In a dimly lit room crammed with an assortment of guns, swords, and other weapons, a man with a deep, gravelly voice spoke into a phone. "The intruders made it in and one of them is heading my way? Sounds like great fun! I thought I'd be sitting here for the rest of my life!"
The walls, covered with racks and shelves bursting with weaponry, seemed to vibrate with anticipation. The man's voice took on a more sinister tone. "They defeated X-001, destroying a nearby planet in the process? So some of these guys are universal threats!"
A loud bang reverberated through the room, and a fist imprint appeared on the massive vault door sealing the room. The man chuckled. "Oh, I think the company is here, Anata. I'll talk to you later." The click of the phone being set down echoed ominously.
The pounding on the door grew more insistent, each blow leaving a deeper dent, until finally, with a thunderous crash, the door was breached. Heunae stood in the doorway, surveying the room.
"So this is the big room, where they craft the weapons and store them," Heunae observed, his eyes narrowing.
A figure stomped into view, cracking his knuckles with a menacing grin. "You seem to know a lot," he said. "Howdy."
Heunae's eyes flickered with curiosity. "Which one are you—" His question was cut short as the man grabbed his arm. Heunae's limb stretched unnaturally, drawing a look of surprise from his assailant.
"Chains? Pardon my language... what the fuck?" the man exclaimed.
"My magical weapon is my bones," Heunae explained, his tone calm despite the tension.
The man's eyes gleamed with interest. "Are you one of us? That's something Anata would do to some one-off guy. Are you a mobling?"
"No, I'm a weapon," Heunae replied, his voice steady.
"I like your confidence," the man said before punching Heunae in the chest. The force sent Heunae flying into the wall. Heunae's mind raced.
I felt that!
"You ran into a bad match-up, boy. I'm Wareme, Z-010. I can break anything, even magical weapons," Wareme declared, his voice dripping with arrogance.
Impossible, Heunae thought, only magical weapons can damage magical weapons. Does he share the properties of a magical weapon?
Heunae took a deep breath. "Shimo Be No Muchi skill 1: Air Direction!" He launched a punch into the air, his arm extending towards Wareme.
Wareme dodged effortlessly. "How does your skin stretch with your chains?" he wondered aloud.
The punch redirected mid-air and struck Wareme in the back, but he didn't even flinch. "It came back like a boomerang!" Wareme grabbed Heunae's arm, yanking him into a crushing blow to his stomach that sent Heunae sprawling onto his back. Wareme loomed over him, seizing his head and slamming it into the ground with brutal force.
"Maybe I should rip you in half," Wareme mused, his voice a chilling blend of curiosity and malice.
Heunae's thoughts raced as he struggled to process the situation. He took that punch like it was nothing, he realized, doubt creeping into his mind. Can I really win this?
Pushing his uncertainty aside, Heunae flipped backward onto his feet, determination flashing in his eyes. "Shimo Be No Muchi, skill 2 and 4: Ghost Spin!" he shouted. His arms suddenly swelled in size, shrouded in a glowing mist that pulsed with energy. Heunae's limbs began to spin around him like twin vortexes, and with a powerful thrust, he unleashed a stretching punch from both hands.
But Wareme was already a step ahead. He vanished from sight, reappearing just out of reach of the spinning fists, watching them as they flew across the room. The punches ricocheted off unseen barriers and rocketed back toward Wareme.
"Air magic barriers that bounce your fists back to the target?" Wareme mused, deftly dodging the incoming strikes. The fists, now moving with ever-increasing speed and power, began to blur, becoming nearly invisible as they ricocheted around the room.
Wareme took a casual step forward, his voice calm despite the chaos. "Two large objects moving at light speed can really murder somebody." Suddenly, the fists collided with Wareme from multiple sides. Yet, to Heunae's disbelief, Wareme remained completely unaffected.
"How—" Heunae began, retracting his arms in frustration.
Wareme didn't give him a chance to recover. "Specific Magic: Thunder Pull and Strike," he declared. His hands crackled with a purple electrical aura, and before Heunae could react, he was ensnared by a lasso of purple lightning. The current surged through him, pulling him forcefully towards Wareme, who delivered a devastating punch to the top of Heunae's head. The impact was so powerful that Heunae's lower half was buried into the floor.
"Specific Magic: Combo," Wareme announced with a wicked grin. He followed up with a punch to Heunae's face, and in an instant, an unseen force struck Heunae from the opposite side. Wareme continued his relentless assault, each punch mirrored by the invisible force, turning Heunae's face into a target of a brutal barrage.
His magic can also hurt me? Heunae's mind raced, trying to comprehend the power he was up against. How does he have this ability? He could feel the strain in his chains. My chains... they're breaking!
Wareme's relentless assault showed no signs of slowing. "Your weapon is quite durable," he admitted, his fists moving faster and harder, testing the limits of Heunae's resilience.
Flashback
Heunae lay unconscious on a medical bed, his body motionless and his arm still missing, a painful reminder of his previous battle. Dr. Deer and Dr. Cherry stood over him, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. Slowly, Heunae began to stir, his eyes blinking open as he regained consciousness.
"You're awake now, sleepyhead!" Dr. Deer greeted him with a light, cheerful tone, though her eyes were serious.
Heunae's gaze darted around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"The Negative Point," Dr. Cherry replied, her voice clinical, almost detached.
Dr. Deer nodded. "You're being brought in for inspections. We were supposed to heal you, but your bones... they're a magical weapon."
Heunae's body tensed as he noticed the vines binding him to the bed. "Release me!" he demanded, pulling against his restraints.
Dr. Deer glanced at Dr. Cherry, her brow furrowing in concern. "Kibirka, his magical weapon didn't disappear after he went unconscious."
Dr. Cherry nodded, her tone growing more analytical. "Yes, yes, I noticed. Something like this can only be achieved by using multiple layers and reinforcements of forbidden magic."
"Yes—" Dr. Deer began, her words cutting off as her eyes widened in surprise. Before her eyes, a chunk of Heunae's chain began to regenerate. "Oh my, his magical weapon also has regenerative capabilities!"
"More forbidden magic," Dr. Cherry muttered, almost to herself.
Heunae's eyes narrowed as he glared at the two doctors. "What will you two do with me!?"
Dr. Deer smiled softly, though her expression held an edge of finality. "We would heal you, but you actually seem fine. So now we need to get a Purotekuta to escort you to the prison."
Heunae's eyes flashed with anger. "You're taking me prisoner? How foolish on your behalf's!"
Dr. Deer met his gaze evenly. "It's not like you're ever going to break out. Kibirka, which Purotekuta signed up to escort him? I want to prepare something nice for them when they show up!"
Dr. Cherry glanced at her notes. "Juyo."
Dr. Deer's eyes widened in surprise. "Does he not have anything better to do? Someone of his strength and fame among the ranks shouldn't be taking small missions like this."
---
Juyo leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed as he observed the scene with a calm, unhurried demeanor. "Dr. Deer, my time is infinite," he stated, his voice smooth and confident.
Dr. Deer spun around, startled. "Oh, Juyo! When did you get here?"
"Right after Cherry said my name," Juyo replied coolly, his eyes never leaving Heunae.
Dr. Cherry, unfazed, crossed her arms as well. "You really are as quick as they say," she remarked, a hint of admiration in her tone.
Juyo's gaze flicked to Dr. Cherry, and for a moment, his eyes bore into her with a sharp intensity. But he quickly redirected his attention to Heunae. "You can release the criminal," Juyo instructed, his voice filled with quiet authority. "I have him under control."
Heunae, still bound, couldn't help but sneer. "How cocky of you."
Juyo met his defiance with a calm yet deadly serious tone. "You lost to a student. I am much, much, much stronger than any student. If you try anything bold, I'll gladly introduce you to the afterlife."
Heunae clenched his teeth in frustration, his body tense with anger.
"Very well!" Dr. Deer chirped, motioning to the vines that bound Heunae. In an instant, they began to unwind and release him.
"You can stand up," Dr. Deer encouraged as the vines fell away.
Heunae slowly rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he took in the situation. "You're not scared?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Dr. Cherry chuckled lightly. "As long as Juyo is here, why would we be concerned about a weak weapon destroyed by an apprentice?"
The insult struck Heunae like a physical blow. "Y-You little—" Heunae began, stepping off the bed, but before he could act, Juyo's hand clamped down on his shoulder, freezing him in place.
"Try anything bold," Juyo repeated, his voice low and menacing, "and I'll gladly introduce you to the afterlife."
A cold sweat trickled down Heunae's cheek as he stammered, "I—"
Heunae and Juyo were now outside, the air around them still and tense. Heunae studied Juyo, his curiosity piqued. "Who are you?"
"Unstoppable in progress," Juyo answered, his voice cryptic.
Heunae frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Suddenly, the world around them seemed to drain of color, the vibrant hues fading into shades of gray. Heunae's eyes widened in alarm. "What did you just do—"
"I stopped time," Juyo explained, his tone casual as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "Only the two of us can move in it, so I want to ask you a question."
Heunae swallowed nervously. "G-Go ahead."
"Who is Ryoshi Taisaku?" Juyo's voice was calm, but there was an underlying intensity that made the question feel like a demand rather than a request.
Heunae blinked in confusion. "You mean that... kid?"
"The winter season's inheritor," Juyo clarified, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Heunae shook his head. "Why would I know?"
In an instant, the world snapped back to normal, the colors returning in a rush. Juyo rubbed his eyes, turning his back to Heunae as if the conversation had drained him. "Why would you know..." he muttered, more to himself than to Heunae. "Let's go to the prison."
Heunae now found himself behind bars, surrounded by dozens of other prisoners. The prison was massive, far larger than the one in Endorando, yet it felt eerily quiet. Heunae stared out through the bars, his thoughts swirling with unease. Something is off. This prison is a lot larger than the prison in Endorando, yet there are no guards around, and they already fight as much as they stink. What's keeping them from causing a riot?
His thoughts were interrupted as a random prisoner placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, new guy—"
Before the prisoner could finish, Heunae's fist shot out, connecting with the man's face and sending him crashing into a wall, completely knocked out. The other prisoners immediately backed away, fear evident in their eyes.
"Damn, what a strong guy!" one of the prisoners muttered, awe and fear mixing in his voice.
A skinny prisoner, with a sly grin plastered on his face, stepped up to Heunae. "You're in the wrong cell, fufufutu!"
Heunae barely spared him a glance. "I don't want to interact with any of you weaklings."
The skinny prisoner, undeterred, chuckled again. "Fufufutu, no, no! We can be friends here, and we can use their mistake against them to perhaps... break out, fufufutu!"
Heunae's interest was piqued, though he still didn't face the skinny prisoner. "I'm listening."
"The name's Weasel," the prisoner introduced himself, his voice oozing with a strange mix of charm and cunning. "Who may you be, fufufutu?"
"Heunae," he replied curtly, his patience wearing thin. "Why do you have such a stupid laugh?"
Weasel's grin widened. "It's just my thing, fufufutu. Why are you here?"
Heunae's fists clenched as frustration and bitterness welled up inside him. "I failed," he admitted, his voice thick with anger. "I was beaten by some weakling, part of a three-man squad that wiped out my forces! I could have been a god!"
Weasel's eyes widened with interest. "Wait, are you saying that you went up against a season student?" he asked, leaning in closer.
Heunae frowned in confusion. "I'm not familiar with that language," he muttered, dismissing the unfamiliar term.
Weasel hesitated, searching for the right words. "Uh—I—"
"Save your breath," Heunae cut him off. His tone was sharp, tinged with a mixture of pride and disdain. "The one I faced must have been the strongest. Though he wasn't the one to beat my lord, it must have been a mismatch."
Weasel's curiosity deepened. "Who'd you face? The summer season?"
Heunae's eyes darkened at the memory. "He used ice and could breathe fire."
Weasel's sly grin returned, his laughter echoing through the cell. "Oh, so you fought the winter season's trapper. That also means you were part of that vampire army, fufufutu!"
Heunae's expression turned suspicious. "How do you know about that?"
Weasel chuckled again, his laughter grating on Heunae's nerves. "Fufufutu, even us prisoners get newspapers. It was the talk of the prison for a good while. We were betting on how many more inmates were gonna join us after they completed that."
Heunae sneered, his lips curling in disdain. "I guess a lot of you lost money. Only one of us survived."
Weasel's grin grew even wider. "Fufufutu, and that's why I'm the richest person in the prison. One's my lucky number after all, fufufutu."
Heunae's irritation was palpable. "Tch, how lucky."
Weasel's tone became more serious as he eyed Heunae. "I guess the warden got lazy with placing you in the correct cell."
Heunae's attention piqued. "Hm?"
Weasel leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You see, the only people who keep us in check are the fall season and her students, and the warden, with the warden being the main reason we stay here."
Heunae's disdain returned, his voice dripping with contempt. "Ugh, only humans fear humans."
Weasel's expression turned grim. "The warden and human should not be in the same sentence. Depending on how dangerous the criminal is, we're placed in different cells down one long hallway, and in the cells are more cells behind them. Think of it as all of the categories lined up in a row—the worst criminals are in the center, closer to the warden's office. Easy criminals are closer to the entrance, and the mediocre ones are closer to the fall season's area. Within each row is a column consisting of ten separate rooms, with the strongest criminals held at the back, and the weakest at the front."
Heunae's eyes narrowed as he processed the information. "We're in the front right next to the fall season's area..."
Weasel nodded, his grin returning. "Fufufutu, but you're a mission threat, right?"
Heunae's pride flared. "Of course I am."
Weasel's eyes glinted with mischief. "I got beat by some random soldiers after going a bit crazy with my fire magic."
Heunae's gaze sharpened as a thought struck him. "Speaking of, what happened to my mana?"
Weasel's grin faltered slightly. "It's a side-effect of the warden's ability. We lose all of our magic here."
A dark smile spread across Heunae's face as he stretched his arm out and grabbed onto the cell bars. The prisoners behind him gasped dramatically and jumped back in terror.
Weasel's eyes widened in shock. "How the—"
Heunae's voice was cold and dangerous. "I'm a monster, after all."
Weasel's shock quickly turned into excitement. "I actually think you can get us out!"
Before they could continue, a voice cut through the tension, authoritative and chilling. "There is a reason why the stronger prisoners don't even attempt to escape."
The prisoners' collective fear was palpable as they whispered in terror, "THE WARDEN!!!"
A man stepped into view, his presence commanding the room. He wore a vertical-shaped eye patch over his left eye, short purple hair, and a black button-up stiff collar jacket with chain-mail over it. His black pants were complemented by a spiked helmet that added to his intimidating aura. He stopped in front of the cell, his single visible eye cold and calculating.
Heunae's voice dripped with disdain as he addressed the figure before him. "You guys are scared of this guy?"
The warden's voice was low and filled with unshakable authority. "I haven't met you yet, but you seem to be under the effect of my magic already. I'm Superintendent Akugama Rain, or as everyone else calls me, the Warden."
Heunae's curiosity was piqued despite himself. "What kind of magic do you have? It's strong enough to breach my magical weapon."
Akugama's expression remained impassive. "I don't have to answer that, but you can guess. Here's a hint."
As Akugama's open eye began to glow, thousands of chains materialized, snaking out from his back and wrapping around the prisoners, including Heunae. The chains extended throughout the entire prison, an omnipresent reminder of Akugama's control.
"You have less control here than you think," Akugama warned, his voice deadly serious. "Try anything, and I'll kill you in an instant."
Weasel's earlier confidence was shattered, and he whispered urgently into Heunae's ear, "I think our plan has to go on hold, fufufutu."
Not long after the news of Ryoshi's reported kidnapping spread, Heunae sat in his cell, staring blankly at the wall. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, doubts, and memories.
Is this my life now? Sitting behind bars, anticipating freedom that will never come? Heunae mused, his gaze distant.
A flash of memory crossed his vision—Toruri passing by his cell. The image lingered, heavy with unanswered questions.
Really... Why did he save me? Heunae wondered, his mind replaying the conversation he had with Toruri.
Toruri's voice echoed in his mind: "Let me tell you this. You're so spoiled that you can't see when someone's trying to use you for their self-benefits."
Back then, I asked him for a reason to believe him, for a reason to trust my enemy, but even then... Another memory surfaced, one where Toruri's conviction shone through.
"I'll show you the truth! And if I'm wrong, I'll let you kill me or whatever. You just have to trust me."
Did I really give him my trust? Heunae thought as he rubbed the vampire fang mark on his neck. He also gave me his trust. I could have killed him anytime, regardless of the outcome, but I didn't...
He looked up at the ceiling, his thoughts spiraling. Why did he help me? He could have left me for dead, and his quest would have been a lot easier. I was only dead weight. Why did he feel the need to save me, to try to change me?
Heunae clenched his fists, a mix of frustration and confusion bubbling to the surface. "What did he see in such a worthless tool like me?"
Weasel, noticing Heunae's turmoil, turned over and looked at him.
Heunae's voice grew more intense, almost as if he were talking to himself. "A tool bound to his creator, loyal to all of his commands. A tool meant to be thrown out once broken."
Weasel's concern deepened. "Heunae?"
Heunae continued, seemingly oblivious to the others around him. "He proved to me that I was just a tool being used because I couldn't be used any other way!"
The other prisoners turned their attention to Heunae, his back turned to them as he stared at the floor, hiding his face from view.
Heunae's thoughts raced. "Was it my pride that brought me to not fight back, or was it doubt? Did I really want an enemy to pick me up and use me again?"
Weasel slowly approached, his steps cautious.
Heunae's voice wavered, filled with uncertainty. "Was I even being used?"
Another flashback seized his mind. He remembered the moment when Toruri was carrying him, their exchange replaying vividly.
"Put me down already, human! This is just embarrassing!" Heunae had snapped.
"Why won't you just shut up and stop complaining!" Toruri had retorted.
"You should have left me to die. This will be your final mistake. Why didn't you finish me off?" Heunae had demanded, his pride still intact despite his injuries.
Toruri's reply was simple, yet it shook Heunae to his core: "Because, I think you're a cool dude."
The memory faded, leaving Heunae with more questions than answers.
Or was I being renewed?
Weasel tapped Heunae on the shoulder, his concern clear in his eyes. "Are you alright?"
Heunae stood up, his hand trembling as he raised it to cover his mouth, trying to hold back the wave of emotions threatening to break free.
"Weasel, tell me..."
Weasel's voice was soft, almost hesitant. "Heunae—"
Heunae turned around, revealing his face streaked with tears, his eyes squinting as he struggled to keep control. His voice broke, raw and desperate. "COULD I CHANGE, IF I REALLY TRIED TO?!"
Flashback Over
Wareme's voice cut through the fog of memories. "Stand up, little man!"
Heunae pushed himself up from the ground, his body aching but his resolve unyielding.
Redemption isn't an easy thing to do, Heunae thought as he rose to his feet. Some criminals are too far gone in their mayhem to be redeemed.
Wareme wasted no time, hooking Heunae in the face with a powerful punch, knocking him to the side. But Heunae remained standing, his determination keeping him upright.
Some criminals are too crazy to even consider being redeemed. Heunae clapped his hands together, summoning a large missile of poison magic that shot toward Wareme. But Wareme effortlessly caught the missile, ripping it in half and tossing the pieces to the ground. He dashed forward, delivering a devastating punch to Heunae's gut, sending him crashing into a wall.
I could have been both, but I'm going to stop myself before it gets too bad. I was used as a pawn to protect a king. Heunae stretched his arm out, attempting to land a punch on Wareme. But the blow bounced harmlessly off Wareme's chest, who responded with a laugh before lunging forward and hooking Heunae in the face again, sending him tumbling. Yet, Heunae stood right back up.
Though I could've stood at the top, I'd rather stand at the top as the winning piece, rather than the discarded pawn! A fierce purple aura began to flare up around Heunae, his resolve hardening with each passing second.
I'm not going to be a weapon for anyone else. I won't be used any longer! Heunae's aura grew more intense, the air around him crackling with energy.
Wareme raised an eyebrow, noticing the shift. "You're powering up a bit."
I AM HUMAN!!! Heunae's voice roared within his mind.
Heunae raised his arms, the aura around him surging. "AWAKEN!!! Kodomo o Mezame Saseru Muchi!!!!"
A massive tornado of glowing mist erupted from Heunae's body, swirling violently around him.
Wareme stared at the spectacle, unphased. "Don't tell me you just off'd yourself."
But as quickly as it appeared, the tornado shrunk and was pulled back into Heunae's body. The transformation was complete. A powerful mist aura surrounded him, his eyes glowing purple with raw energy, the magic flowing from them like mist. Spikes now ran from his shoulders to the backs of his hands, each with a glowing, potent purple tip. His hair flowed as if it were made of smoke, moving with an otherworldly energy.
Wareme observed Heunae's new form with a smirk. "Go figure."