Kal instinctively rose as the moon's light struck his eyes—his body, honed by countless nights, knew exactly what time it was.
It's already 11 pm.
A quick glance at his phone confirmed his prediction, right on the dot.
Kal dressed with precision—nothing was out of place. First, he slid into a pair of black, flowy sweats that allowed free movement. Next came a black tank top, followed by a snug, long-sleeved shirt.
It'll keep me warm. My body must stay primed, he mused.
He then pulled on black socks and laced up his jet-black shoes—every brand label meticulously spray-painted away so that he became nothing more than a ghost in the night.
Gloves came next. And then, it was time for the final pieces.
He began with a series of controlled stretches—each movement deliberate and precise. Whenever he faltered on timing, a quick glance at his phone ensured every pose was held just long enough. Then he executed a light workout—pushups, squats, shadow boxing, and hops—all at exactly 50% exertion.
Mom should be asleep, but I'll meditate for five minutes—just in case, he noted.
Fully clothed, Kal reclined in bed. The open window ushered in a cool breeze that didn't diminish the residual warmth and energy surging through him. He drew three measured, deep breaths, emptying his mind only to replace it with a single, unwavering thought:
Just have to take care of the plague.
His phone's alarm sliced through the silence—five minutes were up. Slowly, he rose to begin the final phase of his ritual.
From his cluttered desk drawer, he retrieved a knife and held it over the gold ring on his finger—engraved with the letter "K." Fixated on his hand, he slit his left finger, letting a drop of blood cascade onto the ring.
Complete. As Dexter would say—"Tonight's the night"? Eh, too edgy for me.
With one final deep breath, Kal tied his hair back and donned his ski mask.
Better move before Mom catches me with my shoes on indoors…
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Kal moved with breathtaking speed and agility, converting every ounce of momentum into relentless motion. In just a year, he'd mastered parkour. He dashed across rooftops, swung from balconies, and ran along walls like a man possessed—no innate gift, only countless hours of training. Most would never reach such heights, but he grudgingly admitted his knack for learning. Not at a prodigy's level, but undeniably there.
"I should be close…" he murmured, picking up the pace as the wind broke around him. Clad entirely in black, his silhouette flickered along alleys and across rooftops—appearing one moment, vanishing the next.
In an instant, he planted his left foot and halted his momentum.
"Hah! Did you see their faces? They looked like scared bitches when I said they were headed for cell block D! Didn't expect those savages to skin 'em alive, though! Zaha! No matter—he had no family anyway."
A stout man with a clean-shaven head and a full beard emerged from a nearby building.
Just as expected—this is your favorite bar.
True to form, Winston took a quicker exit down a back alley, evading his wife who was paranoid and convinced he was cheating.
Time to act. Thank you, Lady Night, for lending me your strength and the judges hammer to deliver retribution to those sheltered by Lady Day.
Kal leaped off the building's edge, landing with the grace of a cat.
-Thud!
He came to a stop directly before three men. Without hesitation, Winston advanced.
"Who the fuck are you? Move out of my way," Winston barked, attempting to shove past Kal.
Kal seized Winston's arm. "Winston—bribery, torture, manslaughter—you're truly deplorable."
Winston laughed, his flushed face reddening further as the height difference became stark.
"Ahem!" he cleared his throat, still blushing. "Look, kid—I don't care if you're a friend's joke or a message from my wife. Just move before we have a real problem."
Huh, tier 1 Dissonant. I can't believe I'm on the same level as this fly. Better handle him fast before his wife shows up—she's waiting just outside.
"Yeah, kid, just move. Nobody wants to break your little body."
"Agree."
Two more voices emerged behind Winston.
"Winston and company—if you stand down, I'll—"
-Snap!
"Argh—" Winston's scream was cut short as Kal shoved cotton into his mouth before he could cry out.
"Did you really think I was going to keep talking with scum like you?"
Kal glanced at Winston's face contorted in agony and then briefly looked at his arm.
"Ah, your arm? Looks like a twisted pretzel," Kal remarked, eyes cold, but there was an unmistakable flash of amusement.
As a striking viper, Kal dashed toward the next assailant.
-Umph!
The man reacted instantly, launching a straight right. Just before the punch landed, Kal slipped to the right, letting the fist skim past his head. In one fluid motion—as the man's arm extended—Kal yanked it downward, meeting it with a swift knee strike.
-Crack!
"Argh—" Kal muffled his cry with cotton, grinding his teeth against the pain.
-Hmph!
Meanwhile, a third attacker, waiting until Kal had silenced his friend, slipped out of view.
-Swish!
A sharp, whistling sound cut through the air as another fist nearly connected with Kal's ribs.
-Thump!
"Ah, ah, ah—that's not nice," Kal said coldly, seizing the incoming fist with one hand and twisting his arm. Before the man could cry out, Kal shoved cotton into his mouth. The man, resigned, began tapping him vigorously—a silent plea for mercy.
"I'll let you go if you say, 'Please stop!'" Kal demanded, his tone raised not in anger but with a hint of dark amusement. A brief smile flickered on his lips.
All he heard were muffled screams.
"Ah, what a shame—I can't hear you…"
-Snap!
With a swift twist, Kal contorted the man's arm 180 degrees until it resembled a pretzel, eliciting a cry of pain.
Shifting his attention back to Winston, Kal noticed the man fiddling with his phone behind his back.
-Swish!
Tensing his calves, Kal lunged at Winston—sweeping his legs in one fluid arc. Winston toppled onto his back, his phone clattering to the ground.
"Dad? Hello?"
Shit. I have to hurry—his wife will appear any minute, right on time.
Kal snatched the unlocked phone and ended the call, his fingers cold and swift.
"Winston, you and your friends will confess now—unless you want me to kill your wife waiting just behind this alley." His voice turned ice-cold, his brown eyes emptied of feeling.
He swiped to the video recording app and began capturing the moment.
45 seconds remaining…
"Now, nod if you're confessing voluntarily."
Winston nodded quickly, panic flickering across his features. Kal removed the cotton from his mouth and glanced behind the alley to underscore his threat. Stepping back, he centered Winston in the frame.
"Now, confess."
Winston began choking on his words: "I—I—I… I wi—Winston…"
30 seconds left…
"Hurry up."
-Thud! Thud!
The sound of shoes slamming against concrete echoed from behind Kal.
Bastard—buying time, no doubt!
Spinning sharply, he faced two barreling fists.
-Swish!
Ducking swiftly, Kal watched them miss by a wide margin. Slipping through the narrow gap between the attackers, he dashed forward, but his stomach churned with a familiar twist—something was off. They weren't attacking with purpose. They were stalling.
-Clank!
A knife flashed in hand.
In one fluid motion, Kal drew his own blade. Dropping low, he propelled himself forward—spinning 45 degrees—to strike at the exposed Achilles tendons of his assailants.
-Pop! Pop!
He swiftly severed both tendons.
"You're lucky I never kill…" he muttered to the men, his voice cold, devoid of any emotion.
"Arghhh!"
"Arghh!"
The men cried out, their moans rising as they tore the cotton from their mouths.
"Ah, damn it…"
Whipping around, Kal caught sight of another figure.
"I got you, fucker! You thought I couldn't use the code, huh?" Winston screamed, raising his uninjured arm.
A shadowed figure traced symbols in the air and shouted, "IGNIS!"
A massive fireball coalesced rapidly, its heat distorting the air in waves.
"Fuck! You idiot—you can't—"
-Boom!
Before the blaze could strike Kal, it imploded on Winston—shaking nearby buildings and triggering car alarms. A shockwave slammed Kal backward, and for a moment, his ears rang with the deafening roar. He felt the heat singe his hair, a brief glimpse of flames licking at his jacket.
The acrid scent of charred flesh burned his nostrils as he staggered back.
"You fucking idiot! Wha—"
When the dust cleared, Kal beheld intestines and blood scattered at his feet.
"Bler—"
Gagging, he forced himself to compose his thoughts. His stomach clenched—not from the gore, but the realization. He didn't make it happen. But still... He'd been there. He'd done nothing to stop it. His hand tightened around the phone, shaking slightly.
The alley lay awash with intestines and blood—every remnant of a human form scattered. A gruesome testament to Winston's final mistake.
Then a voice pierced the chaos:
"W–W… Win–Winston, Honey…?" An older woman emerged from the swirling dust.
Fuck. Of course—my luck. That dumbass just killed himself.
Shop owners and passersby gathered to inspect the carnage, while residents peered anxiously from nearby windows.
"Ahhhhh!" the wife screamed.
A crowd assembled—a slim, muscular figure clad in black and a mask standing before three brutally mutilated bodies, while a woman cried out a man's name.
Kal briefly looked up into the sky
Damn, I feel her pressure! That must be the daughter huh.
Kal could only scoff at the thought of fighting her.
Before anyone could react, Kal bolted past the scene and the wife. His escape was already planned—even if a major hindrance loomed, nothing could derail it. With every ounce of strength, he ran—threading through people, alleys, and across rooftops.
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By the time he reached home at precisely 2:05 a.m., Kal finally allowed himself the promise of sleep after the night's ordeal. Slipping through the window, he quickly undressed and collapsed onto his bed, eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling.
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Durr—
He silenced his alarm before it could fully screech, glanced at his phone, and noted the date.
Tuesday, huh…
-Knock, knock.
A soft knock at the door preceded his mother's entrance.
Why knock if you're just going to barge in…
"Hey, honey, I'm coming," she whispered.
-Mwah.
She planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.
"Be safe on your way home from school today. They say a vigilante brutally murdered a couple of guys last night—bodies so disfigured they couldn't even be identified. Bastard…" she scoffed.
At that moment, Kal's heart sank.