From atop the fire truck, the OG group stared in stunned silence as the figure who moved like a shadow approached the horde, Michael Jackson's bass-heavy beat still reverberating through the air.
Kira—me, to be exact—rolled my neck, loosening the tension. My eyes scanned the streets, sizing up the shambling mass of zombies. Their lifeless groans tried to disrupt the rhythm, but they were nothing more than level-zero slimes, barely worth the effort.
Still, the system had a point for once. These poor souls, the OG group—yeah, I'd read about them—were practically walking magnets for trouble. A grin curled at the corner of my lips. "Might as well make this interesting."
I crouched down, my hand resting on my prized sword. With a flick of my thumb, I freed the blade from its sheath. It gleamed in the dim light, still pristine despite the chaos. "Alright, slimes," I muttered under my breath. "Time to dance."
SWISH!
I dashed forward, the sword slicing through the first zombie's neck with ease, the head flying off into the air.
Thud!
The body dropped like a marionette with its strings cut.
Shhhk! Slash! Shunk!
I spun around, cutting down three more zombies in rapid succession. Their bodies fell with a satisfying THUD, blood spraying in thin arcs, painting the ground in fresh red strokes.
Tap,
tap,
tap.
My boots hit the pavement in time with the beat, like some sort of deadly metronome.
The air around me shimmered with tension, the clatter of the blade echoing between the growing silence.
I could practically hear the gasps of the group behind me, eyes glued to the carnage unfolding.
From the corner of my eye, I spotted a cluster of them closing in from the side.
Without a second thought, I flipped my blade into a reverse grip and launched myself toward them.
BAM!
I kicked off the ground, my legs twisting mid-air as I brought the sword down in a vicious arc, carving through two zombies' heads in a single stroke.
The force sent their heads flying like ragdolls into the distance.
I landed softly, crouched low, and glanced up at the group standing atop the truck.
Their wide eyes watched every move. Good. Let them see what a real warrior looks like.
"Too slow." I said it out loud, a smirk playing on my lips as I straightened my stance. "You slimes are pathetic."
CRASH!
A zombie lunged from behind, but without turning, I slid my sword back in a quick, fluid motion, impaling the creature before it even got close.
Splurt!
The thing's body twitched and then collapsed to the ground.
Suddenly, the system chimed in, mockingly: "Careful, don't get too cocky now. Maybe I'll throw a real challenge your way."
I gritted my teeth. "When I get my hands on you, system, I'm slapping your ass into next week."
.
.
A swarm of zombies surged toward me, but I didn't even flinch. This was too easy. One by one, they fell to my blade—SLASH! THUNK! SHINK!—their blood splattering in beautiful, crimson streaks.
I pivoted gracefully, each step of the dance more fluid than the last.
Tap, tap, tap.
My feet barely touched the ground as I moved through them like a whirlwind.
Splat! One zombie's head popped like a melon.
Swish! My sword arced through the next, cleaving straight down the middle.
The music was still blasting, Michael Jackson's smooth voice narrating the carnage, turning it into some twisted, grotesque ballet.
I could see the faces of the group, their expressions frozen in shock, awe, and... maybe a little fear.
"Don't worry," I called over to them, flicking the blood from my blade. "You're safe now."
A few more zombies shuffled toward me, still drawn by the noise. My predatory grin returned. I raised my sword one more time, ready to end the dance.
"Let's finish this," I whispered, the thrill of the fight sending a surge of adrenaline through me.
.
.
.
.
.
I leapt into the air, twisting like a coiled spring, and brought the blade down with both hands. SHING! The final strike cleaved through the remaining zombies, splitting them apart in one flawless motion.
THUD.
The last corpse hit the ground.
And just like that, the street fell silent again, save for the fading echoes of the song. I stood in the center of the carnage, my breath steady, my body still humming with energy.
I turned toward the fire truck, wiping the blood off my sword with a casual flick of the wrist.
Their wide eyes followed my every movement. I could feel Saeko's gaze burning into me with something dangerously close to admiration.
I sheathed the sword, walking toward them with a casual swagger, my bloodied figure no longer a ghost in the night but something far more fearsome.
I stopped at the base of the fire truck and flashed them a grin. "So... need a hand?"
.
.
.
.
.
.
The bloodbath behind me had already faded into the distant past. I glanced over my shoulder at the OG group, who were still atop the fire truck, their faces pale, a mix of disbelief and relief painted across their features. They stared at me, unsure, maybe even a little scared—not that I cared much. My job wasn't to babysit.
I sighed, slipping my sword back into its sheath with a smooth click, the blood still dripping from the edge. "Look, I'm heading somewhere safe. You can follow if you want. Or stay here and get eaten. Doesn't matter to me."
Without another word, I turned my back on them and started walking.
The silence hung in the air for a second longer before I heard their hurried footsteps behind me. Yeah, figured they'd follow.
Saeko's light footfalls were the first to catch up to me. I glanced to my left, noticing her katana—the wooden one—was barely hanging on, chipped and cracked from the last fight.
With a reluctant sigh, I raised my left hand toward her. She looked at me, eyes narrowing slightly. That sharp gaze. There was something different about her... a warrior's spirit or whatever.
"Here," I said, my voice flat. "Take mine for now. You'll need it."
Saeko's eyes widened a fraction as she saw the sword strapped to my back, the one I'd just sheathed. It wasn't a katana, but it was finely crafted, durable, and deadly. She hesitated for just a moment before nodding gracefully.
"Thank you," she said, her voice polite, almost too polite, as she reached for the sword and took it from me. The fanservice-y pose she struck while tying the sheath to her hips didn't go unnoticed—HOTD logic in full effect. I averted my gaze, shaking my head at the absurdity. This world...
We continued down the bridge, the sound of our shoes lightly tapping against the pavement, saeko now equipped with my sword. I could see her fingers curling around the hilt, getting a feel for the blade. Even though she was a katana user, the weight and balance of this sword didn't seem to throw her off. In fact, she seemed to appreciate its strength.
"I'll need that back later," I muttered casually. "So don't break it."
Saeko gave a small nod, her fingers tightening around the hilt. She didn't say much, but I could feel the shift in her posture. She was testing the weight, gauging its balance, probably imagining the force behind each strike. Even with a straight sword, she had the instincts of a deadly swordswoman. Impressive.
Meanwhile, Hirano was practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes glued to the rocket launcher strapped across my back. "T-That's a LAW M72! Holy crap, the specifications, the range... I mean, the sheer power of that thing! And you... you're just casually carrying it!?"
He sounded like he was about to have a nerdgasm, and honestly, I tuned him out after the first few words. The guy really had a thing for weapons, but I had other priorities—like the zombies now filling the gaps on the bridge, forming a thick line ahead.
Groan... shuffle... thud...
The number of them wasn't even impressive anymore. Just another swarm, crawling toward me like a bunch of cockroaches.
I cracked my neck, glancing down the length of the bridge. More zombies were coming from behind us too. Typical. I sighed and muttered under my breath, "Cockroaches..."
The OG group tensed behind me, their faces shifting from determination to slight panic as they realized just how outnumbered we were.
"Tch. Fine. Let's give them a little show."
I unslung the rocket launcher from my back, lifting it with ease. It felt good in my hands—heavy, powerful, destructive. Hirano practically drooled. "You're... you're actually going to use it?"
I smirked. "Watch and learn."
With one smooth motion, I hoisted the launcher onto my shoulder, aimed for the center of the bridge, and fired.
BOOM!
The explosion ripped through the air, echoing across the city as the rocket blasted forward, hitting its mark dead center in the horde. The bridge buckled under the impact, concrete and steel shattering as the middle section gave way.
CRASH! RUMBLE!
The center of the bridge collapsed, sending hundreds of zombies plummeting into the river below, their groans quickly drowned out by the rushing water.
The entire OG group stood frozen, jaws hanging open, eyes wide as they watched the carnage unfold. Even Saeko paused, her hand still resting on the hilt of my sword, her lips parted in shock.
I slid the launcher back over my shoulder and stuck my hands in my pockets, earbuds already back in place as the beat of my music drowned out the fading groans of the zombies.
"Let's go," I said casually, turning to walk across what remained of the bridge.
Behind me, their mouths practically hit the ground. But they followed. Of course, they did.
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A/N : And that's how kira met the OG group, and what kind of trouble Takashi's protagonist halo will bring... only time will tell that.