The acrid taste of dust and blood filled Keiji's mouth as he pushed himself up from the shallow crater. Each movement sending jolts of agony through his battered frame. His vision shaky and uneven, but clear enough to see Nishi approaching, hands casually tucked into his pockets, an unreadable smirk playing on his lips.
The sheer, oppressive aura Nishi exuded was a physical weight, making the air thick and hard to breathe.
"Why did I hit him… Why…" Keiji's own words echoed in his mind, a desperate, confused whisper against the storm of pain and Nishi's overwhelming presence. He'd acted on an impulse, a surge of defiance he hadn't known he possessed, and the consequences were now starkly clear.
Nishi stopped a few feet away, his green eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and predatory interest. "An excellent question, Keiji," he said, his voice smooth and unbothered, as if they were discussing the weather rather than the brutal beating he'd just administered. "Why did you hit me? Was it some noble, misguided attempt to protect those villagers? A sudden surge of heroic foolishness?"
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that held no warmth. "Or perhaps," Nishi leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharpening, "it was something truer to your core. A flicker of your own desire, perhaps? A taste of what it means to act on instinct, to lash out against what confines you?"
Keiji coughed, spitting out a glob of bloody saliva. "I… I don't know," he stammered, his voice hoarse. His arms, which he'd used to block Nishi's monstrous blows, throbbed with a deep, bone-jarring ache. He felt like every inch of him was bruised or broken.
"Don't you?" Nishi tilted his head, his smirk widening.
"You felt a spark, didn't you? A moment where you were the one dictating terms, however briefly. That, Keiji, is the essence of power. The will to impose yourself upon the world." He gestured dismissively at the surrounding area, the shattered building, the terrified, hidden eyes of the villagers they both knew were watching. "These people, their pathetic peace… it's an illusion, maintained by their weakness. You, by striking me, were challenging an order. My order."
Nishi took another step closer, crouching down to Keiji's eye level. The red heat of his cursed energy seemed to shimmer around him, a visible promise of further violence. "You're wondering if you did the 'right' thing. There is no right or wrong, Keiji. There is only what you want, and what you are strong enough to take." His voice dropped to a near whisper, intense and compelling. "That fear you feel? That pain? That's the crucible. It burns away the dross, the weakness. What attacked me was not the timid boy from the village. It was something… stronger."
Keiji looked away, unable to meet Nishi's gaze. The man's words were like poison, seeping into his mind, twisting his confusion into something darker. Had it been his own desire? He remembered the surge of adrenaline, the fleeting sense of control… and the overwhelming terror that followed.
"The officer," Nishi said, his tone shifting, almost casual now as he stood up, glancing towards the street. "He's still out there, isn't he? A loose end. An example of the 'order' these weaklings cling to." He looked back at Keiji, a glint in his eye. "Perhaps your first real lesson should involve him."
Keiji's head snapped up, eyes wide with a fresh wave of horror. "What? You can't…"
Nishi laughed. "You can't? Are you still clinging to those pathetic attachments? To the idea that some lives are worth more than others based on some arbitrary moral code?" He shook his head. "Everyone is a tool, Keiji. Or a stepping stone. That officer is an obstacle. And obstacles," Nishi's smile turned feral, "are meant to be removed. Crushed."
He began to walk towards the street, not even looking back to see if Keiji followed. "Come. Your education continues. Let's see if you can channel that flicker of defiance into something more… productive. Or perhaps you'd prefer to remain here, wallowing in your weakness and regret."
Keiji remained on the ground for a moment, his body screaming in protest, his mind a whirlwind of Nishi's toxic philosophy and his own shattered sense of self. The gap Nishi had spoken of wasn't just in power; it was a chasm in understanding, in worldview. And Nishi was determined to drag him across it.
With a groan, pulling on every ounce of his remaining strength, Keiji slowly, painfully, pushed himself to his feet. His legs trembled, threatening to buckle. He looked at his hands, still shaking, and then in the direction Nishi had gone. The thought of what Nishi intended for the officer, and what he intended for him, filled Keiji with a cold dread.
Yet… a tiny, insidious part of him, the part that had lashed out, the part that Nishi was so keen on nurturing, felt a perverse curiosity. A horrifying pull towards the abyss Nishi represented.
"Fight for what you want, fight for control, fight to fight!" Nishi's earlier words echoed.
Taking a ragged breath, Keiji stumbled forward, following the monster who was rapidly becoming his master. The path ahead was one of blood and pain, he knew. But Nishi had also promised power. And a twisted, terrifying part of Keiji was beginning to wonder what that power felt like, unchained.
Nishi, meanwhile, had already reached the edge of the field. He paused, glancing back at Keiji's struggling form. A flicker of something – satisfaction? – crossed his face. Good, he thought. The desperation is a fertile ground. Soon, he'll understand. He'll break, and then he'll become strong. Or he'll shatter completely. Either way, it will be… entertaining. His mind briefly touched on his own goals: regaining his full might, reverse cursed technique, and feeling the exhilarating rush of a black flash once again. These new "recruits" were merely tools, practice. Keiji, however, showed a certain… malleability. Perhaps he could be shaped into something truly useful. Or a spectacular failure. The outcome was almost irrelevant; the process was the true reward.
***
The officer, a man named Tanaka, was indeed still in the vicinity. He was a local, a man in his late forties with a weathered face and a sense of duty that far outweighed his actual capabilities against a threat like Nishi. He'd seen the commotion, heard the crash as Keiji was sent flying, and had been trying to radio for backup from the nearest larger town, his hands shaking slightly as he clutched the radio. His small village wasn't equipped for this level of violence. He'd also been attempting to usher the few brave, or foolish, onlookers to safety.
As Nishi stepped onto the road, Tanaka visibly tensed. The sheer malevolence rolling off Nishi was unlike anything he'd ever encountered. It was a primal fear, the kind that bypassed reason and went straight for the spine.
"You again," Tanaka said, his voice attempting a firmness it didn't possess. He took a step back, his hand instinctively going to the old service revolver at his hip, a weapon that felt utterly inadequate. "I told you to leave. You're causing a disturbance, and you've assaulted that young man."
Nishi smiled, a slow, predatory stretching of his lips. "Disturbance? I am merely providing a… practical demonstration." He jerked his head slightly, indicating Keiji, who was now limping a few paces behind him, a wretched figure of pain and fear. "My pupil here is a bit slow on the uptake. He requires vigorous encouragement."
"Pupil?" Tanaka's brow furrowed. He looked from Nishi's confident, dangerous stance to Keiji's battered form. "What in God's name are you talking about? That boy needs a doctor!"
"God?" Nishi chuckled, the sound grating. "An interesting concept. Tell me, officer, which god condones this stagnation you call peace? Which deity champions the mundane and the weak?" He took a step forward, and Tanaka flinched, his hand tightening on his holstered weapon.
"Stay back!" Tanaka warned, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm armed!"
Nishi's smile widened. "Oh, I'm counting on it. It makes the lesson more… impactful." He glanced over his shoulder at Keiji. "Observe, Keiji. The 'authority' of this world. A man with a piece of metal, convinced it gives him power. Pathetic, isn't it?"
Keiji said nothing, his eyes darting between the terrified officer and the terrifyingly calm Nishi. He felt trapped, a spectator to a horror show he was somehow also a part of. His stomach churned, and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth was a constant reminder of his own vulnerability.
"Now, officer," Nishi continued, his attention returning to Tanaka, his voice dropping to a deceptively soft tone. "You have a choice. You can attempt to uphold your meaningless laws, try to arrest me, perhaps even try to shoot me. That would be… amusing. Or, you can recognize the futility of your position, discard that useless weapon, and walk away. Live to enforce another pointless rule another day."
Tanaka swallowed hard. His training screamed at him to de-escalate, to call for backup, but the nearest backup was twenty minutes away, an eternity when facing a monster like Nishi. His duty, however, compelled him to stand his ground. "I am an officer of the law. I cannot allow you to continue terrorizing these people and harming that boy."
"Terrorizing?" Nishi feigned a look of surprise. "I am liberating them. Showing them the true nature of existence. Strength is the only law that matters." He took another deliberate step. "And you, officer, are demonstrably not strong."
The air crackled with tension. Keiji could feel the officer's fear, a palpable wave that mingled with his own. He saw the slight tremor in Tanaka's hand as it hovered near his gun. He saw the beads of sweat on the man's forehead. And he saw Nishi, a coiled viper, ready to strike, savoring every moment of the officer's fear.
This is it, Keiji thought, a cold dread seeping into his bones. This is the lesson.