The other bandits were on their way to the location with Jin, Miss akane and Roku. They didn't want Mousa doing something reckless so they decided to go to the warehouse as well.
Miss Akane sat between Roku and Jin at the back of the van. Her hands tightly gripping the edge of her seat. She was trying to appear calm, but her pale face betrayed her inner turmoil. "Are we sure about this?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "I mean... Mousa might not want us to interfere."
"We're not interfering," Jun said firmly, her tone sharp as she glanced at Miss Akane through the rearview mirror. "We're backing him up. Whether he likes it or not, he can't take on Satoshi alone."
Jin, a wiry man with sharp eyes and an aura of quiet confidence, leaned forward slightly. "Mousa called me in because he knew this wouldn't be easy. If it comes down to it, we'll be ready to help." His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of anticipation.
Roku nodded, adjusting the strap of his bag. "I owe it to Mousa and everyone we lost. I'm not sitting on the sidelines while that man fights for us."
Toma, securing a knife to his belt, looked over at Kazuya. "What do you think, Kazuya? You've been quiet this whole time."
Kazuya's gaze shifted to Toma, then back out the window. "Oh.. I really don't know."
Toma gave him a skeptical look before Jun chimed in."I think Mousa's stubborn, but we all know why. He blames himself for what happened. That's why we're here—not to save him, but to make sure he doesn't get himself killed trying to atone."
A brief silence filled the van as the words sank in. Miss Akane, clutching her pendant, whispered softly, "Mousa took us in when no one else would. He gave us a family... a home. If we lose him too..." Her voice trailed off, and Roku placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Jun's voice broke through the silence, firm and resolute. "We're not losing anyone else today. Not Mousa, not any of us."
The road ahead stretched into darkness, the faint glow of the city in the distance. The tension in the van was palpable, but so was the resolve. They weren't just heading to a fight; they were heading to protect the last remnants of the family Mousa had built.
As the abandoned warehouse loomed closer, the bandits prepared themselves. They didn't know exactly what awaited them, but they knew one thing for sure: they wouldn't let Mousa face it alone.
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The warehouse echoed with the sounds of heavy footsteps and the clash of steel against energy. Mousa and Agent Satoshi faced off in the vast, dimly lit space, the air between them charged with tension. The golden spears that Satoshi conjured hovered around him like a deadly halo, their tips glinting ominously in the flickering light.
Mousa tightened his grip on his axe, his muscles coiled like springs. His eyes burned with fury, but his breathing was steady. He couldn't afford to let his emotions cloud his focus. "You destroyed everything," he growled. "You took the lives of people I swore to protect. You'll pay for it."
Satoshi smirked, his demeanor calm, almost bored. "You speak of protection, yet you surround yourself with outcasts—ticking time bombs. You're a fool, Mousa. They were liabilities, nothing more."
With a roar, Mousa lunged forward, swinging his axe in a powerful arc. Satoshi sidestepped effortlessly, the golden spears around him shifting in perfect synchronization. One spear shot toward Mousa, but he deflected it with a precise strike of his axe, the clash reverberating through the room.
"You think this is justice?" Mousa snarled, pressing his attack with relentless swings, each strike faster and more aggressive. "Those people weren't a threat to anyone. They just wanted to live!"
Satoshi blocked with a flick of his wrist, conjuring a golden shield that absorbed the blow. "Weak or strong, it doesn't matter. Outcasts are dangerous by nature. It's better to eliminate them all before they become a problem."
The words ignited something deeper in Mousa. With a burst of strength, he forced Satoshi to retreat, his strikes coming faster, more unpredictable. For a moment, it seemed like Mousa might gain the upper hand. His axe hummed through the air, smashing into the floor and walls, leaving deep gouges wherever it struck.
But Satoshi's smirk didn't falter. "Impressive," he admitted, raising a hand. "But predictable."
He snapped his fingers, and dozens of golden spears materialized around him, spinning in a deadly formation. With a wave of his hand, they shot toward Mousa in a blinding barrage.
Mousa's reflexes kicked in, and he moved with astonishing agility for his size, dodging and deflecting as best he could. Sparks flew as his axe met the spears, but the sheer number overwhelmed him, making him retreat.
"You're out of your league," Satoshi taunted, closing the distance with deliberate steps. "You rely on brute strength, but that won't save you."
Mousa's breathing was ragged but his resolve unshaken. "Maybe not. But it's enough to take you down."
With a roar, he surged forward again, this time unleashing a flurry of wind attacks,
Satoshi was forced to focus, his composure wavering as Mousa's relentless assault pushed him back.
"You talk too much," Mousa said through gritted teeth, slamming his axe into the ground and sending a shockwave that destabilized Satoshi's footing. Seizing the moment, Mousa swung with all his might, the blade of his axe slicing toward Satoshi's midsection.
At the last second, Satoshi conjured another golden shield, the impact sending a shockwave through the warehouse. The force blew debris into the air, momentarily obscuring both fighters.
When the dust settled, Satoshi stood unharmed, his expression darker now. "Enough playing," he muttered. His aura flared, and the golden spears multiplied, surrounding Mousa entirely.
Mousa tightened his grip on the axe, his jaw set. He knew this fight wasn't going to be easy—but he had no intention of losing.
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The van rolled to a stop just outside the large, dilapidated warehouse. The sound of tires crunching gravel echoed through the still night air. As the doors of the van opened, the bandits—Jun, Shota, Toma, and Kazuya—stepped out, their faces set in grim determination.
Miss Akane, Jin, and Roku, who had accompanied them, quickly assessed the scene. The warehouse loomed in front of them, its broken windows and rusted doors hinting at the decay within. Despite the silence, the tension in the air was palpable, and they knew they were walking straight into danger.
Miss Akane turned to the others, her voice calm but firm. "You all go ahead," she said, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "We'll stay back and investigate the warehouse to make sure there's no more danger lurking around. It's better to be cautious."
Jin nodded in agreement, his hand resting on the hilt of a dagger tucked into his belt. "We'll keep an eye out. You'll need to focus on the fight ahead, and we'll ensure nothing else comes from behind."
Jun, standing at the forefront of the group, gave them a skeptical glance. "Are you sure you'll be alright? It's too dangerous to split up now."
Miss Akane gave a reassuring smile, though there was a sharpness to her eyes that belied her calm demeanor. "We're more than capable, Jun. You've got a bigger battle to focus on. We'll make sure you don't have to worry about anything from behind."
Roku stepped forward, his gaze steady and unflinching. "We'll handle it. Go on and help Mousa already."
Toma, standing next to Jun, gave her a small nudge. "They're right. They can hamdle themselves."
Jun hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Miss Akane, Jin, and Roku, but ultimately, she nodded, a determined resolve settling in her chest. "Alright," she said, her voice steady. "Just stay close to each other and be careful."
With that, the bandits began to make their way towards the entrance of the warehouse, while Miss Akane, Jin, and Roku moved to the sides, positioning themselves to cover the perimeter.