Days later, Grimar arrives in a far away city called, G-city, a city controlled by gangs, he heads down in alley and gets into a golden elevator, scanning his golden card. As the elevator goes down, the underground laboratory in G-City buzzes with activity, a mix of technology. Grimar emerges from the elevator, his bloodied figure and the lifeless body of Charlie in his arms drawing the attention of every scientist and technician in the room. Whispers ripple through the crowd as they part from him.
Grimar's piercing gaze scans the room. "Where's Heimer?!"he growls.
The scientists point nervously toward the back of the facility. Without hesitation, Grimar strides past rows of advanced machinery and through heavy doors, leaving a trail of blood and tension in his wake.
Grimar barges into an operating room where a team of doctors huddle over a patient on the table. At the center of it all stands Heimer, his pristine lab coat glowing under the sterile lights.
Grimar calls out, his voice cold and sharp. "Heimer!"
The head scientist adjusts his glasses, irritated. "I may have given you a golden card, Grimar, but you will respect the sanctity of my work—"
His words falter when he sees Charlie's body in Grimar's arms. Heimer's irritation melts into awe as he approaches the body, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"The famous magic farmer" Heimer murmurs. He touches the body, running his fingers over Charlie's wounds. Then, disturbingly, he leans in to sniff the corpse. " The body is still fresh, we can work with this".
Grimar's jaw tightens, his expression darkening." Yeah, it's time for a change".
Days pass. Grimar undergoes enhancements in the lab, pushing his body to its limits. When he isn't in surgery or undergoing grueling tests, he trains alone in his quarters, testing his newfound strength and reflexes. Each punch, each swing of his blade feels sharper, faster, deadlier.
Despite his focus, Grimar can't help but feel drawn to the lab where the scientists work on Charlie's body. Late one night, he watches from the shadows as they extract samples, analyze his cells, and study the unique nullifying magic coursing through Charlie's veins.
One evening, while observing the lab's activities, Grimar notices a new face among the scientists. A young man, slightly out of place in his nervous movements and frequent glances at the other workers. Something about him feels off.
Grimar's instincts flare. Without warning, he draws a short blade and dives at the newcomer. The scientists around them scatter, screaming as Grimar's blade arcs toward the man.
To his surprise, the young scientist reacts quickly, reveals a concealed weapon of his own—a collapsible blade. The two clash, sparks flying as metal meets metal.
Grimar glances at the scientist as he reveals himself as an assassin, "Oh, the higher-ups have found me," he muttered as the assassin lunged at him. Their weapons clashed violently, the sound echoing through the room. Grimar pushed the pace, his swings becoming faster and more precise. With a sharp strike, his blade cut across the assassin's face, leaving a bloody mark.
The assassin growled and raised his glowing hand, magic particles swirling around it. He fired an energy blast, but Grimar dodged with practiced agility. Seizing the opportunity, Grimar hurled his blade straight into the assassin's magic-wielding hand.
The assassin snarled in pain but charged forward, undeterred. Grimar reacted quickly, sidestepping and delivering a powerful kick to the assassin's torso. As the assassin stumbled, Grimar followed with an upward kick, sending his own sword flying into the air. Without hesitation, Grimar catches the falling blade and, in one clean motion, slashed the assassin's throat.
The assassin collapsed to the ground, blood pooling around him. Despite the mortal wound, he smiled—a chilling, bloody grin. His body began to glow with an eerie blue light. Grimar's eyes widened in realization. "Everyone, run!" he shouted.
Grimar sprinted toward the nearest exit as the assassin's body detonated in a massive explosion of magic energy. The shockwave tore through the room, leaving a trail of destruction.
As the smoke began to clear, Heimer entered the room, his voice ringing out. "Grimar! Where are you?" His gaze settled on Grimar, slumped against a wall, bloodied but alive.
"They've found us," Grimar said, his voice tinged with exhaustion.
"Yeah," Heimer replied, nodding. "But we're ready too. Besides, you owe me big for all this damage. I only care about my profits—so you go do your thing."
Moments later, they entered another room where Heimer unveiled a striking weapon—a sleek, intricately designed gun.
"This," Heimer began, holding it up, "is a one-of-a-kind magic gun, designed specifically for non-magic users." He pointed to the silver bullets beside it. "This gun and these bullets were forged from the body of Charlie. Once a magic user is hit by one bullet, all their magic ceases to exist until the two pearl sources are destroyed."
Heimer revealed two glowing pearls, placing them in front of Grimar. Without hesitation, Grimar takes one and pressed it against Heimer chest's. The pearl glowed briefly before it fused into his body.
Heimer smirked. "You've chosen me to be one of the pearl sources. So, who'll be the other?"
Grimar fell silent for a moment, the weight of the decision heavy in the air. Finally, he looked up. "I have someone in mind."
Time passed as Grimar journeyed across the world of Terra, ruthlessly eliminating any assassins who dared stalks him. His travels eventually led him to Nemura City, the largest and most bustling metropolis in the world.
Walking among a crowd of people waving signs in support of the new overlord, Dober, Grimar kept his hood low, blending in. The throng of supporters cheered as they gathered near a grand stage where Dober addressed the masses. His speech was met with deafening applause, solidifying his influence.
As Dober concluded his speech, he and his family took their seats at a long table, preparing to greet their devoted followers. One by one, fans stepped onto the stage, shaking hands and exchanging words with the overlord and his family.
Grimar approached in turn, his expression unreadable. He shook hands with Dober's wife, offering a polite smile, and then with his son, Nhia. But as he reached Dober, Grimar's hand hesitated. From within his vest, he pulled out the magic pearl, his fingers tightening around it as he prepared to plant it on the overlord.
Before he could act, a sleek, humanoid robot emerged from behind Dober. Its metal hand clamped onto Grimar's wrist with inhuman strength, forcing him to drop the pearl onto the table. The glowing sphere rolled to a stop in front of Nhia, who picked it up curiously.
The robot's mechanical voice buzzed. "What is the meaning of this?"
Grimar gave a calm, disarming smile. "Just a gift for our new overlord," he said smoothly.
Nhia studied the pearl, holding it up to the light. As he examined it, the pearl glowed and, in an instant, merged into his eye. A faint, magical shimmer surrounded him for a brief moment before fading.
Grimar's smile faltered for the briefest second. Seizing his moment, he bolts from the stage. Shouts erupted as Dober's soldiers surged after him, weaving through the crowd in pursuit.
Grimar barely managed to escape the city's tight security, slipping into the shadows of an alley. Catching his breath, he leaned against the wall, muttering to himself.
"Well, that didn't go as planned," he said with a wry grin. "But I don't think it changes much. The son of Dober is probably hard to kill anyway, being part of such a powerful family." He paused, his voice softening slightly. "Well, kid, live as long as you can. The longer you hold on, the harder it'll be for these corrupt higher-ups to beat me."
With that, Grimar disappeared into the night, his mission still far from over.
Grimar returned to Sharpoon City, his steps silent yet purposeful. As if sensing his arrival, assassins emerged from the shadows, weapons drawn, ready to strike. Without hesitation, Grimar engaged them, utilizing his array of deadly tools to dispatch them one by one. The streets ran red as his unmatched skill left a trail of bodies in his wake.
Days turned into nights as Grimar moved like a ghost through the city's dark alleys. Hidden in the shadows, he pursued the leaders of the higher-ups, armed with the magic gun. He fires a silver bullet into a leader, with their magic was instantly nullified, rendering them defenseless. Grimar wasted no time, swiftly ending their live with his unparalleled assassin techniques.
Occasionally, more powerful magic-wielding assassins confronted him. In those moments, Grimar fired his silver bullets into them and made a calculated retreat. He knew they would never return, as their magic—stripped away by the enchanted bullets—was gone forever.
Rumors spread quickly throughout Sharpoon City, whispering the tale of a shadowy figure known only as the "Magic Slayer." Fear and uncertainty gripped the city as years passed, and Grimar continued his campaign. One by one, the leaders of the higher-ups are shot by these silver bullets. Even Baso, one of their most formidable figures. Grimar's methods remained the same—strike with precision and retreat before the army of assassins could overwhelm him, knowing that the rest of the leaders are not in control anymore, being magicless.
Eventually, Grimar makes his way back to G-City, where he entered a small shop. Without a word, he tipped the shopkeeper with a bag brimming with gold. The shopkeeper nodded in understanding and disappeared into the back room. There, a golden elevator awaited. The shopkeeper stepped inside and descended, offering the bag to Heimer in his underground lab.
Heimer examined the bag of gold with a knowing smirk. "Hmm… he's finally done it," he muttered. Without further comment, he turned back to his work, continuing his mysterious research.
Meanwhile, Grimar returned to Sharpoon City, prepared for what he believed would be his final stand against the higher-ups. As he approached the towering headquarters, he heard the unmistakable sounds of chaos from within—screams, shouts, and the clash of steel echoed from behind the massive doors.
Suddenly, the ground trembled as violent crashes reverberated throughout the city. Grimar froze, his sharp instincts kicking in as confusion clouded his mind. Peering down the street, his eyes widened at the sight of hordes of zombies pouring into the streets, chasing terrified civilians.
The building's grand doors burst open, revealing assassins spilling out into the chaos, their weapons drawn as they fought against the relentless horde of the undead.
Grimar clenched his fists, his mind racing. Whatever this was, it wasn't part of the plan. He retreated to the rooftop of a nearby building, where he stood overlooking the city. The view was one of pure pandemonium—fires burning, zombies swarming, and survivors desperately fleeing. Sharpoon City was engulfed in chaos, and for the first time in years, Grimar found himself uncertain of what came next.
Nhia closed Grimar's journal and set it aside as he stood from his bed. A newfound clarity reflected in his eyes. "I finally understand now," he muttered to himself before heading to the adjacent room.
There, Grimar was busy preparing his tools, his movements precise and practiced. Nhia leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment before speaking. "So, it was you all along, back then, with the pearl. I get it now... You put the pearls in Heimer and me because we're hard to kill. We were surrounded by powerful people, and that made us the perfect unkillable targets."
Grimar glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Nhia continued, "You planned this so you could focus on stopping the higher-ups. Even if you couldn't kill them outright, as long as you hit them with a silver bullet, they'd be powerless without their magic."
Grimar chuckled softly. "You've already read all of it, haven't you? Hmm, you read fast."
"Yeah, I do," Nhia replied with a shrug. "And, uh... I think you're going to need my help. You know, since you're getting old."
Grimar raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Old? I'm only 62. I'll be fine. Besides, having you in my custody is already a big enough asset."
Nhia crossed his arms, his tone light but curious. "So, after the world ended, what were you doing all this time?"
Grimar's expression grew serious. "Surviving," he answered simply. "And continuing the plan. But it's become much harder now. The leaders are in hiding—they won't even step out of their sanctuaries. That's where you come in."
Nhia tilted his head, intrigued. "Have you ever used those bullets on A-Star zombies? Or should I say... the stronger ones?"
Grimar nodded, resting his hand on the magic gun. "Yeah, I've taken down more than a dozen of those powerful zombies. But now, I've only got one silver bullet left." He paused, a sly grin forming on his face. "And do you know what happens when I shoot someone who's already under this gun's magic with another silver bullet?"
Nhia blinked, leaning forward slightly. "What happens?"
"They go boom," Grimar said with a smirk, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
Grimar adjusted the tools on his belt and glanced at Nhia with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, kid. Everything's going to end soon," he said confidently. "You won't have to worry about assassins coming after you anymore. Just stick to the plan, and everything will work out."
Nhia furrowed his brow, confused. "Uh... what plan?"
Without a word, Grimar pointed toward the wall. Nhia's gaze followed his hand to a large sheet of paper pinned there, filled with tightly packed writing and diagrams.
"That plan," Grimar said simply.
Nhia stepped closer, his curiosity piqued. He leaned in, scanning the intricate details carefully. It was a lot to take in—a complex strategy that clearly had years of thought and experience behind it.
As Nhia took his time reading, Grimar gathers up the many big batteries he has.
Grimar carefully lifted the large batteries and slotted them into a towering machine. A low hum filled the room as the machine roared to life, emitting streams of glowing digital pixels that danced across the air.
A satisfied smile crept across Grimar's face as he stepped back, watching the machine begin its work. "Yeah, close enough," he muttered to himself. His gaze hardened, and his voice dropped to a determined tone. "Time to avenge your death, Charlie."