The sound of ragged breathing filled the ruined basement, the air thick with dust and the acrid tang of blood. Copperhand lay sprawled on his back amidst the rubble, his chest rising and falling as he let out a tired chuckle. "This," he began, his voice hoarse but still carrying its mocking edge, "was always more likely than the chances of me beating you."
Joshua stood over him, his shoulders heaving from exertion, blood trickling from cuts on his face and knuckles. His body was battered, his clothes in tatters, yet he remained upright, staring down at Copperhand. For a moment, he closed his eyes, drawing in deep, steadying breaths infused with chi. When his eyes reopened, much of his exhaustion seemed to fade, replaced by a measured calm.
"You're just saying that to save face," Joshua replied, his voice low but steady. A faint grin began to form at the corners of his lips. "You lost, and now you're trying to downplay it."
Copperhand shook his head, his grin widening despite the blood smeared on his face. "Quite the opposite. You're telling yourself that to make yourself feel better." He shifted slightly, his tone casual and infuriatingly calm. "Unlike you, I don't care about winning or losing. To me, it's all the same."
The hint of a grin on Joshua's face disappeared, replaced by a deep scowl. He sighed heavily, his gaze narrowing as he stepped forward. His boots crunched over the debris until he stood beside Copperhand's head. "I'm going to shut you up now," he declared coldly, raising his foot high, ready to bring it down.
Copperhand laughed—a genuine, raspy sound that echoed through the basement. "Go ahead. That'll just prove I won."
Joshua froze, his foot hovering mid-air. "What the hell are you talking about?" he growled.
Copperhand's smile didn't falter. "You said you were going to torture me, didn't you? But now I've pissed you off, so you're just going to kill me quick. That proves my point: you're not in control. You don't do whatever you want whenever you want. You just react. You're nothing more than a puppet to the words and actions of others."
Joshua's foot lowered slowly, his hands clenching into trembling fists. He knelt, grabbing Copperhand by the collar and yanking him up. His other hand rose, fist poised to beat him to death.
Copperhand didn't flinch. "See? Again, you changed your mind because of something I said. And yet you claim you act on your own will? At this point, you're just a slave to my words." His tone was infuriatingly calm, as though none of this truly mattered to him. "Go ahead. Hit me. Kill me. Shut me up. Prove me right."
"Shut up!" Joshua snapped, his fist trembling as it hovered above Copperhand's face, every fiber of his body teetering between violence and restraint.
Copperhand's grin only widened. "Ah, look at you. Struggling. It's almost pathetic. Like watching a child wrestle with something beyond their understanding."
Joshua's breathing became uneven, rage flooding his veins, though it was accompanied by another, more insidious feeling—something nameless and unsettling.
"You... you still lost in the end," Joshua hissed through gritted teeth.
Copperhand chuckled softly, his voice almost pitying. "Lost? Joshua, I won from the very start. The moment you didn't announce your name and title, I already had you." He tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing despite the fatigue in his eyes.
Joshua's body trembled. His mind slipped, his thoughts a chaotic swirl emotions. Joushua's fingers loosened. Joshua…
---
"Man, you're just a punching bag," Viper sneered, effortlessly sidestepping Philip's wild, clawed swipe. His fist shot forward like a piston, slamming into Philip's face with enough force to make the larger man stumble back. Philip snarled, baring his teeth in rage as he steadied himself. "When I'm done with you, there won't be enough left to—"
Viper interrupted him with a quick snap kick to the throat, cutting him off mid-threat and sending him crashing onto the ground. He let out an exaggerated sigh of annoyance as he watched Philip struggle to rise for the umpteenth time. "By goddess, do you ever stop talking? You're like a broken record."
Philip growled low in his throat, starting to push himself up again. Before either could make their next move, the heavy sound of something landing behind them drew their attention. Both fighters turned, along with the remaining members of Copperhand's crew and even Nunin, who cautiously poked his head out from his hiding spot.
Joshua stood there, silhouetted against the ruined building he had just leapt from. He looked like he'd been dragged through hell. His body was bloodied and bruised, his clothes torn and filthy. His breath came slow but heavy, the rise and fall of his chest betraying the exhaustion he refused to show on his face.
Viper raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly, glancing at Joshua with mild curiosity. "Well, looks like that's over and done with," he remarked nonchalantly, his tone dismissive. With a wave, he motioned for the rest of Copperhand's people to follow him as he turned and headed toward the ruined building Joshua had just emerged from. None of them spared Joshua so much as a second glance as they moved past him, treating him like little more than a broken obstacle in their path.
Joshua himself began to walk away, his steps slow, the weight of his exhaustion evident in his posture. He paid no attention to Copperhand's crew as he passed them. The demi-human wolfman on the other hand, turned toward Copperhand's people, his eyes narrowing into a fierce glare.
"Where do you think you're going?!" Philip barked, his voice a guttural snarl as he started forward, claws flexing in anticipation of another fight.
Before he could charge, Joshua's hand shot out, planting firmly against Philip's chest. The sudden force stopped him mid-step.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Philip barked, his voice a low growl as he stared at Joshua. "Why are you stopping me? They're just standing there!"
But before he could move, Joshua glanced at him. Something in his eyes made Philip stop cold. He froze in place, caught by whatever it was that he had seen, and simply stood there, speechless.
"We're leaving," Joshua said, his voice low and hollow, yet brimming with finality. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an order.
Philip hesitated, his body tense, but he eventually took a step back, his growl subsiding into a frustrated exhale. He cast a lingering glance at Copperhand's crew, his claws twitching as if aching for action. With a final shake of his head, he turned and followed behind Joshua, his tail swishing in irritation.
From the shadows, Nunin emerged cautiously, his small frame slinking toward the group. He didn't say a word, simply falling in step behind Philip with a nervous glance over his shoulder at Copperhand's crew.
As the three moved further away, one of Copperhand's crew turned to Viper, his expression puzzled. "Shouldn't we just kill 'em?" he asked, his tone uncertain.
Viper exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to face the speaker. "There's no point," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. His voice was calm, almost bored, as he watched Joshua's group disappear into the distance. "The boss already broke him. Killing them now would be like smashing a broken tool—what's the point? It doesn't change anything."
He glanced down into the basement where Copperhand stood, brushing dust and grime from his clothes. Viper called out with a smirk, "Ain't that right, boss?"
Copperhand straightened, his usual grin plastered across his bloodied face as he gave himself one final pat to dislodge the dust. "Yes," he replied smoothly, his tone casual and full of confidence. "Yes, it absolutely is."