The warehouse was a furnace of chaos. Fire and rain clashed above, steam pouring from shattered skylights as thunder growled in the distance. Broken machinery and concrete dust littered the floor, the stench of oil and blood thick in the air.
Ryoji stood across from the Crimson Ghost—both motionless. Statues carved from pain and purpose.
Then they moved.
Ryoji dashed first, feet pounding concrete. A feint right—he ducked low, slicing upward with both knives. Sparks exploded as they scraped across the Ghost's exo-armor.
The Ghost answered in kind—a spinning backfist that shattered the crate behind Ryoji even though it barely grazed his shoulder.
Boom!
Ryoji crashed into a pillar, but he didn't slow. He slid under a follow-up stomp and kicked the Ghost's knee from behind. A normal man would collapse.
The Ghost turned mid-motion and slammed an elbow into Ryoji's spine.
Crack.
Ryoji hit the ground hard, vision pulsing red.
Miura opened fire from a catwalk above. Her bullets pinged off the Ghost's armor, barely scratching it—but drawing its attention. That was enough.
Ryoji surged up with a grunt and hurled a steel rod like a javelin—it struck the Ghost's side and embedded in a damaged joint. The Ghost staggered—briefly.
That's when Miura leapt from above.
She landed behind the Ghost and jammed a shock baton into the gap in its lower back.
A pulse of electric blue cracked the air.
The Ghost spasmed—just for a second—but turned like a machine reborn, grabbing Miura by the throat and lifting her.
Too slow.
Ryoji tackled him from the side, driving a fire axe into the Ghost's elbow joint.
CLANG—CRACK!
Hydraulics hissed. Sparks flew. The arm dropped Miura as the Ghost swung blindly with his remaining hand.
Ryoji flipped back—but too late.
SMASH.
The Ghost caught him mid-air and hurled him into a steel beam. Ryoji crumpled, coughing blood.
Miura fired a flare straight at the Ghost's face.
FWUMP—!
Blinding white filled the space. Even the Ghost staggered.
Ryoji, dazed, blinked through blood and smoke. Now.
He activated a trap.
Underneath the floor—he'd planted mines. Earlier. He'd known they might be followed.
He pressed the trigger.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!
The floor collapsed in a blaze of concrete and flame. The Crimson Ghost dropped into the dark pit below.
Silence.
Steam. Fire. Smoke.
Aiko rushed forward. "Did you—?"
Ryoji stood slowly, clutching his ribs. "No."
From below, a metallic hand gripped the ledge.
The Crimson Ghost pulled himself up, armor cracked, one eye of his visor shattered.
But still coming.
Miura whispered, "He's… unstoppable."
"No," Ryoji muttered, drawing his last knife. "Everyone has a weakness."
The Ghost charged.
Ryoji didn't dodge.
Instead, he threw a grenade—not at the Ghost, but at the ceiling.
BOOM!
Steel beams collapsed between them, cutting the Ghost off for mere seconds—but that was enough.
Ryoji grabbed Miura and Aiko. "Go! Now!"
They ran through the back exit, vanishing into the night as fire swallowed the warehouse behind them.
The Crimson Ghost stood in the wreckage, motionless. Watching.
To be continued in Chapter 25...