"It's been a while. My hands feel stiff,"
Canis stretched casually in place—shoulders rolling, neck cracking.
Under normal circumstances, it might've looked harmless.
But now, in the tension of this moment, it made him look terrifying.
The man who'd once been bound in chains now stood free—and somehow more dangerous than before. Everyone could feel it.
Everyone… except one.
"You done with your damn stretches?" the AIA Captain growled.
"Hmm? Almost. Still a little stiff." Canis cracked his knuckles. "Maybe a quick warm-up would help. Wanna volunteer?"
"You bastard."
They all understood what he meant. "Exercise" wasn't literal. The Captain knew it. He was going to use them as punching bags.
"Guardian Spirits, that's enough. Return."
With silent nods, the spirits vanished—gone like smoke.
"What the—? They disappeared..." One of the agents blinked.
Relief was short-lived. Canis's voice pulled them back into dread.
"So… gentlemen. What now?"
He asked it so casually, like a host offering drinks at a party.
"What… what do we do now, Captain?"
"We fight." The Captain's voice was firm.
"But—"
Canis narrowed his eyes. He could already tell—most of them didn't want this fight.
"Look. I don't mind if you all walk away. I'll forget this happened. I don't fight the unwilling. That's not a battle—it's a beating."
"You… you'd let us go?"
"Of cour—"
*"Are you stupid?!" the Captain snapped, cutting Canis off.
He turned, glaring at his own team—fury burning in his eyes.
"He killed one of our men. And you're ready to walk away because he's feeling merciful? Where's your pride? Where's the pride of the ones we lost?"
"Captain, we—"
"Don't give me that. This all started because of you guys. I killed your comrade, yeah—and I won't apologize. It was a warning. A message. I can kill you. I chose not to. Don't forget that."
Silence. Then the Captain stepped forward, resolute.
"If you want to leave, leave. But if you still have a shred of dignity—stand and fight. Right here. Right now."
The agents looked at each other.
Then the swordsman stepped up.
"Our mission is to bring Aron Telsa in. Alive."
"An AIA agent would rather die than fail," said the gunner.
"I'm in."
"Me too."
"Same."
One by one, they committed. The fire was back in their eyes.
The Captain didn't smile. He just stared ahead at Canis.
"I'm not dying until I've killed you both—with my own hands."
Canis grinned.
"That's the spirit. But you'll lose anyway."
---
How many are there again? Eleven?
Small number… but in my current state… I've lost most of my power. Still...
I can fight with bare hands. My Kanuragan is still flowing strong.
More than enough to finish this in seconds.
But… wouldn't that be boring?
I'm curious. Let's see what these guys can actually do.
"Hey Mister… you seriously gonna fight all of them?"
"Doesn't look like there's another option. Can you help even the odds?"
"Uh… I've never fought before."
"Then what's that in your hand?"
I pointed at the object he clutched. Looked like a weapon—wrapped in cloth, but the shape was unmistakable.
"It's a gun… I've never used it."
"Gun?"
Times really had changed. There were too many things I didn't know now.
"You don't know? It's like a bow and arrow—but it fires metal balls at high speed."
"I… don't get it."
As we talked, something flew toward me at blinding speed. My sixth sense screamed—just in time.
I tilted my head.
A tiny metal ball whizzed past, barely missing me.
"What the hell was that?"
I turned. The guy with the gun had fired.
"That's a gun, Mister! Just like I said!"
"Huh… dangerous little thing."
A moment slower and I'd be leaking brain matter. Still, kind of impressive.
"Damn it, he dodged it!"
"That has to be Sixth Sense. How strong is his Kanuragan?"
The swordsman rushed in. Gunfire followed. I weaved around the bullet, calm as ever.
The blade came next—twin-edged, long, deadly. He spun midair, aiming straight for my neck.
I could dodge. But why not do something cool?
I caught the blade—with my bare hand.
"What?!"
Gasps echoed. Even his teammates were stunned.
"This is getting fun," I said, blood dripping from my palm. Pain. Sharp—but nostalgic.
I pulled the sword toward me—then drove a fist into his face. Not full power. Just enough.
He flew backward, past his team, crashing out of the cave.
"Still too strong, huh?"
Now their captain stepped forward. Steady. Focused.
"I saw that. You held back."
"You noticed?"
"Why?"
I smiled.
"It's called the Mercy of the Strong."
{Chapter 4 End}