Suddenly, a member of the Fangs blocked their path.
???: Hand over your money.
Darok cracked his knuckles, his gaze cold.
Darok: I almost forgot… Hoshin District now belongs to the Azure Fangs.
The air shifted. His presence sharpened like a blade, slicing through the atmosphere. Even the wind grew heavier, carrying his intent. The Fang member's knees buckled before he even realized what was happening. His body trembled uncontrollably, as if pinned down by invisible chains.
???: H-hell… what is this…
Darok's gaze narrowed further, cutting through him like steel.
Darok: Run. Before you really can't.
The man's breath hitched. His survival instinct screamed, and without another word he scrambled away, stumbling over himself, desperate to escape that suffocating pressure.
Loma stood frozen, his mouth slightly open, eyes wide with disbelief. The street had gone eerily quiet, the world holding its breath in the wake of Darok's aura.
Loma (thinking): Just his presence alone… he crushed him.
Darok exhaled sharply, breaking the silence.
Darok: It just can't be helped. Let's go.
Loma (still shaken): Woah…
Darok: Move.
Loma: Alright.
Back home, Darok turned to him.
Darok: Go and wear a tracksuit. We're running.
Loma nodded quickly and changed, still replaying that moment in his mind.
They ran. Their footsteps echoed in the night, breaths ragged as their lungs fought for air. The world blurred around them—dark streets, dim lights, shadows passing. By the time they stopped, both were gasping, throats dry as deserts, chests burning.
Darok nodded, satisfied.
Darok: Good. Recovery is just as important as training. Go take a nap.
Loma: Mm.
Sleep swallowed him instantly.
Hours later, Darok shook him awake.
Darok: Wake up, Loma.
Loma groaned, eyes barely opening.
Darok: Dinner's ready.
He dragged himself up, washed his face, and joined Darok at the table. The quiet clatter of chopsticks filled the room, a strange contrast to the weight hanging between them.
Darok: So. Any plans when you recover?
Loma: Yeah. I'll be going to save Xoza and Vamos.
Darok froze for a second. His expression shifted—unease flickering in his eyes—but he quickly masked it.
Darok: They might be dead by now.
Loma slammed his chopsticks down slightly, shaking his head.
Loma: No. I'm sure they're not.
Darok looked at him, lips tightening. For a moment, his silence spoke louder than words. Finally, he sighed.
Darok: As you say then.
The rest of dinner passed in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.
When they finished, Darok stood.
Darok: Go to sleep. I will too.
Loma: …Yeah.
The house grew quiet, but Loma's determination burned quietly in the dark.