"Why is Ji-an calling You, and when did she even get Your number?" Dae-chul asked. "That's the least of our problems right now" Ji-ho responded, "they are too many, even for me "Ji-ho said, as the pair were now on their feet. Almost surround by over Ten men. "Give it up, and surrender" one of the men spoke, "lets cut them piece by piece" a scrony looking boy among them yelled, his eyes screaming of bloodlust.
"Well they don't give us much of choice," Dae-chul grinned, tossing a spear to Ji-ho as he wrapped his hands around a mana infused Gun. The wind was sharp and dry. A single leaf touched the ground, the moment it did, the goons attacked. Ji-ho's boots slid slightly on the dusty ground as he twisted his body, barely dodging a dagger coated in thick, black liquid.
One of the goons came at him again, eyes screaming of bloodlust, making it easy to read him, veins pulsing with some kind of poison energy. Ji-ho didn't flinch. He gripped his spear tighter and slammed the shaft into the man's side, hearing the thud of impact. The man staggered back, coughing blood. "These guys... they're using something," Ji-ho muttered.
"Yeah, I noticed," Dae-chul called out, a few meters away, ducking behind a half-broken stone wall. He fired a shot from his pistol. A man with rotting skin and a twisted smile collapsed with a grunt. "We just have to get through this, one wayi or other. My mana rounds aren't enough for this!" Another goon charged toward Dae-chul, dual daggers in hand.
Dae-chul rolled to the side, one rounds left in his gun. He clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing. "I hate saving the last one…" He fired. Boom. The shot exploded right at the goon's knee, sending him flipping backward. "Too Bad for You, i always bring a spare," Dae-chul retorted. Meanwhile, Ji-ho spun his spear behind his back, blocking a blade aimed at his ribs. Another goon lunged at him from the side.
Ji-ho kicked him in the chest mid-air, knocking the breath out of him. Blood sprayed across Ji-ho's arm. His muscles tensed. You guys don't know when to stop, do you?" he said, sweat dripping down his face. "Fine. Let's play." Another charged, and Ji-ho met him head-on, parrying blow after blow. The battle dragged on, Their eyes red with madness, daggers gleaming with poison, bodies twitching from whatever strange power they had been gifted. Ji-ho and Dae-chul stood their ground.
"Don't hold back," Dae-chul muttered, cocking his gun. "They Don't look normal. Probably decay-type users." Ji-ho nodded, his grip tightening around the blood-stained shaft of his spear. The goons lunged. Sparks flew as steel clashed. Ji-ho twisted his body mid-swing, slashing his spear through the ribs of the first attacker.
Another rushed from the side, Dae-chul spuned low, knocking the man's legs from under him, and stabbed him through the back before he could scream. But they didn't stop. Another. Then another. Seven. Maybe eight. He lost count.
Each dagger they wielded dripped with dark green fluid, sizzling against the dirt when spilled. The ones who missed him scraped the walls and stones, leaving trails of slow rot where they struck.
Dae-chul grunted, two condensed mana bullets leaving his pistol in a flash. "Only a few mana rounds left," he hissed. He ducked as a blade slashed at his neck. Blood still managed to seep from his shoulder. He kicked the man back and shot him in the hand. "Tch. Bastards don't know when to stay down." Ji-ho fought like a storm, but his breathing got heavier. A knife grazed his arm. Another dug into his thigh. His spear trembled from the weight of the blood, the weight of exhaustion. And still, he moved.
The fight was going downhill for the dou, Dae-chul was holding up worse. His left hand hung uselessly, and he'd already dropped one of his guns. He spat out blood, then grinned. "I'm just getting started," he growled. His body was dripping. From his chest, back leg, his entire body was painted in blood. Ji-ho tried to move to his side, to cover for him.
Then suddenly, A blade slashed across Ji-ho's back. He stumbled, coughing, knees hitting the dirt. "Didn't they teach you never to let your guard down?" a man whispered, seizing Ji-ho by the hair. Another chuckled behind him. "A boy with no mana... and a toy officer who relies on weapons. You thought this could stop us?" The one holding Ji-ho leaned closer, breath hot and foul. "You know," he whispered, "I hate when weaklings tries to play the hero."
Ji-ho's eyes stayed down, his mind was foggy, he's body clearly fatigued. A battle that even him couldn't overcome, his blood dripped to the dirt. Something inside him snapped. The air changed. It was subtle. But it strangled. Even the goons noticed it, the way the wind stopped, the way the world held its breath. Ji-ho's hair shimmered, lifting slightly. It had grown. His body bulked up just enough to notice. A pulse of pressure rippled out from him. He stood. Not with a groan. Not with hesitation. But with intent.
His peircing blue eyes were dead. They screamed bloodlust. He was no longer the boy trying to hide his strength. No longer the boy afraid to be misunderstood. This was the part of him he refused to accept, the part which he had unconsciously buried. The part he swore never to use. Now, he had to. In a blink, he disappeared from their sight.
In the next blink, four bodies hit the ground near Dae-chul writhing, broken, groaning. He hadn't even seen the attack. Dae-chul dropped to one knee, barely able to hold himself up. He laughed. "Took you long enough." Ji-ho caught him before he could fall flat. "Please forgive me," Ji-ho said quietly, eyes never leaving the enemy. "Leave the rest to me." He laid Dae-chul gently on the ground, as if nothing around them mattered. Then stood.
Another blur. Two more goons dropped. "W-What are you?" one of them gasped before collapsing. The rest panicked and started running. They fled uphill, toward the cliffs where their hideout sat like a buried temple. A high ridge, impossible to escape if cornered. A sacred place for their twisted kind. Ji-ho vanished.
Before they could even scream, they hit the floor, cracked bones, missing teeth, gasping for air. Only one man was left standing. He wasn't afraid. He was laughing. He looked around at the bodies of his comrades, the blood, the destruction, then tilted his head back and cackled like a madman. "You think you've won?" he cried. "You think this was all there was?!"
He scratched his scalp hard, his fingers shaking. "We used to be useless, good-for-nothing scums... Until the master gave us purpose. We'll finally do something worthy of his praise! The master will acknowledge us! He'll see us!"
"No! Don't do it!" a voice screamed from behind. One of the downed goons reached out in horror. But it was too late.
The last man smiled through tears. "The master, despite being a god, he saw us. Lowly humans. And he gave us his gift." Red light erupted. Ji-ho froze. His eyes scanned their wrists. Every one of them, even those unconscious, those wounded, they all had the red markings. Now glowing. Dae-chul's eyes widened. "It's a bomb!"