Chapter 240: [THE DEVIL] vs. The Living Weapon
CLACK!
The man disguised as a tall woman flicked his wrist with practiced ease,
retracting the blood-stained blade back into his elbow.
His name: Doyle!
One of the five escaped death row convicts, a fugitive from Carios Prison in the
UK. To ensure victory, he had undergone extensive surgical body modification,
burying a lethal arsenal within his own flesh—high-tension springs, surgical
blades, and even a micro-explosive embedded in his chest.
With his curly red hair, standing over 190cm with a lean, handsome face and
sharp, narrow eyes, he was the picture of a cold-blooded killer. Currently, he
was still wearing high heels and a women's skirt, clutching a discarded wig—a
testament to his deceptive nature.
"——"
Doyle stood his ground, looking serenely at Raian Kure. The Kure "Devil" had a
fresh gash across his cheek, blood trickling down his jaw.
"I was hoping for the 'Unchained,' but playing with a Kure isn't a bad
consolation prize."
"I recognize those eyes, Mr. Kure."
Doyle offered a thin smile. "I, Hector Doyle, am currently standing in this
'Steel Jungle.' Does that make me a survivor of the battlefield? Or are the Kure
nothing more than a glorified mercenary group that's lost its edge?"
Doyle's smile turned sinister. "You aren't the only ones who know how to thrive
in a warzone."
"——"
Raian studied Doyle, licking the blood from the corner of his mouth. He ignored
the stinging wound on his cheek, his grin widening into a mask of pure malice.
The air around him began to warp and vibrate with the intensity of his aura.
In Ren's ear, the radio crackled with Fusui's voice.
"Hector Doyle. Former operative for British Intelligence. All past records are
classified. He's been active in the global underworld for years. The records say
he's incredibly difficult to pin down—a true ghost."
"After escaping Carios, he arrived in Tokyo with the help of the US Air Force.
He ambushed Ren-chin and Rob Robinson recently, but was wounded and forced to
retreat after Dorian interfered. His whereabouts were unknown until now."
"——"
Raian picked at his ear, his black-and-white eyes becoming bloodshot.
"Martial artists, assassins, mercenaries, soldiers... and now a 'Spook'? What is
this, a damn modern warfare convention?!"
He squinted, a line of blood tracing down his neck and chest. He looked like a
demon emerging from a slaughterhouse.
"Hey, Ren!"
Raian turned his head, pointing to the wound on his face. He snarled with
homicidal intensity, "Back off. If you get in my way, I'll butcher you too!"
Ren Shiroki nodded, stepping back to give Raian his space. "Fair enough. You got
the first tag."
Unlike Sikorsky, who was a shared target, Doyle had specifically challenged the
Kure pride. In the underworld, there was an unwritten law: when two apex
predators clash, you don't interfere. Besides, Raian had already spilled blood;
it was his fight now.
"Heh—"
Raian let out a low, guttural laugh, his eyes locked onto Doyle. "Thanks for
making me bleed, you piece of trash. Now I don't have to worry about anyone else
interrupting. This is going to be fun!"
"How should I repay you, Doyle-chan?"
Raian dropped into a slight crouch, the corners of his mouth pulled back to
reveal his teeth. Steam seemed to rise from his skin.
"You say you can 'Survive' a warzone? Then let's strip away the fancy titles.
Forget the jungle. Let's go back to something more primitive!"
"No more tactics. Just raw, unadulterated slaughter. I'm going to trample you
until you're nothing but a red smear on the carpet!"
Raian ground his teeth, his adrenaline surging to stem the bleeding on his
cheek. Veins bulged across his limbs as a distorted, inhuman killing intent
filled the corridor like a rising tide of fire.
"BEGIN!"
Raian roared.
Suddenly—the world tilted. In Raian's vision, the walls shifted violently, and
the ceiling seemed to flip downward. He realized instantly: the world wasn't
spinning. His body was losing its equilibrium.
"?"
Raian gritted his teeth, trying to anchor himself. A heavy sense of vertigo
hammered at his brain.
This feeling—am I drugged?
His eyes shifted to Doyle's elbow, remembering the blade that had sliced him
moments ago.
"Is it because of the Kure biology?" Doyle mused, holding up his elbow. "The
dose usually works instantly. On you, it took several times longer just to make
you wobble."
"I coated the tip of my blade with a powerful hallucinogen—a muscle relaxant mix
originally intended for the 'Unchained'."
"Prisoners on death row use this stuff to dull the fear of the chair. I managed
to secure a clinical supply. The Kure clearly have a high resistance to
toxins... impressive."
Doyle watched Raian's swaying form and smirked. "But it still works."
Zip!
Doyle lunged. Capitalizing on Raian's imbalance, he aimed for the fresh wound on
Raian's cheek. Using his high heels as a weapon, he launched a diagonal rising
kick.
THWACK!
The sharp heel slammed into Raian's face, tearing the existing wound further.
Blood sprayed across the hallway.
Tap! Tap! Tap—
Raian retreated several steps, his body lurching backward, but he didn't fall.
Instead, he burst into a manic, terrifying laugh.
"What a load of bullshit! Hallucinogens? A little pain is all I need to clear my
head!"
He snapped his body forward, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "These tricks
are—"
Before he could finish, Doyle kicked off his own shoes mid-stride, launching
both high heels like projectiles at Raian's face.
"—?!"
Raian caught the shoes with his forearms, his vision momentarily obscured.
Doyle seized the opening. He stepped in, his right fist aimed at Raian's face.
He curled his fingers, triggering a mechanical release in his forearm.
CRUNCH!
A heavy industrial spring inside Doyle's arm fired, propelling his fist forward
with the force of a pneumatic piston. It slammed directly into the bridge of
Raian's nose.
BANG!
The impact, amplified by the mechanical body modification, was enough to shatter
a human skull. Even a high-level fighter shouldn't have been able to tank it.
But to Doyle's horror, Raian didn't move. He stood rooted to the spot, his neck
muscles tensing like cables of braided steel to absorb the shock.
"Heh... that punch had some kick to it!"
Raian's grin widened. His neck muscles surged, actually forcing Doyle's
"Spring-Fist" backward. A raspy, predatory growl vibrated in Doyle's ears.
"You must have spent a fortune in time and money to modify that body, huh?"
"Five years? Ten? Definitely not more than fifty. You can't modify yourself in
the womb, after all—"
Raian's veins were now pulsating visibly beneath his skin. His complexion
shifted, turning a deep, sickly shade of purple-red. He pressed his face against
Doyle's fist, his black-and-white eyes wide and crazed.
"But the Kure? We've been modifying our bodies for over a thousand years...!!"
"Don't you dare get cocky with me, you second-rate cyborg!"
Kure Secret Art: [REMOVAL]! 100%!!
In that heartbeat, the mental limiters protecting his body were discarded. An
unthinkable amount of raw power flooded his system, pushing Raian's physical
output to its absolute ceiling.
WHOOSH!
Raian delivered a massive headbutt, knocking the "Spring-Fist" aside. Doyle
froze, and before he could process the shift in momentum, Raian's hand clamped
around his ankle like an iron shackle. He hoisted the 80kg convict into the air.
"—?!"
Doyle felt weightless, his eyes bulging in shock. He had fought Kure members
during his time in intelligence, but this "Devil" was a different species
entirely!
Physical mass meant nothing to Raian now. Even with a muscle relaxant in his
system, he swung Doyle's entire body with a single hand as if the convict were
made of straw.
"GYA-HA!"
Raian laughed like a madman, swinging Doyle in a wide arc and slamming him into
the corridor wall.
BOOM!!!
The impact shook the floor like an earthquake. Doyle was plastered against the
masonry, the wall behind him shattering into a spiderweb of deep cracks.
"Gah—hk!"
Doyle coughed up a spray of blood. He felt his modified joints groaning under
the stress, his lungs collapsing from the shockwave.
What truly terrified him was that Raian didn't stop. He tightened his grip on
Doyle's ankle and prepared to swing him again, aiming to pulverize him against
the floor.
Doyle reacted out of pure survival instinct. A blade snapped out from the inside
of his left wrist. He leaned in, trying to slice Raian's arm to force a release.
Raian didn't even flinch. His dark-red eyes shifted as his other hand shot out,
reaching for Doyle's forearm. If Raian got both hands on him, Doyle knew his
bones would be snapped like dry twigs.
Zip!
Doyle twisted mid-air, positioning his head and collar toward Raian as he shook
his body violently.
SHINK-SHINK-SHINK—!
Dozens of razor-sharp blades detached from the lining of Doyle's collar, raining
down on Raian like lethal hail. It was a trick from his operative days—a final
"Hail Mary" for survival.
The blades targeted Raian's eyes, forcing the Devil to blink and turn his head
to avoid being blinded.
Seizing the micro-second of hesitation—"HA!"
Doyle wrenched his ankle free. While still suspended in the air, he coiled his
body and unleashed a rapid-fire barrage of kicks into Raian's chest.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The impact forced Raian backward. He slammed into the floor-to-ceiling window,
the reinforced glass spiderwebbing under the pressure.
Doyle panted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "What a monster... 'Head is
clear' my ass. Thank god the drug is still—"
He didn't get to finish.
Tap!
Doyle touched down and immediately leaped forward, driving both feet into
Raian's chest in a desperate double-stomp.
CRACK!
The 8th-floor window shattered completely. Raian was launched out into the
night, falling toward the street below.
But in that final millisecond, Raian's hand shot out. He seized Doyle's ankle
with a vice-like grip, his grin never wavering as he yanked the convict out with
him.
"Trash! Don't even think about running! You're coming with me!!"
Zip!
Doyle lost his footing, dragged out into the void alongside Raian. The two
disappeared into the darkness of the Ginza night.
Fwoosh—
"—!?"
Ren Shiroki sprinted to the jagged opening. He looked down to see Raian using
the momentum of the fall to swing himself back toward the building. The Kure
monster caught an exterior railing on the 7th floor and stabilized himself with
freakish agility.
Doyle had fallen further, but his modified grip allowed him to snatch a railing
on the 6th floor.
He spared a single upward glance at Raian before releasing his grip and falling
again. He landed on an air-conditioning unit on the 5th floor and began a
frantic, hopping descent down the exterior of the building, desperate to escape.
"Get back here, you coward!"
The wound on Raian's cheek was throbbing with a fresh surge of rage. He leaped
from his ledge, pursuing Doyle down the side of the skyscraper.
Thud! Tap! Thud!
In seconds, both men hit the ground and bolted around the corner of the hotel,
vanishing from Ren's sight. A heartbeat later, a dense cloud of white smoke
erupted from the alley.
Pshhhh—!
When the perimeter police units rushed in to investigate, they found only a
swirling fog. The two predators were gone.
"..."
Ren leaned out the window, but the visibility was zero.
Suddenly, his radio chirped. Fusui's voice came through, calm and tactical.
"Doyle deployed a high-density smoke bomb. He used the cover to neutralize the
officers guarding the maintenance entrance and vanished into the sewers. He's
running."
"My brother looks... let's call it 'extremely motivated.' He dived into the
manhole right after him. Don't worry about Raian. He's in his element."
Ren acknowledged the update. He had no reason to doubt Raian's ability to handle
a sewer-brawl. He turned back to the interior and headed upward.
9th Floor.
Ren walked through the quiet guest corridor. He stopped by a window, looking out
at the city lights and letting out a long, satisfied exhale.
"I'm all alone," Ren said suddenly, his voice echoing in the hall. "Man... it's
so quiet. I'm completely vulnerable."
He paused, a playful glint in his eye. "I'm all by myself. It's so scary! I hope
no one ambushes me while my guard is down~!"
Ren's consciousness went into a state of extreme, silent acceleration. 36
trillion cells began to hum in a synchronized vibration.
[STRIKE AT THE APEX]—PRIMED!
BOOM!!!
Ren's fist didn't hit a person. It hit the drywall right beside the window.
The reinforced wall was punched through like wet cardboard. A massive hole
erupted in the masonry, bricks and dust spraying outward—and within that cloud
of debris, a human figure was caught in the impact.
Sikorsky!
He had been clinging to the exterior wall of the 9th floor, waiting for the
perfect micro-second to launch a silent ambush through the window. He hadn't
expected Ren to sense him through a solid wall, let alone punch through it to
find him.
"Aha!"
Ren bared his teeth, his eyes glowing with predatory joy as he stared at the
stunned Russian through the hole.
"FOUND YOU~!"
(End of Chapter)
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