Training for Hunt
The sound of the plane engines hummed in Rael's ears as he sat quietly, his red eyes staring out of the small window. The world below looked so far away, like another life he had left behind. The Rael who once lived in a middle class family, who lost his parents from corruption and illness, who died in the streets with nothing to his name that Rael was gone. The boy who sat here now had a new chance, a new body, and a burning purpose.
Nova had sent him away from the noise of the city to a place where he could be shaped into something sharper, something that could cut through the shadows of injustice. The name of the man he was supposed to meet rang in his mind again and again Master Ryn.
The flight was long, but Rael hardly noticed. His thoughts were consumed by memories of his parents and the pain of their downfall. His father, once a simple office employee, had been dragged into a nightmare where he was framed with drugs by the mafia. He remembered his father's hollow eyes when the judge, paid off by the criminals, announced the guilty verdict. He remembered how his mother fell ill soon after, the stress eating away at her until her body could no longer fight. Both of them had withered away, leaving him alone in a world that mocked justice.
He clenched his fists against his knees. This wasn't just about revenge. It was about making sure no one else had to live that same pain.
When the plane finally landed, Rael stepped out into the fresh air of a quiet countryside. The city was far behind him now. Nova had told him he would find Master Ryn in a house built from wood, nothing grand or modern just a simple place where he can train peacefully.
Rael walked for some time before he reached it. The house stood quietly at the edge of a forest, its wooden walls polished and strong, its design simple but warm. Smoke rose faintly from the chimney, and the scent of burning wood mixed with the cool air of the mountains. It looked ordinary, almost too ordinary, but something about it felt grounded, like the earth itself was protecting this place.
On the porch sat an old man, his eyes sharp despite his age. His hair was white, and his frame, though thin, carried the aura of someone who had lived a lifetime in battle. He looked at Rael with calmness, as though he had been expecting him all along.
"Oh," the old man said, his voice deep and steady, "are you Rael? Nova told me about you."
Rael nodded and stepped closer. "Hey… are you Master Ryn?"
The old man chuckled lightly. "Yes, I am. And you must be Rael." His eyes narrowed slightly, studying the boy in front of him. "You're thinner than I imagined. Too skinny for what lies ahead."
Rael bowed slightly, awkward but respectful. "I'm here to learn. I want to learn how to fight."
Ryn leaned back in his chair, resting his hand on the cane beside him. "Tell me something first. Why do you want to learn to fight?"
Rael took a deep breath. The words came from his chest, heavy but honest. "Because of what I suffered. Because of what my family suffered. I don't want anyone else to go through the same. I want to fight for justice. I don't care how much time it takes I'll do whatever I need to."
The old man's eyes softened, though only slightly. He had heard many reasons in his life
ambition, greed, revenge but there was something different in this boy's tone. Something raw, unshaped.
"Whatever it takes,?" Master Ryn muttered, tapping his cane against the ground. "Fine. I'll train you. But first, eat something. Your bones are crying louder than your words."
For the first time in days, Rael smiled faintly.
The days that followed were unlike anything Rael had ever known. Training under Master Ryn was not just about fists and kicks; it was about breaking the body and rebuilding it stronger each time.
Every morning, Rael woke before the sun and ran up the mountain path two times a day, no excuses. His legs screamed, his lungs burned, but he pushed forward. Master Ryn told him that stamina was not just about the body it was about teaching the mind to keep going when everything else wanted to stop.
His meals were carefully balanced grains, vegetables, fish, and herbs. No junk. His body slowly began to change. The skinny boy who had arrived with trembling arms grew lean muscles that coiled with strength.
By day, he trained in martial arts. Master Ryn taught him kung fu, movements smooth and precise, striking with speed and balance. He also drilled him in Kyokushin karate, a brutal style that focused on real combat, on surviving fights in the street, not just winning points in a ring.
"You're not learning for tournaments," Ryn said one day, his hands folded behind his back. "You're learning to fight people who won't play fair. People who stab from the back , who bring weapons, who won't stop until you're broken. You have to be ready for that."
Rael nodded, sweat dripping from his forehead as he punched the wooden dummy again and again until his knuckles split.
When he wasn't training his body, he was training his mind. For two hours every evening, he sat in silence, meditating. At first, it was torture the thoughts of his parents, his death, his anger all swirled endlessly. But slowly, with Master Ryn's guidance, he learned to breathe through them, to hold onto the pain without letting it drown him.
One day when he was meditating , mastsr ryn throw a knife on him , while meditating rael dodged it without even looking at it.
At night, he read books. History, philosophy, psychology, strategy anything Ryn placed in his hands. "Strength is useless without wisdom," the old man often said. "You want to fight against the world? Then you must understand it."
One year passed . and Rael was no longer the boy who had walked up to that wooden house. His body had become sharp and lean, his muscles are strong now but not bulky. His hair had grown long, silver strands falling wildly over his forehead. His face had sharpened, every feature more defined, carrying the weight of discipline and pain.
One evening, after a brutal sparring session, Ryn looked at him and gave a rare smile. "Rael… now you're a masterpiece. You're not just a fighter. You're a weapon. A living weapon."
Rael bowed, his chest heaving. "Thank you, Master Ryn. For everything you've taught me. I swear, you'll see my name one day. You'll hear it. Rael Rineheart."
The old man nodded, his eyes proud yet heavy with unspoken worry.
Soon after, Rael left the quiet mountains and boarded another plane. This time, he wasn't a student. He was a warrior returning to his battlefield. His destination was Nova the man who had given him this second chance.
When he reached the city, he found himself once again in front of Nova's office. The door loomed before him, and for a moment, Rael took a deep breath, steadying himself. Then he knocked.
"Enter," came the familiar voice from inside.
Rael pushed the door open. Nova sat at his desk, papers scattered before him, the dim light of a lamp casting sharp shadows on his face.
Nova's eyes flickered up, and for a moment, they widened in surprise. "Are you… Rael?" he asked, almost in disbelief. "I knew you were coming, but you came earlier than I expected."
Rael stepped in, his long coat brushing against his legs, his black hair falling in messy strands, his sharp red eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
"Yeah," Rael said simply. "It's me."
Nova leaned back in his chair, studying him. "You're completely changed in just one year. Honestly, I wouldn't have recognized you if I hadn't known your eyes. That training… it really did its job very well."
Rael allowed himself a faint smirk. "That's because of the training. Now I can do what you brought me here for."
Nova chuckled softly, though his eyes were serious. "Good. But remember, Rael you can't take down the world in one strike. You have to start small. You have to cut the roots before the tree." He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. So come here , he is your first target
Nova slid a thin file across the table. "Evan Cross."
Rael's eyes flickered down at the folder. Inside were photographs Evan's face, his usual routes, his hangouts, and even maps of his movements. There were also documents, testimonies, notes scribbled in the margins.
Nova's voice was calm but sharp. "Evan isn't the most powerful man on the list, but he's dangerous in his own way. He's a parasite. He hides in the alleys, picking out the weak. He assaults women, robs drunks, and yet he walks free because no one dares to testify. Because the law does nothing. Because he's connected with big people's. People fear him, and that fear keeps him alive."
Nova's eyes narrowed, glowing faintly under the dim light. "If you crush him, you'll send a message. You'll show people that justice exists
even if it doesn't wear a judge's robe."
Rael's hand clenched around the file. "So what's the plan?"
Before Nova could answer, another voice broke the silence. "I have the plan."
Rael turned. Mirae was there, sitting quietly with her laptop open. Her glasses glinted in the light as she pushed them up her nose. On the screen, dozens of files and images flashed, all about Evan Cross.
"I've been tracking him for the past three weeks," she said calmly. Her voice was steady, but her eyes carried a weight of quiet fury. "Evan usually roams the Dockside alleys after midnight. He looks for people who are alone
women, drunk men, anyone vulnerable. He uses violence, then vanishes before anyone can stop him. The police know, but they don't act. Too much money in the wrong pockets."
She tapped the keyboard, and a map appeared on the screen. Red dots marked Evan's usual hunting grounds. "He spends his stolen money in the gambling dens near Iron Street. And sometimes, he kidnaps people. Uses them for his dark business. That's why no one reports him they're too scared to end up like his victims."
Rael's blood burned in his veins.
Mirae turned the screen toward him. "But he has a weakness pride. He can't ignore a challenge. If someone provokes him, he'll always respond. That's how you'll get him. You set the bait, and he'll come to you."
She handed him a small notebook. Inside were testimonies words written by victims who had been too scared to go to the police. Their pain was raw, their fear etched into every sentence.
"Remember, Rael," Mirae whispered, her voice softer now. "You're not just punishing Evan. You're carrying their voices. Their cries for justice. Don't forget that."
Rael closed the notebook slowly. His eyes glowed faintly red, his jaw tightening. "I won't forget."
Nova leaned back again, a faint smile touching his lips. "Good. Then the hunt begins.