building.
Edmund: "Goddammit…"
A beat.
"Why does it always end up like this?"
He looked around, frustrated.
"Mahone… where are you?"
His phone rang.
He answered immediately.
Edmund:"Hey, man—where—"
Mahone (over phone): "I got him."
A pause.
"I'll send you the location."
The line cut.
Luxury Penthouse
Dim orange lights filled the room.
Calm.
Quiet.
Controlled.
Five bodies lay scattered across the floor—men in suits, tattoos visible, all unconscious.
Chota sat on a luxurious sofa.
Breathing heavy.
Frustrated.
Terrified.
A gun pointed directly at him.
Mahone stood in front of him.
Still.
Unshaken.
Mahone: "Well…"
"Let's get started."
Chota swallowed.
Trapped.
Nowhere to run.
The night had just begun—
But for him—
It was already over.
Because now—
He was in the hands of the Calculated Technician.
And this time—
There was no escape.