The man's pupils dilated as he pulled a small pill from his pocket and popped it into his mouth. His breathing steadied almost instantly, the trembling fading from his hands. The air in the room thickened, his presence sharpening.
Nash, standing tall inside Hina's porcelain body, did not wait. He surged forward, fist cocked, aiming for the man's jaw. The porcelain knuckles whistled through the air, promising to shatter bone.
But the strike hit nothing.
His punch went straight through the man's torso. The body dissolved into black haze for an instant, then solidified again two steps to the left.
Nash stumbled forward, blinking. "The hell—"
The man's voice came low, calm, carrying an edge of disdain. "Aggressive fellow with no hesitation... but clumsy."
Nash straightened, eyes narrowing. "So... you're… a transcender."
The man gave a faint smile, his skin shimmering with smoky patterns that pulsed faintly in rhythm with the flickering light. His shadow rippled unnaturally, curling like smoke across the floor. "Correct. And I am not one of those idiots you knocked around upstairs or those outside. My name is known in these parts. Top transcender of the Red Arms. They call me Smoke."
Nash tilted Hina's head, porcelain features unreadable, but his mind racing. "Top transcender, huh. Figures."
Smoke crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. "You are definitely not one of those Black Vultures. Unless… you are their hidden trap card and up with something." His gaze sharpened. "It is amusing. Both our gangs bought our relics from the same supplier, but you greedy vultures actually tried to steal a grade C artifact we just purchased for our leader."
"Grade C artifact?" Nash in his thoughts. "What the fuck are these gangs doing, shopping for nukes?"
Smoke's eyes glinted with aggression at Nash's silence. "So... What is your goal."
Nash stayed silent, tightening his fists.
Smoke's tone hardened. "Does not matter. You broke into Red Arms territory. That makes you prey."
He moved. One instant he stood still, the next he blurred, shadow streaking forward. Nash braced, swinging Hina's porcelain arm in a wide arc. But Smoke's body turned hazy, slipping through the attack, his hand materializing against Hina's shoulder.
The impact cracked like a gunshot. The floor groaned under the force. Nash staggered back, surprised by the sheer power behind it.
"Solid when you hit. Intangible when you dodge," Nash muttered. "That's some bullshit game mechanic."
Smoke's is quite creeped out by Hina's voice but he stayed calm and his lips curved. "And you… are a puppet. A very interesting and strong supernatural you have in your relic. Indestructible but let's see how powerful your mind is."
Nash froze for an instant. The implication sank in.
Smoke's aura pulsed. A wave of cold unease rolled across the room. Nash felt it seep into his mind, a whisper pressing at the edges of his thoughts. Doubt. Fear. The sense of being cornered.
Nash clenched Hina's porcelain fists so tight the joints creaked. "Nice try. You'll have to do better than whisper spooky thoughts."
Smoke smirked. "Oh, I will."
He lunged again. This time Nash met him head-on. Hina's fist slammed into Smoke's chest. For a split second, it connected but Smoke had solidified mid-charge. The impact sent him skidding back, crashing into the wall hard enough to crack plaster.
But instead of groaning, he chuckled. His body blurred into haze, and he drifted upward like a wisp of smoke, then reformed standing on the wall itself, sideways. His shadow stretched unnaturally across the surface, anchoring him.
"You hit hard, puppet," Smoke said evenly. "But not clever."
"Wall-crawling smoke ninja. Great," Nash muttered. He bent Hina's legs, then leapt. The porcelain body soared upward, closing the gap in a blink. He swung with a brutal overhand punch.
Smoke phased. The fist shattered the wall instead, wood and plaster exploding in a cloud. Smoke appeared behind him, arms wrapping around Hina's torso. He twisted, throwing all his strength into a suplex.
The house shook as Hina's porcelain body slammed into the floor. The boards cracked like dry twigs.
Nash groaned inside. "You've gotta be kidding me. Hina's body is indestructible, but I still felt that."
Smoke loomed, eyes cold. "You bleed somewhere. I only need to find where."
Nash twisted Hina's legs, kicking Smoke off. He rolled to his feet, dust falling from her porcelain hair. "Good luck with that. I've got infinite armor. You've got party tricks."
Smoke's shadow stretched again, rising like tendrils. The aura of unease thickened. Nash's chest tightened, thoughts fuzzing. For a heartbeat, he saw visions—himself back in his old apartment, lying dead after the car accident. The flashing headlights. The screech of brakes. The crunch of metal.
Nash's breath hitched. His grip faltered.
Smoke's voice hissed in his ear. "Ah, there it is. The crack in your armor. The mind always betrays the flesh."
Nash snarled. "Shut the hell up." He forced Hina's porcelain fist to smash sideways. It cut through smoke but caught Smoke's head as he solidified to attack. The blow rang like a bell, sending the transcender tumbling across the floor.
He rose again, grinning through a trickle of blood on his lip. "Impressive. You resist, very few are able to."
"Good to know I'm not like your usual victims," Nash shot back.
Smoke blurred forward again. The two clashed in a storm of strikes. Hina's fists blurred, every swing carrying enough force to crumple steel. Smoke weaved between them, phasing in and out, each counterstrike timed for when he solidified.
The fight tore the study apart. Bookshelves collapsed, paper fluttering like snow. The chandelier above snapped and crashed down, shattering. The duffel bag of money spilled open, bundles scattering across the floor.
Nash slammed Smoke into a desk, splintering it. Smoke answered with a knee to Hina's gut, the impact rattling the house.
"You cannot win," Smoke hissed. "You are strong, yes. But my attacks land where it matters most. Your mind will not hold forever."
Nash spat back, "Try me."
Smoke's aura flared. Shadows surged, coating the room. The lights dimmed as if smothered by black fog. Nash's vision swam.
For an instant, he stood in a different place. The mansion was gone. He was back in his apartment. The bag of chips on the counter. His phone buzzing with unread messages. The taste of blood in his mouth from the accident.
Then a voice whispered in his head. "You are dead, Nash. None of this is real. Let go."
Nash roared, forcing his mind to anchor. He slammed Hina's porcelain fists together with a sharp crack, the sound echoing like thunder. The illusion fractured. The mansion rushed back around him.
Smoke scowled. "Stubborn bastard."
"Damn right." Nash leapt forward. Hina's knee slammed into Smoke's chest, finally making him cough blood.
The transcender staggered back, but instead of faltering, his eyes lit with grim amusement. "Good. Very good. I like prey that fights."
Nash panted inside Hina's body. "Prey? Buddy, you've got it backwards."
Smoke's grin widened, teeth red. "Then let us see who the real hunter is."
The room shuddered as shadows thickened, swirling around Smoke like living tendrils. His body half-dissolved, half-solid, shifting with every breath.
Nash squared Hina's shoulders, fists raised, every nerve screaming in anticipation.