The laughter and taunts from the Rustborn gang came to an abrupt halt as the sharp voice from the shadows rang out, commanding attention. The gang members froze mid-mockery, turning their heads to identify the source. Even Rian, sprawled on the ground in pain, managed to lift his head, his heart pounding with a mix of hope and disbelief.
"A cop? Please let it be a cop," Rian muttered under his breath, his body aching from the beating he had endured. His hands trembled as he tried to focus, scanning the dimly lit alley.
What he saw left him stunned.
Emerging from the shadows was a figure dressed in an aerodynamic bodysuit, the deep navy blue fabric interwoven with silver patterns resembling rippling waves that shimmered faintly. The suit clung to the figure's form, revealing a lean yet powerful physique that suggested agility and strength. The glow of the patterns wasn't overpowering but radiated a subtle, almost ethereal quality that drew the eye. The half-face mask, seemingly an extension of the suit, concealed the figure's identity, covering everything from the neck up to the bridge of the nose. Only the eyes were visible, and they glinted with a piercing intensity in the faint light of the alley.
The first word that came to Rian's mind—and the gang's—was "Radiant." The realization sent a ripple of fear through the group. The gang members, ordinary humans with no special powers, knew they stood no chance against a Radiant. They began to back away, their bravado crumbling.
Rian, meanwhile, was still in shock. This was the first time since arriving in this world—just the previous day—that he was seeing a Radiant in the flesh. His heart raced with a mixture of awe and disbelief.
The man in the long sleeve shirt, upon closer inspection, was gritting his teeth in anger as he glared at the Radiant. No one else seemed to notice his expression. Suppressing his fury, he spoke to the others, his voice tense. "We have to leave. Now."
The gang began to retreat, stepping backward cautiously. But just as they were about to turn and flee, the Radiant's calm yet commanding voice stopped them in their tracks. "You have something that doesn't belong to you."
They froze. The hooded man, who had pocketed the money taken from Rian, suddenly felt a weight in his pocket that hadn't been there before. His hands grew clammy, and sweat dripped down his brow as the realization hit him. It felt as if the stolen money had become heavier, dragging him down like an anchor. Trembling, he slowly reached into his pocket to pull it out.
The man in the long sleeve shirt, however, was seething. Whether it was the humiliation of their powerlessness against the Radiant or the loss of the significant sum they had just stolen, his rage was palpable. He clenched his fists but dared not make a move, knowing full well what would happen if he crossed a Radiant.
The hooded man, his hands shaking, finally withdrew the wad of cash and held it out hesitantly, unable to meet the Radiant's piercing gaze. The gang stood frozen, waiting to see what would happen next.
The Radiant began to walk forward, his steps measured and deliberate. He stopped in front of the man in the long sleeve shirt, towering over him slightly. With a calm, steady tone, he said, "I hate bullies. Did you know that?"
To everyone's surprise, the man in the long sleeve shirt shot back, "And I hate Radiants."
The bold statement caused the Radiant to raise an eyebrow, visibly intrigued. The other gang members were shocked by their companion's audacity, and even Rian, lying on the ground, couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for the man's fearlessness.
The Radiant chuckled softly, the sound low and unsettling. "In that case," he said, "let me teach you how to be humble when you face power."
What happened next was too fast for Rian to comprehend. He wasn't sure if the Radiant had thrown a punch or something else entirely, but the man in the long sleeve shirt was suddenly airborne. He landed several meters away with a heavy thud, coughing up blood before collapsing unconscious.
The remaining gang members stared in horror, their fear now palpable. One of them, already trembling, fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "Please! We won't do this again! I swear!"
The Radiant chuckled again, his tone mocking. "Blame your friend for being so proud," he said, before vanishing in a blur of motion. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared in front of one of the gang members and struck him with a single punch. The man flew backward, landing hard on the ground and coughing blood, just like the first.
The remaining gang members scattered, their panicked shouts echoing in the alley as they stumbled over one another in their desperate attempt to escape. Some tripped in their haste, their faces pale with fear, while others glanced over their shoulders only to see a blur as the Radiant closed in on them. His movements were swift and precise, like a predator effortlessly picking off its prey. One by one, they fell, unconscious and defeated, their bodies sprawled across the alley like discarded puppets, the chaotic scene giving way to an eerie silence.
Rian watched the scene unfold, his mind reeling. It was like something out of the action movies he had loved in his previous world, where heroes struck with precision and villains were left trembling. But this was no scripted fight. The Radiant's overwhelming presence and effortless dominance felt both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Unlike the noble, larger-than-life heroes Rian admired in fiction, this Radiant was real—his power, his flaws, and his unapologetic arrogance all laid bare.
When the dust settled, the Radiant walked over to the hooded man, who was lying unconscious, clutching the stolen money. He knelt down, picked up the wad of cash, and began counting it as he turned and approached Rian.
Rian felt a wave of nervousness as the Radiant approached. He scrambled to his feet, dusting off his clothes in a futile attempt to compose himself. The Radiant, now standing mere steps away, stretched out the money toward Rian. "I believe this belongs to you," he said.
Relief flooded through Rian as he reached out to take the money. "Thank you," he said sincerely, his voice trembling slightly. But just as his fingers brushed the cash, the Radiant pulled his hand back, quickly counting out ₵2000 before handing the smaller amount to Rian.
Rian blinked in surprise, speechless. He stared at the Radiant, his expression a mix of gratitude and confusion. The Radiant, noticing Rian's reaction, rolled his eyes. "The remaining money is my service fee," he said casually.
"But you—" Rian started, only for the Radiant to cut him off. "Just take the money, kid."
Rian bit back a retort, cursing the Radiant in his heart for his shamelessness. To think he had declared he hated bullies! Still, Rian swallowed his frustration and quickly took the ₵2000, afraid that the Radiant might change his mind and take back the entire sum.
As Rian pocketed the money, something caught his eye that made his heart skip a beat. Above the Radiant's head, he saw a familiar icon—the same download button he had seen on his ZephyrTab and math textbook. But this one was different. It glowed faintly red and appeared blurry, almost as if it were distorted.
Rian stared, his mind racing. What does this mean? Why is it here? He couldn't tear his gaze away, his pulse quickening as the mysteries of this world deepened.
Before Rian could digest what he had just seen, the Radiant spoke again. "Head home before more trouble finds you," he said firmly. Then, without another word, the Radiant vanished, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air where he had stood.
Rian stood frozen for a moment, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. The sound of coughing snapped him back to reality. He turned to see the man in the long sleeve shirt beginning to stir, his weak coughs echoing in the alley.
Panic surged through Rian. Realizing the man would soon wake fully, Rian turned and quickly made his way out of the alley, his pace quickening with each step. He couldn't shake the feeling that staying any longer would spell more trouble.
Back in the alley, as silence settled once more, something strange began to happen to the man in the long sleeve shirt. Had Rian lingered, he would have seen the faint glow emerging from the man's chest, pulsing like a heartbeat, heralding the beginning of something extraordinary. A faint glow emerged from the man's chest, pulsing rhythmically before his eyes snapped open, glowing a vivid purple. He sat up slowly, the glow fading from his chest as his eyes returned to normal.
He surveyed his surroundings, noting the state of his gang members—some beginning to regain consciousness, others still sprawled unconscious on the ground. In a calm voice, he said, "Bring them back to the safehouse." Without waiting for a response, he stood and began walking away, his steps measured and deliberate.
The future was getting interesting.