The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the city as the bandits gathered in their makeshift base. The room was dimly lit, the shadows stretching long across the floor. Mousa stood at the center, his expression serious as he called everyone together.
"All right, listen up," Mousa began, his voice firm. "We've got a new mission tonight. There's a group of delinquents causing trouble on the streets, terrorizing the neighborhood. We're going to teach them a lesson they won't forget."
The bandits—Jun, Shota, Toma, and Kazuya—listened intently, their eyes on Mousa. The atmosphere in the room was tense but focused, everyone ready for action. But as Kazuya listened, a strange feeling of unease began to creep into his mind. Something about this mission didn't sit right with him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why.
Mousa continued, outlining the plan. "These guys aren't anything special, just a bunch of punks with more ego than brains. But we can't let them keep causing trouble in our territory. We're going to hit them hard and fast, show them that this isn't a playground."
Jun cracked her knuckles, a smirk playing on her lips. "Sounds like fun. I've been itching for a good fight."
Shota nodded silently, his expression calm but determined. Toma grinned, his excitement barely contained. "Let's go kick some ass," he said, his voice full of anticipation.
Kazuya forced a smile, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling gnawing at him. "Right," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. He didn't want to be the one to bring down the mood, so he kept his concerns to himself.
"Let's move out," Mousa ordered, leading the way as they all geared up and headed out into the night.
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The streets were quiet as the bandits approached the location Mousa had mentioned. The city's usual hustle and bustle had died down, leaving only the faint hum of distant traffic and the occasional bark of a stray dog. The air was cool, a slight breeze ruffling their clothes as they walked with purpose.
When they arrived, they found the delinquents loitering in a dimly lit alleyway, their loud laughter and crude jokes echoing off the walls. There were about a dozen of them, young men with cocky grins and a swagger that spoke of overconfidence.
Mousa stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. "All right, boys," he called out, his voice cutting through the noise. "Party's over."
The delinquents turned, their expressions shifting from amusement to irritation. One of them, a tall guy with a shaved head and a sneer plastered on his face, stepped forward. "Who the hell are you?"
"We're the ones who are going to teach you some manners," Jun replied, her tone dripping with disdain.
The tall guy scoffed. "Oh yeah? You and what army?"
Jun's smirk widened as she glanced at Mousa, Shota, and Toma. "This one."
Without another word, the bandits sprang into action. Jun was the first to strike, moving with incredible speed as she landed a solid punch to the tall guy's jaw, sending him stumbling back. Her gloves, which increased her strength with every hit, made her attacks devastatingly powerful. She followed up with a series of rapid blows, each one connecting with precision.
Mousa, always preferring hand-to-hand combat despite the axe on his back, took on two of the delinquents at once. His movements were fluid, his strikes calculated and powerful. He easily overpowered them, his fists a blur as he dodged their clumsy attempts to fight back.
Shota, the silent but deadly boxer, was a force to be reckoned with. His fists moved with lightning speed, each punch landing with bone-crunching force. He ducked and weaved, avoiding the delinquents' wild swings with ease before delivering knockout blows that sent them crashing to the ground.
Toma was no less impressive, using his agility and quick reflexes to outmaneuver his opponents. He darted in and out, landing strikes before they could even react. His grin never left his face as he took down one delinquent after another, clearly enjoying the fight.
Kazuya, however, hung back, watching the scene unfold with a wary expression. The unease he'd felt earlier hadn't gone away; in fact, it had only intensified. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that this fight wasn't as straightforward as it seemed.
He watched as his comrades dismantled the delinquents with ease, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. But there was nothing out of the ordinary, just a group of street thugs getting their just deserts. And yet, Kazuya couldn't relax. His instincts were screaming at him that something wasn't right.
As the last of the delinquents hit the ground, groaning in pain, Mousa turned to Kazuya, who was still standing on the sidelines. "Kazuya," Mousa called out, "you okay? You didn't even lift a finger."
Kazuya hesitated, forcing a smile as he nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine… just thought you guys had it covered."
Mousa studied him for a moment, clearly sensing something was off, but he didn't press the issue. "All right. Let's wrap this up and get out of here."
The night air was thick with the aftermath of their skirmish, but the bandits were already starting to relax. But then Mousa's phone rang, he glanced at the screen, seeing Miss Akane's name, and quickly answered it.
"Miss Akane, everything alright?" he asked, putting the call on loudspeaker.
"Mousa! You need to come back to the shelter, quickly!" Miss Akane's voice was frantic, barely audible over the chaotic noises in the background. The sounds of explosions, crumbling structures, and distant screams echoed through the speaker, sending a jolt of alarm through the group.
Mousa's face tightened with worry. "What's happening? What are those noises?" he demanded.
But before Miss Akane could respond, the line went dead, leaving only silence in its wake.
For a split second, Mousa stood frozen, his mind racing. Then, without a word, he bolted, his body moving with a speed that seemed almost inhuman. The others didn't need any instructions—they immediately took off after him, their expressions grim.
Kazuya was taken aback and his heart pounded as he realized the situation. he ran and tried to keep up, but the others were moving too fast.
Mousa's determination was palpable, his worry for the shelter and its inhabitants fueling his every step. Jun, Shota, and Toma followed closely behind, their focus entirely on getting back home as fast as possible.