Natos lunged with a vicious right hook aimed for Rhett's jaw, but he deftly sidestepped it, just for another hit to come right at his nose from his other fist.
Pain exploded behind his nose as cartilage cracked, vision blurring instantly. Rhett cursed, wiping blood from above his lips. The agony unfocused his eyes, but he had to get back up and face the villain.
He knew he wasn't a good fighter. Ryoji had tried training him multiple times, kept on teaching the basics of boxing in the gym, but Rhett had never been too keen on that kind of stuff. Or more importantly, he was too lazy. Eventually, Ryoji was transferred to another Foster home for teens about to be adults, and he never touched a punching bag again.
The disadvantages of that were beginning to show here. He never even had a chance to rear in for a punch, no less land one, and Natos had already landed a haymaker.
And now, he was standing, chuckling darkly and cracking his knuckles. Rhett stood up straighter and held his arms guarded against his head, the boxing pose Ryo had taught him in what felt like decades ago. He needed to know what this person's quirk was if he wanted to win. In theory, it was impossible for him to be defeated since he couldn't die, but there was no telling if Natos would decide to kidnap him and carry him to the Arena he talked about, or worse, torture him for information he didn't have.
Or for fun.
As the thoughts raced through his head, Natos spoke in a gruff, grating voice. "Wanna know why they call me 'Natos-One Hit Kill'?"
"Huh?" Rhett mumbled, until he realized something was seriously wrong.
He looked down to his body, and saw a bright red circle at the spot between his chest and stomach. His diaphragm.
The circle was about the size of a palm, and mysteriously, it was glowing.
The red glow permeated through his ravaged shirt, and Rhett instinctively gulped. Red never meant anything good.
Before he even had a chance to react, Natos rushed it and punched him dead center on the red spot, knocking the wind out of him.
But that wasn't even the worst of its effects. As the fist connected, he could feel his body failing. He could feel his lungs collapsing, his blood flow seizing, his heart slowing to a halt, and even felt his brain turning off.
His legs couldn't even keep him straight anymore, and in less than a second, he felt himself falling down.
The last thing he registered before he hit the ground was, "That's why."
His vision went black. His heart stopped. His lungs collapsed like punctured balloons. The world faded to nothing.
He died.
As far as deaths went, Rhett felt that this was one of the tamer ones. He barely felt pain, none of the suffering and anguish he had gotten used to.
And that is what made it even more terrifying to him.
But that was not an issue. Soon he found himself regenerating. His lungs reinflated, his heart restarted, and he could form thoughts again.
He was starting to understand the cruelty of Natos' 'One-touch-death' quirk, at least its basic mechanism.
When Natos touched him, by landing the first punch, it must have activated his quirk in his body as the red circle.
When he threw the second punch to the red circle, then the quirk mechanism was finalized, killing him instantly.
Technically, it was a two-touch-kill, since one touch activated the quirk, and the second killed him, but that was just splitting hairs.
His nose, which was on the point of regeneration, was broken again on the floor when he fell down, sending fresh pain throughout his body. He wanted to scream, wanted to writhe in pain and yell at Natos, but he forced himself not to react.
Above him, Natos cracked his knuckles over what he thought was Rhett's dead body and spoke in a bored voice. "What a waste of time. Kid wasn't even worth the trouble."
A small smile crept on Rhett's lips, but he pushed it away and forced himself to stay still.
That was his advantage. Natos thought he was dead.
If he got up and started fighting, Natos might just keep killing him, or resort to restraining him for torture, or take him to the arena.
By playing dead, he could trick Natos into thinking the fight was over, create an opening and catch him by surprise.
If he was fast enough, he could kill him in one move.
Rhett's left side of his face was flat against the cold, damp floor, so he opened his right eye, thinly so they would appear closed if Natos came for further inspection.
The stocky man was already walking out of the tunnel with his hands on his head, no doubt to join Daimon in what was already an overkill battle against Henrik. He was about four feet away from Rhett.
He was not going to get a better opening.
He raised his head and looked around. The closest objects were too far from him, small rocks, exposed rebar, steel pipes. They would make too much noise and require too much time to reach them.
He had to do this raw.
He lifted his body, his bare feet almost slicking against the wet floor, and lunged.
He used all the strength he could muster in his untrained body, and jumped on Natos' torso, bringing him to the ground with a hard crunch.
"The fuck!" Natos yelled, before Rhett brought his head to the ground from behind. He heard the satisfying crack of Natos' nose breaking, momentarily gleeful that he had dealt that damage.
But if he wasn't decisive enough, his position would soon change. Both of them were on the floor now, but Natos was stronger between them, and in seconds he would overpower him and put him in his place.
"Not gonna happen." Rhett growled, to himself and Natos as he brought his legs around Natos' chest in an attempt to pin him down, though it wasn't very successful. The shock factor of the dead body coming back to fight was wearing off rapidly, and Natos was trying to stand up and shake Rhett off.
He remembered what Ryoji had said to him if he ever got himself in a fight.
"Go for the eyes, ears or nose." Ryoji shrugged in his memory. "Not the mouth, since they can just bite you. And if all else fails, go for the balls. Dignity doesn't really mean much at the brink of death."
"Thanks, Ryo." Rhett gritted as he punched Natos' already broken nose, staining his hands with blood, and then he clawed at his eyes, disorienting the man, causing him to fall back down as he grabbed his neck.
He had no weapon except his body, so he had to rely on that. He remembered watching a horror movie on the old TV in one of his foster homes, where the murderer killed his lover by strangling her, holding down her neck until their brain failed due to oxygen deprivation and she collapsed.
There the murderer was stronger than the woman, and he didn't have that advantage. Whatever he wanted to do, he had to do it quickly.
Planting his right foot, he drove his left elbow into the man's collarbone, pinning him down. Before the guy could buck him off, he hooked his right leg over the man's shoulder, locking it like a vise. His knee dug into the side of the neck, trapping the head in place.
Then—his hips twisted. A sharp pop, like a bone snapping under weight. Not loud, but final. The fight drained from Natos' eyes. One second, fury. The next—just glassy quiet. The body beneath him spasmed once, then went completely still. He could see the life leaving the man's eyes, that spark of awareness flickering out like a candle in the wind. The body went limp seconds later, lungs decompressing, muscles relaxing, and the eyes that had been full of life and vigor seconds ago went glossy and empty.
Natos was dead.
Rhett's breath hitched as he pushed Natos away from his body and stood up. The scenario, which had lasted barely a minute, had switched. Natos had been standing over his body, and now he was doing the same.
Only Natos' death was final.
Rhett looked at his hands. They weren't trembling, even though he had killed a man.
It wasn't his first time. He killed the Iron Knight by regenerating inside him, but this kill felt somewhat different. Like the adrenaline had dampened. It wasn't glory. Just death. Quiet. Pointless.
Did Natos ever imagine that today would be his last day on earth?
Rhett shook his head. He shouldn't feel bad. Natos barely felt anything when he killed Rhett mere moments ago. This was just life. This was what Humanity had come to, meaningless deaths as the end arrived.
'Does that make me less human?' Rhett thought as he gathered himself together. 'Death is the end of a human's life. But not mine. Does that mean I'm... inhuman? Not human at all?'
He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He didn't have time to wax philosophical.
Still, he couldn't help but revel in the irony of it all. Natos, who had the power to kill and render all training, armor, and combat ability useless with one touch, had been paired against Rhett, who Death had no meaning to.
He would've even had better luck against Henrik.
'Henrik! I almost forgot!' Rhett said, slapping himself on the forehead. The guy was still fighting for his life against Daimon and the hitdevil. But did he need to save Henrik?
Could he even save Henrik?
Besides, the bastard had tortured him and used him for bait. He was free now, and could go on his own mission to save the people on his list.
But... He had called Henrik 'Comrade' and he had begrudgingly added him to his list.
Besides, he had a couple lives to spare.
"Ugh, fine." Rhett grumbled out loud to himself, as if he hadn't just killed a person. "Don't die yet, bastard. I'm not done saving you."
And then, internally: "I'm going to be your hero."