Nash sighed inside Hina's body, staring at the five gangsters who had their weapons trained on him. The glowing runes carved into their guns pulsed faintly, threatening with every breath. Outside, the chaos of the gang war grew louder, muffled explosions rattling the windows, screams blending with the sound of fire and lightning tearing the night apart.
Nash muttered to himself. "Screw it. I don't have time for this."
He clenched Hina's porcelain fists, her pale joints creaking as if flexing. The gangsters narrowed their eyes, fingers brushing the triggers.
The man in front shouted. "I said don't move! One step and we'll fill you with holes, puppet freak!"
Nash tilted Hina's head slowly, almost mockingly. "Let's see if those guns can truly hurt me."
The tension snapped.
"Fire!"
The room filled with thunder. Bullets screamed across the air, each one trailing faint colors of red sparks, blue streaks, green wisps and runes activating mid-flight. They hit Hina's chest, shoulders, face, and arms with sharp cracks.
But instead of piercing, they ricocheted.
The rounds bounced off her skin as if striking steel. Chips of paint-like sheen flaked but left no real damage. Sparks scattered against the walls and ceiling. The floorboards splintered where bullets deflected.
The gangsters' eyes widened.
"What the hell?!"
"Didn't even scratch her!"
"Impossible... these are runic rounds!"
Nash grinned inside. "My turn bitches."
Hina's body blurred. In a single bound, she crossed the room. Her fist slammed into the first man's stomach. A crunch echoed as the air rushed from his lungs and his eyes rolled back. His body flew across the room, smashing into a table that shattered into splinters. He collapsed, coughing, unconscious.
The others barely had time to scream before Nash whirled. A backhand from Hina cracked across another man's jaw, sending him spinning into the wall. He dropped like a sack of meat, drooling blood and teeth.
"Shit, shit, shit!" one shouted, firing wildly.
The bullets did nothing. Nash ducked, grabbed the man by the collar, and headbutted him. The crack of porcelain meeting skull dropped him instantly.
The last two tried to retreat, panic setting in.
"Fuck!"
Nash lunged, fists hammering into their guts. Both men folded, gasping, bones creaking as ribs fractured. They crumpled to the floor, moaning in agony.
Silence fell inside the room. Only the muffled chaos outside filled the air.
Nash stood among the unconscious groaning bodies, controlling Hina to shake her porcelain hand. "Damn. Even pulling punches, she hits like a truck. Broken ribs, cracked jaws… not dead though. That's enough."
He turned toward the corner crate. Without hesitation, he tore it open. Inside were stacks of cash bundled in rubber bands, wallets tossed in piles, and scattered jewelry.
Nash's eyes gleamed. "Jackpot."
He spotted an empty duffel bag leaning against the wall. He snatched it up and began stuffing it with everything. Wallets, cash, necklaces, even rings he yanked off the gangsters' limp fingers.
One of the groaning men tried to weakly protest. "S… stop… thief…"
Nash looked down at him. "Buddy, you're in a gang, throwing a war in the middle of the night. I even heard your gang rob stores and cars. You're the last guy who gets to call anyone a thief." He casually nudged the man's head with Hina's foot, knocking him unconscious again.
When the bag was heavy enough to strain the zipper, Nash finally noticed Hina's naked reflection in a cracked mirror leaning on the wall. Smooth porcelain skin, inhumanly perfect yet unsettling in its doll-like blankness.
He frowned. "I can't keep walking around naked, even if Hina's just a puppet her body is too realistic... and too distracting."
He dragged one of the unconscious men across the floor, stripped him of his jacket, pants, and boots, then shoved them onto Hina's body. The fit was loose but better than nothing. He tied the jacket tight and adjusted the pants, leaving her porcelain joints still faintly visible.
"There... Less creepy doll looking." Nash smirked.
Bag slung over his shoulder, he crept into the hallway.
The house was bigger than he had thought. The flooring was polished wood, the walls lined with expensive paintings and gold-framed mirrors. This wasn't just a gang hideout, it was one of the neighborhood's most luxurious home. Exactly the kind of place where rich transcenders or gang leaders would stash valuables.
Nash whispered to himself. "With a house like this there should be more valuables."
He dashed door to door, moving like a shadow despite Hina's heavy body.
The first room he kicked open revealed three men loading many guns in the table. They barely had time to shout before Hina's porcelain fists slammed into their stomachs and faces. In less than ten seconds, they were sprawled unconscious, their cash dragged into Nash's bag.
The second room was empty except for a cabinet filled with alcohol. Nash opened bottles, sniffed, then dumped the expensive ones into the bag as well.
In the third room, two men rushed at him with knives glowing faintly with runes. Nash sighed. "Really? Knives?"
Their blades scraped uselessly against Hina's porcelain arms. Nash caught both wrists, squeezed until the men screamed, then knocked their heads together with a loud crack. They slumped unconscious, knives clattering to the ground.
Nash scooped the knives into his bag. "Might sell these later."
He continued prowling, yanking paintings off walls, tapping behind them, opening drawers and smashing cabinets. In one bedroom he found stacks of drugs sealed in plastic bags. He wrinkled his nose. "Not touching that. I'd rather not glow in the dark tomorrow."
Then he entered a study.
Bookshelves lined the walls. A large safe sat in the corner, metal reinforced and heavy, runes etched faintly across its surface.
Nash grinned. "Finally."
He marched over and clenched Hina's porcelain fists. "Time to break the piggy bank."
The first punch rang like a bell, echoing through the entire house. The safe dented slightly but held.
The second punch rattled the bookshelf, knocking books loose.
The third punch shook dust from the ceiling.
By the fourth, cracks spread across the safe door.
Outside the room, shouts erupted.
"What the hell was that noise?"
"Someone's breaking something!"
"Upstairs, hurry!"
Nash cursed. "Too loud." He roared and slammed Hina's fist one last time. The safe door bent inward, hinges snapping, and finally burst open with a groan of metal.
Inside were bundles of cash stacked neatly. No artifacts, no glowing trinkets, just cold hard money.
Nash stuffed it all into the duffel bag. The weight nearly doubled. His grin stretched wide. "Now we're talking."
The door behind him burst open.
Four gangsters stormed in, guns blazing. Bullets ricocheted harmlessly off Hina's back.
Nash growled, spun, and charged. The first man went flying across the room with a punch to the chest. The second was lifted by the throat and slammed against the wall until he went limp. The third tried to retreat but Nash grabbed him by the leg and threw him into the fourth. Both hit the floor, groaning.
"Stay down." Nash kicked the door shut, leaving them piled together.
Breathing hard, he looked at the bag. "It's like robbing a bank or something."
He hefted it over his shoulder anyway, the porcelain body not even straining. Hina's strength made it easy.
As he crept back into the hallway, Nash frowned. "Strange. Why hasn't a transcender come after me yet? Outside, they're tearing each other apart, but here it's just regular thugs... there should be at least one in a house like this"
The floorboards groaned as he descended the staircase.
The sound of the war outside grew louder. Explosions shook the glass windows. He saw flashes of fire and lightning flickering through the curtains. The entire neighborhood was collapsing into a battlefield.
At the bottom of the stairs, Nash paused. A noise caught his ear.
A faint creak. A whisper of wood shifting.
He turned his head toward a side room.
A cabinet in the corner slowly slid open.
From the darkness inside, a man crawled out. His eyes darted wildly, sweat dripping from his brow.
Nash narrowed Hina's eyes. "A hidden room?"
The man froze. His gaze met the porcelain doll standing at the foot of the stairs. His mouth opened slightly.
For a long moment, neither moved.
The house around them shook with battle outside. Sparks lit the windows. Screams echoed in the streets.
But in that single room, the world had gone silent.
Nash muttered coldly. "What the hell are you hiding in there?"
The man's lips trembled, but no words came out. His eyes shifted toward the open cabinet behind him.
And Nash knew.
Something important was inside.