Three years later.
"Today, in another devastating assault, Cain City of Eastern Lutannica has fallen victim to a single Mutanaut, claiming the lives of two Hyper Vigilant soldiers and seven civilians."
In the dimly lit old tavern, the hum of conversations faded into a hush as the somber voice from the television filled the air. The flickering light cast an eerie glow across the faces of the patrons, who turned their attention to the news anchor's grave announcement.
Concerned glances were exchanged among the patrons, the weight of the news settling heavily over them.
The anchor continued, "Damages from this attack rival the severity of the past nine incidents over the last three years. Yet, let us not forget the night of Beginningofit—the horrors of Balland Town in New Zimanian City in the North that marked the genesis of the Mutanauts' renewed terror after two centuries of peace."
At the mention of the night of Beginningofit, the atmosphere in the tavern shifted. Patrons who had appeared disinterested moments before now focused intently on the television, their expressions turning serious.
The terror of that night was etched into the souls of humanity, further tarnishing the already damaged reputation of the North. It was on that fateful night that the first Mutanaut emerged after more than two centuries of peace, completely obliterating Balland Town and claiming the lives of over eighty Northern civilians.
Though the Hyper Vigilant Corps intervened and vanquished the monster, the cost was steep, earning it the name "Beginningofit." Rumors swirled that over thirty HV soldiers perished in that battle, but the true extent of their losses remained undisclosed.
In the wake of this incident, several more attacks followed, with Mutanauts appearing in various locations. However, none could rival the horrors of the night of Beginningofit; just the mention of it invited palpable fear.
As the news anchor continued, the television screen split, revealing other newscasters, each expressing a spectrum of anxieties.
"Where stands the fate of humanity?" one queried, a tremor in their voice.
Another pondered aloud, "Is the terrible war that occurred two hundred years ago destined to repeat itself?"
"Forgive me for asking, but can we really place our lives and hopes in the hands of the Hyper-Vigilant Corps?" a skeptical voice chimed in, echoing the unease in the room.
Tension thickened as another reporter questioned the strength of the Hyper Vigilant soldiers, citing the loss incurred in eliminating the Mutanauts that had appeared over the past three years.
"Some claim these Hyper Vigilant Soldiers aren't as strong as rumored," the reporter continued, "raising concerns about the potential devastation if the Mutanauts were to attack in full force."
The screen shifted to a more ominous perspective as an anonymous commentator remarked, "Some say that the recent Mutanauts greatly surpass the monsters our ancestors battled and triumphed against. But then again, are the Hyper Vigilant Corps really as powerful and competent as they claim?" This remark stirred further unease among the patrons.
As the tension reached its peak, a doomsayer's voice emerged, declaring, "Humanity is doomed! It's just as I envisioned in my dream. These demons will eat us all! It is not too late to convert, my sons, daughters, brothers and sisters! Pray to God! rid yourselves of your sins! This world is doomed!"
WAMM!
"Keep it down, old man. The news ain't even over yet." A patron slammed his mug on the table in irritation.
The man's face looked quite hairy, his lower face covered in a thick unkept beard, streaked with both black and white. He wore a dirty brown gown that covered his neck down to his toes, his shiny black boots sticking out from below.
"Always knew those HV cunts were nothing but cunts. You two are cunts, too. Even I am also cunt. We are all cunts. But my point is, the hell's those cunts been doin with my tax money!? Tsk tsk! I stuff the damn cunts up all those peaceful years, and when it's finally time for action they just die off like fucking cunts!? Fucking cunts!!" An enraged middle-aged man with long black hair, clad in suits uttered with his eerily deep voice, before savagely biting into the huge chunk of meat in his arm.
The middle-aged man was seated on the same table with the hairy man in long brown gown from earlier and a younger looking male person. He had mesmerising mixed coloured blue and yellow pupils, and a long pointed nose making him outstandingly handsome. He had neatly trimmed side burns which connected on his chin, with a little bit of it also sticking out and intruding into his cheeks from both sides.
If the man would chew with a touch more grace, he'd seem like a main character from some adult fantasy novel. No, actually, he also has to be a bit taller to fit in the category, as his legs were barely even meeting the ground, hanging off from where he sat like a little kid.
"Calm down, man. Not like someone like you paid tax, anyways." The younger figure remarked, casually sipping his wine.
Unlike the raucous patrons around him, the young man seemed reserved, his expensive suit adorned with golden stripes setting him apart, and drawing envious glares from those nearby.
He was clearly in his mid twenties, bearing premature goat-like beards, and organised short dreads. Though his eyes seemed kind of gloomy.
"The fuck was that, John, ya little cunt? Calling me a criminal?"
John– the young man– smiled at the man without a word, taking another sip from his glass.
"Y'know, John, my boy, didn't I always tell you that the HV soldiers were nothing but fat-bellied weaklings? Told ya joining them was the wrong thing to aspire for. I sure am a great dad." The hairy man said pouring the remaining wine into his mug.
"Nah, pops. Pretty sure you only said that cause it was too late for you to join them then. You just didn't want me to achieve the things you failed to achieve." John said, his simple smile unwavering.
"Pfft." Hairy man chuckled, and without a word, raised his mug, taking a lengthy sip from it, spilling some onto his beards. He lazily wiped his hand across the mess and continued, "You hear the boy, Hiro? Thinks I'm jealous of him."
Hearing this, Hiro – the short man– chuckled and added, "Well, practically, your little cunt's some big shot now. Gotta have that big mouth if you're one, after all."
"He's grown into a successful man, no doubt about that. Guess my mistake wasn't so much of a mistake, huh." Hairy man said.
"Man, you cunt, that's enough talking to me. Leave me outta your family drama. Ruins the food."
"Business's been real tough lately, you see, my boy. Everyone's been acting right, and when that happens people like us starve. if nobody wants anyone dead, how the hell's a hitman like me supposed to survive?! Sorry for whooping your ass so much as a kid, son. All I'm asking for's a couple er' grands."
"Man, pops, you're an eyesore. Ain't the contract paying you over seven hundred grand? Can you even spend that much with the time you have left, you greedy old man?"
"I'm not even in my fifty yet, stingy brat. This is what happens when your mom's a slut."
"Right back at ya, pops. Except yours is even worse, since grandpa's a fucking shemale! Big man's got fucking vagina, man."
"How's ya fucking asshole, then? Since your mouth's so fucking sharp, answer me, eh? Think I don't know what they do to y'all for them shiny cars, huh? You human fucking toy." The hairy man shot back with a an aggressive grin as he popped open, another bottle of wine and poured most of it into his his oversized mug.
At this, John exhaled and added, "Ain't got time for this, pops. As per the contract, the package is to be received at the border, tomorrow, at noon."
"Ain't got my fucking time now, eh? Good for you." Hairy man said with a smirk.
"Knock it off already, cunt! Ya little cunt's talking business now." Hiro, his mouth down to his chin covered in sauce, yelled pointing his empty chicken bone towards the hairy man's face with a pissed expression.
"Okay, okay mate. Let's talk business now. Boy's just getting on me nerves. Got zero respect for his own pops." Hairy man finally shrugged, sitting up. "Tomorrow noon, at the Northeastern border, you say. But is that all?.." Hairy man said looking at John, his sunken, hairy, weary eyes filled with anticipation.
"Huh? What's that?" John asked with a genuinely surprised expression seeing the same look on Hiro's face.
"What's that? You're seriously asking this?"
"Oh... Ah, you mean the payment?"
"Nah, I mean your mom, you loosehole. Of course I mean the fucking payment."
John sighed and uttered, 'I understand your concern, pops. However, have we ever fallen short in meeting your expectations regarding payments, or is the substantial amount causing any unexpected anxiety?"
"..."
"Look, I really cannot blame you guys for this. I, too understand how absurd it seems, being paid such an unrealistic amout for an ordinary abduction contract. But then again, as you also already know, there's no way shortsighted men like ourselves can understand what those superior bastards are thinking. We simply do as we are told and collect what we are offered."
"Who the hell is she, anyway?" Hairy man asked.
"Who? The little girl?" John asked back, helping himself up from his seat. "Who knows? Just do as you're instructed, pops. One's things for sure, if the mission's that expensive, then it's just how much it's worth to those superior bastards. Plus It's them we're talking about, your concepts of 'huge amount' significantly differ."
John grabbed his glass, chugging down the rest of the wine in it, then gently dropped it back on the table.
"Well, since I have nothing more to say, Take care pops. I'll take my leave now, then. I'll give your regards to my wife." John said, lightly patting away dust from his suit jacket.
Afterwards, he corrected his tie, grabbed his key bunch from the table and proceeded to walk away.
Just before he could step through the tavern's door,
WOOOSH!
SWISHH!—"Arghk!" John gasped, gritting his teeth, the pain of a sword piercing his back and protruding from his chest overwhelming him as blood spilled from his mouth.
"W–why, you... from behind?..." he managed to choke out, his face contorted in anger and agony as he twisted his neck to glare at the figure wielding the katana that had just impaled him.
Around them, patrons in the tavern turned their heads at the sudden commotion but quickly returned to their own businesses, indifferent to the unfolding drama. Arm wrestlers continued their match, couples remained entangled in each other, and those merely loitering paid the scene no mind, as if it were just another day.
"You know, John boy…" the hairy man's cold voice sliced through the air, still gripping the sword lodged in his son's back, a shadow cast over his face.
Meanwhile, Hiro, seemingly unfazed by the chaos, continued to gnaw on his meat with savage enjoyment.
"You kept prattling on like you were trying to prove something. What was that earlier? You think you're better than me?!" The hairy man yelled with disgust.
He lounged himself from the ground, and with a skilful spin, pulled the katana from John's back and delivered a vicious kick onto the side of his neck.
The force of the kick sent John spiralling outside, crashing against the body of a black nearby parked vehicle.
Lying on the mangled car door, John trembled in agony atop his own blood, more blood oozing from his mouth. He watched as his father's figure approached, the breeze billowing through the man's long brown gown.
"You receive the package, and then what, huh, John boy? To think you'll even sacrifice your own old man for those bastards. Are their cocks really that enticing, eh?" The hairy man sneered, glancing down at his son, who trembled in pain.
"Even though you hail from the North like the rest of us, you've forgotten our ways. Have you really become so numb that you think we wouldn't know better?"
"Urghh…" John groaned, his trembling hands clawing at his bleeding chest in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of blood.
"You think I'll just sit back and be slaughtered like some useless hunting dog? Is that really all you think your pops amount to, huh? You worthless wimp! I'm only forty-eight, but you think I'm fucking senile!" The hairy man lashed out, his voice rising in fury.
After a moment, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "No hard feels, John boy. You see, it's against my principles to let someone live after they threaten my life. I don't care about Hiro in there, but I won't idly stand by while some bastards take away my life merely for knowing some shit they don't want known. From now on, I'm going into operation 'stay alive'. And if I end up dying, then the little girl goes to hell with me."
"D-don't you dare—Shut your mouth and die, you weak bastard. You think your superior fuckers will save you here in the North?"John's words were interrupted, and before he knew,
BLAM! BLAMM! BLAM!
The hairy man pulled a pistol from his gown and wasted several shots into John's head.
"Cecilia... yes, your slut of a mother... she never stopped riding the cocks of those Hebikizu assholes, you fucker. Take that info to hell with you." The hairy man concluded, his hairy face twisted with contempt, as he spat on John's lifeless bloodied face.
"Tch! Think I'm some fucking tool you can just dispose of whenever you like? Some used fucking condom?" He mumbled, squatting by John's dead body, using the dead man's clothes to wipe off blood from his katana.
WISSH
"Huh?..." The hairy man snapped his head towards the bushes, startled by the sudden rustle of grass.
"Tch." His face twisted in irritation as he stood up, rushing toward the trunk of the car where his son lay.
He hadn't noticed earlier, but the trunk had been unlocked from the impact of John's crash.
Grabbing the edges, he swung the trunk wide open, his expression morphing into one of anger. "Tch! Annoying little brat!" he muttered, seeing the rope that had once bound their abducted victim now lying carelessly in the trunk, alongside a small, blood-stained metal shard.
He slammed the trunk shut in frustration, sheathing his sword and bolting into the grassy area in pursuit of his fleeing victim.
Meanwhile, Hiro, still seated and savouring his meal, paused with a frown at the sound of the trunk slamming. After a while, he shrugged, stuffing another piece of meat into his mouth.
Once finished, he calmly slid down from his seat, wiped away the sauce staining his suit jacket, and walked out of the tavern. He approached the vehicle where John lay dead, squatting to stare into his reddened, lifeless face for a moment.
With a sigh and a shake of his head, Hiro nonchalantly walked away, leaving the scene behind him.