Hah… Our son is quite the piece of work.
He was similar to you. A hothead who always tried to look at the brighter side of stuff.
…Despite being such a downer.
The stupid kid even thought his Sub Class was an Assassin. What a dreamer he was.
Lex wasn't smart enough to be an Assassin.
He relied too much on Illusionary Step and thought too highly of his little pea-brain.
The only good thing about him was that he knew when to back down and push on.
Disturbingly so…
I once told him: "You can be a Fighter."
But he shook his head and said that users of bootleg Internal Qi like us shouldn't 'fight'.
Even though he knew I was no less than a normal Fighter, he said that it was just me.
That I was talented.
But if I was a talent like that, then wouldn't my son have inherited some of that strength?
Couldn't he reach my level?
Apparently, no. He insists that he's better as a team player… despite being a damn outcast!
Making no effort in making any friends.
It was surprising that he brought one today.
Maybe the disaster changed him. He seems more like you these days. He's stronger than he believes, but won't trust me. Don't trust the training we had and is scared of dying.
Not wanting to suffer consequences.
…Maybe it's my fault.
He grew up thinking of me as some kind of unreachable goal. Not a checkpoint he had to get to and surpass one day. Even though he's just as talented as everyone else at school.
No strong Innate Gift? Not being blessed with Stigmata Gifts? Being just a 'Hero'?
Well… Maybe that last one was a crutch.
Our son was the worst at being heroic.
He was too emotional, and reality wouldn't reward punks too sunken into their feelings.
This was how life worked.
As unfair as it is, real 'Heroes' were not people who could always show up on time.
They are always late.
These wannabe heroes didn't even know what made a real 'Hero'. They thought that simply showing up and fighting made them saviours… but they were wrong.
These kids were simply protectors of the peace. They were no different from soldiers and the police force. Maybe they'd start off straight. Maybe they were kind.
I knew many people just like that.
Those who dreamed of heroics and had the strength to carry out their dreams.
And what did they turn into in the end?
Corrupt protectors of a law made solely by one man. He crippled their heroism.
Turning them into cogs.
Even if evil was to take place within the walls of Faustus City, it wouldn't be questioned at all. This man, the 'Hero of the People', had subjugated their once human hearts.
He knew what made people desire hope.
If someone like that got ahold of our cowardly son, I dare not think of what would result.
I can only hope that he realises just how amazing he really is. Not disregard his efforts.
That way, I would one day stop worrying about whether he'd die in an accident or not.
Please just become a Fighter.
…..
….
…
..
.
Earlier, before we ran into our next opponent, Ryan was on topic about my father.
"What was he like when he was active?" I heard a question not many would ask.
Ryan had a sparkle in his eyes when bringing up the new person he admired.
Maybe it was the way dad held himself.
He wasn't that serious.
Even in the face of overwhelming despair, he had this steel resolve to fight back.
Take down the stars with his hand.
I described him in the simplest words:
"Unbeatable." Seeing how he could continue to fight even after mom died, I was even more convinced. Our car alone filled the gap losing his powers had left.
Despite being physically weaker, I was sure Dad would be able to beat me fairly.
He was THAT strong.
"…I guess all sons say that about their parent." Ryan didn't take me seriously.
It looked like he believed I was inflating and exaggerating this out of proportion.
"You think the same about yours?"
"Mine is a little harder to measure. Like I said before, he was great in his heyday. Didn't change much when I grew up." Ryan gnashed his teeth and spoke about it.
It looked like there was no good feelings he could unearth for his father. Complaining:
"He was a jerk!" He kept on rambling endlessly while we were searching for zombies to fight. The higher floors of the mall only having one or two here and there.
Not much of a challenge.
We were aiming to make the mall empty, but the speed they were being clear felt off.
It was too abnormal.
But I couldn't focus on it since Ryan's way of bonding with someone was attacking his dad.
I heard a lot from him about petty arguments.
Apparently, his father's personality was the worst. It was immature and unkind.
He was saying how he never saw his father in a sober state of mind. The guy was a drunk.
And he'd never stop being in that state.
"Then how would you describe him in one word?" I asked myself about his thoughts.
"…Invincible." Ryan made me roll my eyes at such an answer. He really meant it.
Children DID see their dads as the best.
If there was one thing we both felt the same about, it'd be how powerful our fathers were.
But that was it.
I couldn't quite connect with him right now. It had nothing to do with him or anything.
My sociability was just bad.
When I wanted to say something in return, it felt like the words just wouldn't come out.
How does one do this 'small talk' thing again?
Do we talk about weather?
No, there's only ceiling above. I might look crazy if I started talking nonsense to him.
It was around the time I was thinking about things to say that he started to annoy me.
My distracted mind caused me to hit a door.
Really embarrassing…
I broke that door, but it didn't save me from being looked at like an idiot by my 'leader'.
This guy… He just wants a beating.
I focused on the fact there was literally zero zombies this time, which put me on red alert.
Something was definitely wrong!
But before we could pull out, I spotted a golden haired person wearing a weird outfit.
He looked like a barbarian.
An exposed chest and rags covering him like he'd just got out of a forest. Too conspicuous.
Just who was he?
"Heroes, your enemy is here." He outed himself out without trying to deceive us.
Letting out the miasma within his body.
"Huh?" He suddenly looked surprised when the two of us showed no signs of illness.
Only looking at him threateningly.
We both had the same thought in our heads.
'Intelligent zombie…' They were something I was told about and that Ryan briefed on.
But he still chose to step forward.
"We know about your condition. I don't plan to be your enemy if you are on our side." Ryan tried to reason, which was something I was taught was useless against these zombies.
Intelligent or not, they were still all undead.
Their miasma would hurt people even if they stood still. Like walking radioactive waste.
That's how I saw them.
That's how the world saw these people.
"There's someone behind you who doesn't seem to agree." The monster looked at me.
It made Ryan turn briefly.
Looking at me with disappointment, but not blaming me due to circumstances around us.
I looked at the opponent and spoke: "My mom died recently. The disaster took her."
"And you hate zombies because of that?"
"Pretty much."
"That's fair." The intelligent zombie didn't seem to blame me or try to misguide us.
He was simply pointing facts.
It felt really strange.
Why was he acting… 'chivalrous'?
I didn't understand what he was doing.
"Well, I decline your efforts. I'm set on killing everyone left in this city. If you don't kill me, I'll kill you instead. It's as simple as that." Rather than feeling fear, the monster became more full of fighting spirit when looking towards us.
He brought out a stereotypical wooden club.
It appeared heavy and indestructible.
The line was drawn, and we no longer had to worry about the moral implications of fighting.
Almost like we were done a favour here.
It looked like we all accepted the facts.
"I'll deal with this." Ryan spoke while extending his hands to reach into the air.
An armament appeared on each side. There was a black shield and earthen brown baton.
Immediately after they appeared, he quickly smacked them together as if to combine them. They changed into their magical properties and intertwined around each other.
Becoming a dark brown bat.
I could infer from this information that he had the Innate Gift of summoning and fusing weapons. Judging from their appearance and how he carried seven swords before, it looked like he was hiding at least five more weapons.
I knew from experience. He was definitely a single target expert like Betty and Bella.
I'd best leave battle this to him.
Just as I was about to step behind him to cover his flank, the Dark Muse looked at me.
"Meet my 'Gravel Dusk'. If you want to be sent to the afterlife, I'll send you off." Although Ryan said that, the intelligent zombie kept looking at me. His intentions being clear.
But I wouldn't be so easy to pick off…
"I challenge you to duel. The winner takes the loser's life." He spoke towards me stupidly.
Did he think I'd accept?
"Yeah, sure." I joked, then got ready to follow Ryan into battle. This wasn't some contest.
It was only after seeing the monster's smile did I realise my mistake. That wasn't an offer.
My words were too careless!
Ryan, who was standing in front of me, was suddenly pushed aside by a invisible force.
"Lex!" My team leader tried to attack the barbarian that was jumping down to strike us.
Gravel Dusk wasn't thrown. Instead, Ryan used his magic to stamp down. Every time he did, a stone orb the size of a soccer ball would be moulded from the ground and ejected up.
Getting in the position to be launched at the opponent using Gravel Dusk. Hitting cleanly.
The stone projectiles had a good aim.
But somehow, they seemed to swerve around the barbarian the moment it got too close.
A club smashed down towards my skull.
DAMN!
I quickly used my footwork to dodge. Trying to disrupt his flow by using my Illusionary Step.
Since Ryan was still in my domain's reach, I tried to switch us around for a tactical retreat.
My efforts were in vain.
The barbarian literally sniffed out my location while making clear nasal sounds like a dog.
He immediately seized me.
Damn. This must be his Innate Gift. I was an idiot for speaking uselessly and responding.
He quickly approached me.
I instinctively fought back. My left arm loading a bullet, and my right arm threw a 'Blank'.
A straight punch fuelled by ignited Red Wind.
CLANG.
His palm deflected the blow. Using the very orthodox 'Academy Style' I was familiar with.
So he really WAS from St Martha!
Maybe because of becoming a Dark Muse, it looked like he was able to access 'magic reinforcement'. A superpower much more complete than using Harden or other tricks.
I could tell that the miasma was boosting his senses and physicality. It was beyond me.
He was a real 'Fighter'.
I couldn't tell what Ryan was doing anymore.
My mind concentrated on the exchanges I had with the barbarian. It was really close.
Musket Style versus Academy Style.
A competition between our skills.
The contest was regarding our proficiency in close combat, which I wasn't bad at.
My unique Musket Style was born from a mix from the 'Academy Style' taught by our school and the remnants of my father's 'Bullet Style'. It made full use of my Cartridge Loads.
Unlike him, I couldn't primarily use 'Bullets' nor even throw anything beyond a Blank.
The only thing I could do was use my bent arms in the strengthened Cartridge Load position like a weapon. Using my elbows and fists to make incredible defence my offence.
Each time the barbarian punched, my elbow would intercept and meet fingers with joint.
Causing crackling sounds from having his fist colliding with a tougher body reinforcement.
Even if he was at the level of 'Reinforcement' right now, which was higher than Hardening like me, I was confident my Cartridge Load was unbreakable. Now, I needed to retreat.
My footsteps moved backwards.
However, he continued to pursue regardless of what would happen when charging at me.
Unlike a mere brute, he started to show the flexibility of our modern mixed martial arts.
The versatility of the school's 'Academy Style' was put on full display by the zombie.
"Can you handle this?" The blonde barbarian spoke while displaying strength and speed.
,..I knew this Stigmata Gift.
It was unique to the Fighter Class. The name of this Gift was written as 'Peak Constitution'.
The power was simple.
It allowed a person to quickly reach the peak of their physical development with training.
Though this sounded pretty standard compared to others, this wasn't something that only applied to the body. The mind would also reach peak performance with training.
It was like always having the body in the state of Hardening using the Limiter's function.
Along with the other effects.
It was likely why he could sense me even though my Illusionary Step was active.
Fighters were the bane of Assassins.
The golden dreadlocked monster proved this by extending his hands to grab my arms.
Using grappling, which was the greatest weakness of anyone using Hardening.
He stopped me in my tracks in pinned me to a wall. My back hurt from the tremendous force.
The impact made me nauseous.
"What now?" The zombie looked at me while displaying a viciousness in his glowing eyes.
His white teeth bared at my face.
"This." I answered with my trump cards in any sticky situation. 'Blanks' had been fired.
Two of them smacked away the hands grabbing my forearms. I followed by striking his kneecap with a Blank low kick. A trail of apocalyptic flames enhancing my strength.
I was on the offensive.
But he saw through me.
"Want to run away?" He didn't step back and show too much caution at my sudden attacks. I could tell from his eyes that he'd figured out these cards were only temporary.
He managed to endure my Blanks by using every possible technique to mitigate damage.
Lifting his leg when I struck low, and raising his arms to defend against any strike his way.
He dismantled my offensive.
It wasn't the techniques of a predator, but the stable and sound judgement of a hunter.
He fought too much like a human.
The moment I ran out of bullets, he grabbed my forearms again. This time looking cocky.
"If you don't stay tough like now, I'll rip your arms off." He whispered into my ear.
It kept me from releasing the Cartridge Load.
BANG.
A knee slipped past my defences and struck my chest. My face twisted in pain.
A part of me almost released the Hardening of my arms, but my reflexes stopped me.
I instinctively sensed the danger to my arms if I softened up, but this situation wasn't good.
He was using Muay Thai.
Using his knees to mangle my ribs.
The power of my Limiter's function to Harden wasn't as strong as his 'Miasma Reinforcement'. He had me in checkmate. I was a fish laid down on the chopping table.
"I had a family too. Never met my mom, but my dad and sister always took care of me." It was at this point he started to say words I'd been trying to ignore. I unconsciously looked away. Unable to make eye contact with him.
"…" My only response to him was silence.
"They turned into Dark Muses. If I don't kill you, then who's going to protect them? Aren't you a damn 'Hero'? Do you think killing is the same as saving us?" The more he spoke, the more guilt overwhelmed me in my silence.
"…" I couldn't answer him.
"Tell me. Speak up!" A knee struck my chest.
"…" My face had twisted, and tears started flowing from my eyes… but I didn't speak.
"TELL ME!" He struck me again and again to push me for an answer that I didn't have.
My emotions ran wild.
I couldn't pretend there was no sympathy in my heart towards him, but what could I do?
Make a false promise? Vow that I'd try to protect his sibling and father in this situation?
I couldn't. Realistically, I couldn't.
It's not that I didn't want to. Allah ta'ala knows I was trying my best to think of an answer.
But I had nothing.
It'd be better if he continued his evil villain charade so I didn't have to deal with this.
He made things more complicated than they had to be, and I was too stupid to ignore him.
Actually serious about thinking up an answer.
A response that could truly satisfy him.
However, it looked like this crazy hooligan would kill me before I could say anything.
At least two of my ribs had cracked.
I was out of commission. Barely able to stand straight as he continued to strike my body.
My organs were breaking down. Blood was being puked from the force of the strikes.
I was dying too.
It was at that point a voice had saved me.
"I challenge you to duel!" These words were immediately enforced by that Innate Gift.
A supernatural power separated me from the barbarian. I struck the ground powerlessly.
Painfully holding my cracked ribs.
My eyes barely looked up to see Ryan was watching with red eyes. Feeling a lot of guilt.
"You scum…!" He was livid over this.
An expression I found both scary and a little heartwarming. To think he cared about me.
I thought it was a gimmick at first, but were we really 'friends'? His attitude said we were.
So it was alright to think so, right?
Maybe I didn't have an answer right now, but I'll hand off responsibility until I've found one.
I'll believe in Ryan.
See, Dad. I'm not an antisocial idiot. I can do this too. Now, I just need a little bit of rest.
Will think… more… maybe… later…