Mike lay on his bed, staring out the window. On the streets of Gowntown, Misa was being trained by Mars, effortlessly dodging and countering his attacks.
Damn it, she's getting stronger while I just rot here. When the hell will my leg heal? This isn't what I signed up for.
Beside him, Mr. Popo sat silently, observing him with an unreadable expression.
"It seems like you're in love with Misa," Mr. Popo finally said.
Mike scoffed. "Who would love that useless, ugly brat?"
Mr. Popo's eyes widened in exaggerated disbelief. "HUHHH? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! SHE'S PERFECT FOR YOU."
Before Mike could retort, dark clouds suddenly gathered above Gowntown. The sky turned ominous, and an unnatural chill spread through the air.
Misa stopped mid-training, gripping her sword tighter. "That's odd."
Mars' expression darkened. "Not now..."
Without warning, Mike sensed another presence in the room. He turned his head just in time to see a man standing over Mr. Popo's lifeless body. Blood pooled around the old man, soaking into the wooden floorboards.
Mike's breath hitched. "Who the hell are you?"
The man smirked, holding a massive sword over his shoulder. "You can call me Maximus Gladius, the greatest swordsman in Hell. I've come to challenge you to a duel. You're the new guy in Controlium, right?"
Mike's fists clenched. "Yeah. What are you gonna do about it?"
Something in his body felt different. His legs—his supposedly injured legs—were fine. He could stand. What the hell? Did he heal me?
Gladius' smirk widened. "Kill you."
Without hesitation, Gladius lunged forward, his sword swinging with monstrous speed. Instinctively, Mike raised his hand—and from the air, a sword materialized in his grip. Their blades clashed, sending shockwaves through the house. The walls trembled, and with a deafening crack, the entire building collapsed around them.
The sky opened up, rain pouring heavily over the wreckage.
From the distance, Mars turned in alarm. "That's bad. Misa, go and—"
He stopped.
Misa's body lay before him, brutally cut into pieces. Blood soaked the ground. Mars' breath caught in his throat, his face contorted in horror.
Back in the ruins of the house, Gladius laughed. "Is that all you've got, Mike? Why the hell did Mars pick you to protect Controlium? You're weak."
Mike gritted his teeth. "You talk too much."
Gladius leapt, bringing his sword down in a brutal arc. Mike barely raised his blade in time, blocking the strike, but the force sent him skidding back. His shoulder throbbed—he realized too late that Gladius had managed to cut deep into his flesh.
"Damn! That was close."
Before he could recover, Gladius swung again. This time, the blade slashed across Mike's neck. Pain exploded through him as he collapsed to the ground, his vision blurring.
Gladius loomed over him, raising his sword for the final strike.
"Such a weakling," he said with a sneer. "Now, it's over. You'll die here."