(Five years later)
Now nineteen, Cyrus groaned in annoyance, lying in his bed drenched in sweat from the recurring nightmare that had plagued him for years.
"He really got the better of me then," he muttered, recalling how the shadowy figure had countered his roundhouse kick with a swift uppercut, breaking his jaw.
He glanced around his blurry room before donning his thick-rimmed glasses, bringing everything into focus.
Excited barking filled his ears as the bedroom door creaked open and a small German Shepherd puppy with coal-black fur, dark red eyes, and three heads bounded onto the bed, cuddling up to its owner.
"Hey Reggie, you're up early," he chuckled, as the puppy's left head barked joyfully, the middle one continued snoring, and the right one playfully nibbled at his fingers. "Hungry, huh? Go wake the others, so we can all have breakfast, okay?"
Reggie's eyes widened as the two outer heads smacked the middle one awake before he darted from the room amid a crashing sound.
Now fully awake, Cyrus made his way to the bathroom and splashed his face with ice-cold tap water.
Peering into the mirror, he saw his own reflection staring back, along with a shadowy creature's arm piercing through his chest, causing his eyes to bulge in shock. He stumbled backward, hitting his head against the wall.
Wincing in pain and threading his fingers through his thick afro, he opened his eyes to find the shadowy arm had vanished and his body was uharmed.
"Okay, that's new?" he questioned, attempting to calm his racing heartbeat with a very long soothing shower.
Once done he dressed in a simple grey hoodie with a stitched red frown, baggy black trousers, tanned steel-toed boots, and his necklace.
As he walked toward the small kitchen, the aroma of breakfast greeted him.
He saw his roommate Nina placing slices of buttered toast onto a large plate. He noticed her attire: a black jumpsuit with the top buttons undone, allowing it to drape over her blue jumper, paired with white trainers, sleek black goggles, and an apron marked with stains of dried food.
"Take a seat, Cy. You need to eat something instead of always rushing off to work," she said with a playful sigh, beginning to make scrambled eggs with vegetables.
"What took you so long? She almost burned down the house," a chuckling voice said, drawing his attention to Scott, who was sipping coffee, clad in a black three-piece suit and tan dark brown shoes.
"I needed a longer shower. Besides, I was hoping for leftover chinese because battling monsters while fighting food poisoning isn't the difficulty spike I was looking for," Cyrus sighed, recalling that dreadful experience as he sat at the table.
"It only happened six times, and I passed my cooking lessons with flying colors. So when you do kick the bucket, you can't list me as your cause of death," Nina retorted, as one of her snakes neatly placed well-cooked bacon on the table, eliciting snickers from the others.
"Well, hopefully, it's tasty enough that Jazzy decides to stay and actually joins us for the meal," Scott laughed, while Reggie dragged his large bowl over to the table legs.
"That's not the reason, trust me; that girl can eat anything," Nina said as she finished with the eggs and tossed her apron aside. "I caught her last week ranting about the Hammer Guild claiming the docks as their territory."
"I don't know why she's complaining; she despises all aquatic life," Cyrus remarked with a smirk, filling Reggie's dog bowls with spicy meat while imagining Jazzy battling a giant fish. "Besides, it's a clever plan since water doors are difficult to access, let alone complete."
"So that explains why the apartment reeked of fish for weeks," Scott laughed, his game pausing from a notification, his expression turning serious. "Doc sent a text; we can visit mom and dad."
"Finally, I can give them the gifts I know they'll adore," Nina said, smiling as her snakes hissed in delight.
"Yeah, but only for a few hours, so let's meet at the hospital after work," Scott suggested, closing his game and reviewing a detailed schedule. "I need to reschedule some meetings, see you guys later."
He tossed his plate into the sink and lavished Reggie with pats.
"Hope you find something intriguing, sis, and try not to die, bro," he said, delivering a hearty slap to their backs before departing.
"Gamer boy left his suitcase; I'll bring it to him during his break. See you later, Cy," she said, hugging him quickly before dashing off with their bags.
Scott's suitcase bore an EPA logo, while her duffle bag was adorned with the FFH emblem.
"The castle is yours; don't break anything," Cyrus chuckled, petting his puppy who barked joyfully and nodded to each other before scampering off as a series of loud crashes quickly rang out.
Cyrus shook his head, checking the text from the league about his quota for today: two hundred bronze doors.
"An easy amount; hopefully, something exciting happens," he muttered, grabbing his Buck 110 knife and GSL bronze dog tags. After locking up, he mounted his his dirt bike and made his way to the nearest door while hover cars zoomed above.
(200th Bronze Door location-Muscle King Gym)
Cyrus gently positioned a thin goblin within a grey body bag. The runes adorning the bag shone a vivid green, then constricted around the body, causing the bag to levitate.
"So, I'm going to guess you're upset because nothing interesting happened today, kid?" a gruff, deep voice inquired through the headset Cyrus was wearing.
"And what gave it away?" He replied while wiping a thick coating of blood of his weapon.
"The fact that a couple goblins tried to escape before you dragged them back in kicking and screaming" A deep chuckle came from the headset "I told you kid with this job not every door is gonna be amazing its gonna be nice and simple"
"I know but it seems like every door is like that these days" Cyrus let out an annoyed sigh "All these doors was nothing but goblins, wolves and fucking slimes!"
"Perhaps you're too strong for your rank. Have you received a promotion letter yet?" That one question drained all the anger and irritation from Cyrus, leaving him disheartened.
"No... despite all my efforts," Cyrus replied, his voice tinged with disappointment as he surveyed the forest which is covered in blood and viscera.
"Looks like it's time for some wise words from old Jeb," the gruff voice said along with the sounds of stiff bones cracking.
"Please don't. I'd rather be dissolved by the slimes," Cyrus sighed, sitting on a flat rock while Jeb finished cracking his back and fingers.
"I've been around long enough to know that it takes a special kind of slayer to make the league bend their rigid rules," Jeb chuckled, recalling the hefty rule book he'd seen a couple of bronze rank slayers lugging around years ago.
"The fact that they let you set even one toe through a door, let alone clear hundreds of them solo without joining an established guild, is proof enough that they hold you in high regard," Jeb remarked as the image of a young, heavily injured but still smiling Cyrus emerging from a bronze door flashed through his mind. "Heck, kid, sometimes I forget to bring my first aid kit because you often come out with only minor injuries or none at all!"
Cyrus couldn't help but chuckle as he has been adding less and less scars on his body.
"Listen, kid, you've got that spark of potential. Don't extinguish it by feeling down about a few easy victories," Jeb said earnestly. "A slayer like you is a rare find nowadays."
"That's sound advice, Jeb, I appreciate it. But how do I demonstrate my potential to the GSL?" Cyrus inquired, unashamed of his envy towards those of higher ranks.
"Well, that's something that'll require a good deal of brainstorming, some blackjack, and old whiskey," Jeb replied, eliciting a smile from Cyrus.
"Got it, I'll grab a bottle later," Cyrus chuckled, recalling a past brainstorming session that had earned him a killer headache and a couple extra spending money. "Hopefully, Richard can hold his liquor; that's one mess I don't want to clean up."
Jeb's laughter boomed as Cyrus placed a bone necklace into a black metal box adorned with yellow runes, alongside the remnants of shattered weapons and other items.
"Alright, all weapons and corpses are loaded; now I just need to find the realm boss," he said. As he spoke, a rustle from above caught his attention. He looked up to see a large, muscular, and bearded goblin leaping from a tree branch, spear poised, descending toward him.
Time seemed to crawl as the dark green beast hurled its spear towards Cyrus's forehead. He narrowly dodged, leaping aside and swiftly advancing before swinging outward the second he got into striking distance.
The boss goblin parried, snapping the spear in two before hastily flinging the fragments at Cyrus while retreating to create distance.
Cyrus kept his gaze fixed, sidestepping the spearhead and batting away the shaft, then charged at the goblin. It cackled, scattering three small brown stones that burst into a cloud of thick dust.
Cyrus positioned his knife defensively and held steady, detecting a subtle movement in the cloud. The boss goblin surged forward, brandishing a pair of stone knives.
As Cyrus prepared to counter, a shadowy appendage burst forth from the goblin's torso, seizing his face and leaving him wide-eyed with astonishment.
"AND HERE I THOUGHT YOU WERE A WORTHY CHALLENGER!" A booming voice echoed in his mind as the shadowy hand tightened its grip, causing Cyrus's entire body to shake and tremble under the increasing pressure.
His left arm swung up quickly, and he felt a rough impact against it, snapping his focus back to the present, as the shadowy hand dissipated, stone knives were revealed, mere inches from his face.
The goblin boss snarled in fury, attempting to drive the knives deeper. With his senses and strength returning, Cyrus heard a faint bang in the distance, followed by a sudden explosion in a section of the goblin boss's forehead.
Its eyes widen and rolled upwards as it collapsed to the ground with a thud.
"And now you owe me a sparring match," a tough feminine voice joked, "since you almost let that low-level creature get a hit."
"Thanks for the save, Jazzy. That goblin was super strong," Cyrus said, his voice dripping with enough sarcasm to fill a swimming pool, as he sheathed his weapon and greeted Jasmine with a fist bump.
She is clad in black baggy pants, held up by an ammo pouch belt, a dark purple tank top, black steel-toed boots, and blue vine tattoos that twine up her arms and meet at her neck.
"So, I'm guessing the reason for your near-hilarious demise is due to your body being ravaged by poisoning," she remarked, a curious expression on her face as she holstered her heavy pistol, silver dog tags dangling from it. "Is it the goblins or Nina to blame?"
"Surprisingly, Nina isn't the culprit this time," Cyrus replied with a slight chuckle, as Jasmine looked on in shock. "I've actually been sleeping rough for a few nights."
"I refuse to believe that you're tired just because of a couple of nightmares," Jasmine said as Cyrus stowed the corpse in storage. "So, you're telling me you can go through door after door from sunrise to sunset, but a bad dream is what makes the door kicker falter?"
"Firstly, it's a truly bizarre nightmare, not just your typical falling dream, which, I might add, has been recurring for years. And secondly, I thought I asked you to stop calling me that," he sighed, making his way to the exit.
"Firstly, I'm just teasing you, bro—your feelings are completely valid. Secondly, it's a fitting summary of your career thus far," she said, offering a caring smile as she tossed him an energy drink.
"Mr. Ashford amazed everyone by clearing fifty doors on his first outing as a slayer, and his tally has only grown since!" Jeb added with a laugh, prompting Cyrus to sigh as he caught the drink.
"You know I only did that to avoid being late for the date," he explained, taking a long sip that instantly made him feel less sluggish.
"Then a year later, she dumped you for being too busy with work," she said, shaking her head with a frown. "That's why you should only date slayers; they understand the chaotic lifestyle better."
"I doubt any slayer leads a more chaotic life than I do," Cyrus remarked as they passed through the silver door, departing the boundless forest realm to re-enter the real world. "But enough about me. Can you believe it's been twenty years since a new diamond rank slayer emerged?"
"I can believe it because being part of the three lower ranks lets you live comfortably with minimal health risks," Jasmine replied, her expression grave. "Striving for anything higher is practically inviting a closed casket funeral, if you're fortunate."
"She has a point, kid; you're not as lucky as me," said Jeb, the burly wolfman clad in a FFH cap and orange jumpsuit, as he extended his muscular cybernetic arm to offer Cyrus a touchpad for signing.
"See, Jeb understands—he was a gold slayer, so he knows a thing or two about the job," she remarked as the FFH collection team entered and began to remove the sealed items and corpses.
"I understand, but what about exploring the unknown and discovering the secrets hidden beyond these cursed doors?" Cyrus retorted, recalling the tales from his history classes at school.
"Some people lack the urge to explore, and there's the obvious fact that high-ranking slayers essentially have the right to claim whatever they find for themselves," Jeb remarked, clapping the young slayer's shoulder firmly before resuming his work.
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Jasmine nodded in agreement. "Which, in turn, makes other ventures both fun and annoying. The two books I wrote on slime and Kobold anatomy are selling well, but there's only so many times I can reword them before I go insane."
"So, you're dealing with a lot of writer's block?" Cyrus asked, causing her to frown.
"Yeah, and friends are advising me to write autobiographies and slayer guides, even though it's an oversaturated market," she grumbled, casting a glance at a hologram ad for another diamond rank slayer's autobiography and secret tips book.
"Perhaps that could change if we climb the ranks and you discover bizarre creatures to document and research," Cyrus proposed, a contemplative expression on his face.
"Do I need to remind you again of the premature deaths and formidable slayers we just discussed?" Jasmine chuckled, teasingly tapping his forehead.
"Well If you had the door kicker to absorb all the heat, would you go for it?" Cyrus inquired, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
"I don't want you risking your life for my career, so I suppose I'll have to put my support skills to good use to keep you alive," she said with a playful sigh, her finger glowing bright yellow as it healed the light cut on his cheek.
"Don't forget about your gun; you might need it to take down a few diamond slayers," Cyrus chuckled, the yellow glow turned to grey, making him feel instantly weak and sleepy for a moment.
"Noted, bro. Now I've got one more job, then I'm done for the day. Wanna join?" Jasmine asked with a smile as Cyrus recovered from his quick nap. "Since I don't think the league gives you many silver doors to explore."
"None at all, as they don't want to risk their bronze prize egg getting crushed," Cyrus replied with a fierce grin, cracking his stiff neck. "So it's a good opportunity to see if I can handle silver doors."
"This is the legendary door kicker all fired up, I see," she laughed while sending him the location of the silver door. "After this we'll visit mom and dad with the guys, then have a serious discussion about this crazy plan."
"Great along with a large cheesy pepperoni pizza, I'm starving," Cyrus proposed as he climbed onto his bike.
"Deal, but if you don't beat me there, it's pineapple and anchovies," she replied with a wide grin, leaping onto her dark orange hover bike and soaring over the buildings.
Cyrus's expression turned grave in an instant as he pedaled into the distance, becoming a mere blur, eliciting chuckles from Jeb and the FFH members as they continued working.