Ryan adjusted his mask back into place and jogged the rest of the way alone, the echo of Kai's laughter still ringing in his ears. The alleys gradually widened, the filth thinning into cracked pavement and half-functioning streetlights. By the time he reached his neighborhood, the sun had finally begun to claw its way above the buildings, casting a pale orange sheen over rusted balconies and dangling wires.
He slowed to a walk, breathing evenly, as if the chase had been nothing more than a warm-up lap. His mind replayed the moment Sunny's body had folded around his punch—the shock on Kai's face, the weight of impact traveling cleanly from knuckles to shoulder.
So it works, he thought. He wasn't exaggerating.
Romi's training flashed through his head.
Every night after work, when Romi returned with tired eyes and silent shoulders, he would wordlessly clear a space in the living room. No praise, no jokes—just demonstrations. How to twist the hips. How to keep balance. Where to strike so the body shuts down before the mind can react. Romi never said, This is dangerous, or Use this only if you must. He only said:
"Your body should know what to do before fear decides for you."
Ryan reached their house and slipped inside, locking the door behind him. The quiet returned instantly, thick and familiar. He removed the mask, ran a hand through his hair, and glanced again at the photos on the wall. His parents in uniform. Romi standing beside him, one hand resting on Ryan's shoulder, face calm but unreadable.
He went upstairs and dropped onto the floor, stretching his legs. His phone buzzed again.
Kai:
Don't forget evening. I'll check the crystals first. If they're real, we're eating like kings.
Ryan smirked and typed back.
Ryan:
Don't blow up your garage. I don't want to explain to your dad why you're missing eyebrows.
He tossed the phone aside and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Beneath the humor, a tight coil of excitement twisted in his chest. Today had been different. Not just running. Not just escaping.
He had fought—and won.It was four in the afternoon when Ryan locked the door behind him and stepped out into the fading light of Silver Slum. The streets were alive with the hum of a world that had long since outgrown its roots, yet this forgotten corner clung to its decrepit charm like a stubborn weed in cracked concrete. He was heading to Kai's garage, his mind drifting to the haul they'd scavenged that morning—the broken electronics, the crystalline shards pulsing with faint energy. By now, Kai must have sorted the junk from the gems, he thought, kicking at loose pebbles as he walked. A black half-mask covered the lower part of his face, his dark hair whipping in the breeze, occasionally veiling his eyes like errant shadows.
The alleys twisted like veins through the heart of the slum, crowded with people at this hour. Silver City had evolved into a gleaming metropolis of high-tech wonders—holographic billboards flickering in the distance, drones zipping overhead like metallic insects—but this basti remained a relic, a stubborn holdout against the tide of progress. The elite businessmen from the upper districts had demanded its evacuation more than once, their eyes on the land for some gleaming tower or automated factory. But no one listened. This wasn't a golden goose, but a silver one, laying eggs of opportunity in the shadows. It was the hub for all the dirty work: black-market hires, underground experiments, even the disposable labor that kept the rich afloat. The elites called them "sum rats"—vermin bred for the sewers of society. Who else would clean the gutters of the mansions if not these forgotten souls? Every role had its player, every niche its occupant.
Half the crowd seemed lost in a haze, their eyes glazed from the latest street drug: XVE-90, or Xeno-Vital Energy, as Kai had once explained. It was a waste product from the bio-tech labs, a twisted byproduct of the evolution process that had reshaped the world. Since the Great Impact five hundred years ago—when that colossal asteroid crashed from some distant spaceship, unleashing chaos—new species had emerged. Faster, stronger, more alien than anything humanity had known. Earth was no longer theirs alone; thirty percent of the planet belonged to the Animal Kingdom now, a wild expanse where humans weren't welcome. For three centuries, wars raged as beasts evolved and humans scrambled to keep pace, forging weapons from their own genetic modifications. Treaties were signed: we stay out of their domain, they out of ours. But animals were animals—instinct over intellect. Raids still happened, beasts slipping through the cracks to terrorize the cities.
That's why agencies sprouted like weeds. At the top sat the Earth Defense Force, guardians of the globe. Below them, National Defense Forces for each fractured nation. Then came the City Defense Forces, one for every sprawling urban hive like Silver City. And scattered among them were private hunter agencies, mercenaries for the corporations delving into the untamed thirty percent—territories even humans hadn't fully mapped.
Lost in these thoughts, Ryan arrived at Kai's garage, tucked behind his house like a secret lair. Kai had built a separate side entrance for himself: an automatic door disguised as a plain wall. As Ryan approached, he peered into a small camera lens, yanked off his mask, and grinned. "Kai, you tech god, open up."
A laser scanned his eyes with a soft hum. Then, a robotic voice chimed: "Welcome, Mr. Fatu."
Ryan rolled his eyes—Kai's petty prank, programmed just for him. The wall slid aside, revealing an iron door that parted down the middle. A laser light bathed him in a fine mist: an automatic sanitizer, killing off most bacteria on contact. Kai wasn't just a tech nerd; he was obsessively clean, his workspace a sterile sanctuary amid the slum's filth.
Stepping inside, Ryan spotted Kai and let out a whoop. "Dude, how many times have I told you to change that welcome tone?" He snatched the half-eaten burger from Kai's hand, leaped onto the bed, and chomped down.
Kai yelped, "Hey, you glutton! I just took one bite, and I just made the bed! Do you have any manners? That's not how you eat!"
Ryan swallowed a massive bite, his voice muffled. "Shut up, don't lecture me." He grabbed the remote from the side table and flicked on the TV. "So, what good stuff did we score today?"
Kai opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes darted to the screen. Silver City News Channel was broadcasting live from Ashfall Metropolis: a Level 3 evolved monster attack. A Thunder Wolf, the size of a truck, rampaged through the streets. Defense Force soldiers in gray and brown uniforms surrounded it, firing laser guns in a desperate bid to subdue the beast. But the wolf shrugged off the blasts like raindrops, its fur crackling with electric fury. They herded it toward an open field, but not without losses—soldiers fell in waves, seared by lightning bolts that arced from the creature's maw. Its speed was blinding: one moment here, the next there, a blur of thunder and teeth.
Then, the whir of helicopter blades cut through the chaos. The camera zoomed in on a man peering down from above. Ryan bolted upright, shouting, "Three-Star Commander James! The Metal Skin!"
James wore white gloves humming with strange energy, his long white hair billowing in the wind. A white pants and half-coat hugged his frame, veins bulging along his muscular arms. He popped a red lollipop from his pocket, stuck it in his mouth, and leaped—from a height equivalent to a twenty-story building. His white boots gleamed with side lights as he plummeted. The impact sent dirt flying in all directions.
His eyes locked with the Thunder Wolf's. The beast raised a massive claw, roaring. James caught it one-handed, his skin shifting to a dark, metallic tone. Blackened patches appeared on his coat where lightning struck, the ground beneath him charring to ash. He spat out the lollipop stick. "Useless taste. Totally ruined the fun."
His gloves transformed, sprouting massive blades like thorns. With a thunderous punch, he drove through the wolf's paw, emerging on the other side. The wolf, ten times his size, recoiled like a scolded kitten. Its speed faltered from the wound. It zigzagged around James, spotting a blind spot and firing a thunderbolt from its jaws.
But James vanished before it hit. A scream pierced the air—the wolf's. In a blink, James was at its flank, his blades slicing clean through its claws. Ryan rewound the footage obsessively. Kai snatched the remote. "Enough looping. Let's ultra-slow it."
He uploaded the clip to his computer, running a program. In frame-by-frame agony: James glanced back, his boots ignited. He dashed, gloves morphing into sharp blades mid-stride. A precise slash severed the claws. He halted ahead, claws in hand, a smirk on his face.
By then, the Defense Force had restrained the wolf with bio-tech gadgets—restraining fields and neural suppressors. It lay limp, unconscious.
Kai whistled. "What boots! Bio-tech XVE series. One day, I'll make my own—cooler design."
Ryan grinned. "Once I join the Defense Force, I'll wear those and run just as fast."
Kai laughed. "Those are specialized for gene-modified humans. Normals like you couldn't even jog in them. They amp up your skills a level. All their weapons are tailored to their mods."
Ryan's face fell. Then Kai pulled out two boots. "Don't worry, I made you high-tech ones. Double your speed." Blue and red, etched with dragon designs.
Next, a light blue crystal sword, handle carved with a dragon—3D printed by Kai. "Cool, right?"
Ryan hefted it; it felt oddly light and small. Kai explained: "Fused from those crystals we found. Low-level, but it'll boost your agility in the Defense exam. Heightens perception in a five-meter radius."
Ryan whooped, "Thanks, bro!"
Kai shoved him playfully. "No freebies in friendship. 10,000 credits, now."
Ryan blinked. "What?"
"10,000 credits, idiot! I'd sell it for 50,000 outside, but for you, discount."
Ryan arched a brow. "Fine." Kai's watch beeped: 100 credits transferred. He yelled, "That's 100, not 10,000!"
Ryan shrugged. "All I got now. Rest later. Add it to the tab."
"What tab? You've never paid!"
"Once I join Defense, I'll clear it all."
Kai kicked the floor. "Get out, don't show your face!"
Ryan slipped on the boots. "Tight fit, cheap material." He tucked the sword under his hoodie and bolted as Kai lunged. "I knew you'd do this! You'll regret it!"
Outside, Ryan voice-activated the boots via his earpiece. His speed surged—he felt like wind incarnate. Then: "To... to... to..." A beep. He tripped. "Battery low. Skill deactivated."
He cursed Kai inwardly. Home, he yanked off the boots, plugged them into the charging pod, and screamed: "Kai, you bastard, one day I'll kill you!" The battery display read: "FATU." Same on the sword. He pictured Kai's smug grin.
He microwaved instant noodles, doused them in his favorite sauce, and ate steaming bites. After, he pulled out a black box: only two tablets left. "Need to ask Romi for more," he muttered, swallowing one. He didn't know what they were for, just that he had to take them daily. No memory of when it started.
He crashed into sleep.
At 10 PM, the gate creaked open under a star-studded sky. A shadow slipped out: black hoodie, black pants, design of black-and-white eyes on the hood. Face masked, only eyes visible. Hair in a ponytail. Black shoes glowing faintly. A thin black sword at his back.
He perched on the building opposite the black market, waiting like a ghost. A voice from behind: soft, feminine. She wore a beige top and black shorts, her fair, smooth legs a distraction that could ensnare any mind. A cybernetic mask covered her face, voice modulated sweetly. "Finally, meeting Smokeghost. Heard you're flawless—no failed tasks."
Smokeghost's voice, thick and robotic: "You have my stuff, Kiti?"
She chuckled. "Wow, you even know my name. Yes, boss. Your gene suppressant tablets." She handed a black box, then a building map and a photo. "Here's the target."
Smokeghost took them in a second, vanishing without a glance back. "Your job will be done." His voice echoed in her ears as he leaped from the building. Kiti watched, biting her lip in unwitting admiration.
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