Chapter 7: An Exercise To Fight
The topmost floor of the boys' hostel has a nasty reputation. Endless suicides and freak accidents plagued the floor for decades and a myth soon developed around it - Haunted.
So, Yohan found it to be convenient and occupied the entire floor all by himself, as other students and even the management became wary of that out of fear. And now he gave a share of that to Ramika.
"I can't sneak in every evening, hiding from the boys... Good thing that there's a shower room for every floor," lamented Ramika to the disinterested Yohan who was swiping his phone, looking out for suits.
After remaining mum, he finally spoke. "Seems like there's a cheap store nearby renting suits for low prices... I'll go and check upon them. You be ready with that silver gown—"
"Is it necessary?"
"Yes. Those fuckers have a strict code and had to maintain them diligently if they want to remain a secret... Silver gown, I'll go and fetch a suit."
Yohan left, walking all alone in the hallway, leaving Ramika alone. From a distance, a pair of eyes observed all of these with acute attention. But the eyes' priority was Yohan this time.
It was almost 9 at night; the time for the meeting to begin. With stylish neon billboards above and pop culture-themed performances happening across the roads while the roads were crowded by toy sellers, hookers and taxi drivers, the city looked vibrant as usual.
Not wanting to indulge in any of that, Yohan took the subway. He hopped into the metro train and paid for the ticket for the station, which was two stops away. He found himself a window seat and laid back, relaxingly thinking he will get a peaceful twenty minutes to enjoy his 'me' time.
It was short-lived. Yohan felt eagle eyes looming around him as he noticed the strange and familiar faces accompanying him on the train. It was painfully obvious that they were nothing but low-level assassins with possible maximum grades up to only 'B'.
'Not again...' he lamented, sighing and clicking his tongue. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, and snapped his neck, getting 'ready'.
"How many of you are here?" he nonchalantly asked, while he took some chewing gums out of his pockets.
Totally, ten hands were raised among the total of twelve people in the compartment. The contempt felt by Yohan on seeing their appearances had no bounds.
Mohawk haircuts, poorly drawn fake tattoos, knockoff brand clothes, and rubber toys disguised as jewels, Yohan was distraught and disappointed at seeing the new generation of assassins trying to be edge lords.
"You're going to pay for what you did!" a man with a bright yellow jacket and pink-coloured hair, which was semi-shaved, confidently said, with a grumpy face.
"My lord... Is that what the underworld has turned into? Guys, come on... This is not looking cool. The most skilled assassin I knew wore only 'uncle' clothes throughout his career. A checked shirt, old-school pants... Jeez! You guys are misguided terribly."
"Stop talking! Get ready to get your ass whooped..." another guy came forward, mouthing 'edgy for the sake of being edgy' quotes.
Others joined him too, crying the same war cry.
"Face your fear, asshole... You're going to be sorry..." another laughed out, with a fake accent.
Glaring with dead eyes, Yohan adjusted his usual sunglasses, so they don't fall and threw the six chewing gums on his hand all at once into his mouth.
"Shall we?" he muttered, standing up from his seat.
Wasting no moment, all the low-level assassins launched against Yohan in that narrow space inside the compartment.
Smiling inwardly, Yohan knocked the air out of the yellow-haired punk, punching him right into his chest with his open palm, delivering a crushing palm strike.
Like a bowling ball hitting the pins, the punk fell back to his mates behind him, clearing them out of the way as he flew back all the way to the end. The other assassins were forced to move to the sides, stunned by the sheer strength of Yohan.
'But he looks like a school kid...' was their thought.
"How about this? I'm not going to use any flashy tricks... Just clean hand to hand. Are you guys up for it?"
Eyes of the assassins flared up by the mockery and they again tried to pounce on Yohan, all at once. A lot of blows were made, but none landed. The space of the compartment only allowed three guys to stand together and Yohan used it to his advantage.
Yohan snapped the elbow of the first guy in front of him and pushed him to the metal rod in the middle, smashing his face. He then grabbed the forehands of the other two and pulled them against each other, while he rapidly punched their ribs, breaking them and rendering them immovable for a while.
Four down already and only six to go. Yohan stepped back, allowing the remaining to march forwards as they try to land at least a single blow on Yohan. Yohan kept walking back facing them, confidently evading their punches, much to their frustration.
"I am getting late, guys... let's end this."
He then kicked hard on the legs of the other three in front of him in quick succession, breaking their lower leg and ankles; Leaving only three to stand remain who were so terrified as they stood with trembling hands and shaking legs.
They backed off, and immediately kneeled in front of Yohan, bowing down to him. Yohan stayed indifferent and simply nodded back, with his stoic face.
"Good to know... Resign soon, fellas, or get trained to read the situation. Good night to you all..."
"No sir, we were actually ordered to test you..." the one with tattooed eyes stopped Yohan. What came out of his mouth, deeply concerned Yohan.
"Ordered you to test me... Who's that idiot?"
The three looked at each other, puzzled, thinking whether to say it or not. Yohan had no patience, but he understood well that these guys are just kids.
"I'll make sure nothing happens to you...Or I'll ask someone to make sure nothing happens to you — But you'll be safe. That's a guarantee..."
The boys revealed the identity of the man who was behind them and Yohan stepped off the next station, distraught and angered as hell.
"That moron... Seems like he still didn't change his bullying ways..."
--
A FEW HOURS EARLIER--
Diana gathered all her courage, patience and resilience to stay still without getting enraged, as she sat opposite the one guy she loathed the most.
"Roach... Lance Roach... do you still remember the name, honey?" asked Lance Roach, the king of the 'Hunter Owls' Assassin guild and also the ex-boyfriend of Diana Jones.
In the lavish party crowded with popular faces and personalities, Diana was compelled to maintain her calm posture for the sake of her own clan and her current position, 'Head Of The Damage Control'.
"Yeah, I remember... Lan," she said with a sigh. Lance creepily smiled and tried to move his fingers towards Diana, yet Diana, knowing very well what he was doing, didn't mind.
"Your hands still remain the same... Pale, sexy and cursed with hundred of death—"
"At least change your pickup line, Lan... It was cringe five years back, and it's still cringe now."
"Why, so? You get turned on by blood, if I remember, so why not? Nostalgia is a good thing, right?" he caressed her fingers while letting soft moans out, much to Diana's disgust.
"Remember that we are at war, Lance..."
Lance immediately backed off as his face turned grumpy and serious. His green eyes shined and his wolf teeth peeked out.
"You should have stayed with me... Should have remained as my plaything. Sad that your father found out everything..."
"About your schemes, and plans to overthrow my father? Yeah, he did find out. And I was shocked as well."
Lance felt Diana's razor-sharp glare penetrating through him, shuddering him.
"Oooh, that eyes... Yeah, I mean, duh. A wolf in a relationship with a vampire? Of course, there will be some hidden agendas. What else do you think?" he chuckled, while Diana was gritting her teeth in silence.
'If I could, I would smash his head open... Sucks, that I am in a much lower position than him...'
"There was a guy, though... who truly loved me without expecting anything. You even had him beaten, remember? BEATEN... wait. Was it him or you? Who beat who?"
Lance's eyes twitched in anger as he controlled his rising fury, listening to Diana while tapping the table repeatedly to calm him. And to make it worse, Diana openly smirked at him, sledging him. That was when an interesting idea popped into her head.
"Do you know something? He is actually... returning. Returning to 'Me'. Back to the underworld and back to me..." she lied to her teeth, wanting to see the desperation in Lance's eyes. And as she expected, Lance was on the verge of losing it and she enjoyed the sight, smiling like a psychopath hungry for blood.
"No way, Diana... If he's miffed with anyone, it must be you—"
"Oh, come on, Lance... Don't you know the cliche? Love wins everything... Even anger. He truly feels it... If you don't believe me, try checking up on the guest list. He is on the way, arriving here... must be searching for a suit, I guess..." her eyes lit up with enjoyment, as she witnessed Lance squirming and losing himself to his wolf's anger because of the ego.
"He won't arrive on time! Maybe dead on arrival... You'll see—"
"Do you remember the spelling of his name? Y. O. H. A. N... Just try to see the guest list and you can send your men..." she said with a smirk, as she left the seat immediately, leaving Lance feeling humiliated while herself feeling happy and thrilled.
She found herself a new purpose.
'Now, we'll see how you face your old enemies, Yohan... I'll make sure you go through the most painful journey ever... This is my purpose. A purpose to give your eternal torment.'
Chapter 8: Welcome Back Yohan...
Warning... Too talkative
----------------------------------
It was sudden. Before she even asked anything regarding the trip, Yohan simply avoided her questions and only instructed her to accompany him on the bus.
And here she was accompanying him on a bus with no travelling along with them. He was wearing a black suit with a black shirt, black pants and black shoes, while she was dressed in a shiny white gown.
There were at least five seat gaps between them and both of them were sitting on opposite sides. Ramika was seated on the right side third seat, while Yohan was far behind her on the left side.
"Are you up for a conversation?" she asked, bored of the defeating silence that was going on for almost an hour.
Yohan nodded, allowing her to initiate a talk, while he was rubbing his nape, annoyed.
"Why do you have so many names?"
"Names? Like plural? I never knew that—"
"Grim Reaper, Ghost, The One, Immortal, Devilman, Uncrowned King... There are countless, actually."
Yohan sighed, clicking his tongue and tapping his feet. Thinking deeply to himself, he spoke after a short silence.
"Well... those are not mine. Those names belong to different persons..."
"Different persons? Like DIFFERENT?"
"Yes... different. Those are different individuals. And those are their names—"
"Then why they are calling you using those? All these were used synonymously with the Uncrowned King—"
"Stop saying that! Sounds awful. I... I can't really explain it to you that well, but those names belong to some excellent assassins of the underworld... Grim-Reaper, Ghost... They earned those titles with their achievements. Legends," Yohan firmly said before whispering, "It's just collateral," while his face dimmed down saying that.
Ramika observed Yohan with her frowning eyes and she sensed something was off but couldn't put a finger on it.
"So, you're not the grim-reaper?"
"Nope."
"The one who tried to assassinate Brooke Wilson?"
"Absofuckinglutely not! That's the legend I was talking about—"
"Midland Party Assassination?"
"Who is spreading such outrageous theories? NO!"
Ramika almost felt her brain melting and not able to take the frustration, she yelled out at Yohan.
"THEN WHY THE FUCK DO THEY CALL YOU A KING? WHAT THE HECK DID YOU EVEN DO IN THE UNDERWORLD?"
A strong silence followed. Yohan flinched away from facing Ramika as he dropped his chin to the ground. Ramika understood Yohan wouldn't answer that, but not before wasting her time waiting for him to answer her.
She turned away and pouted in anger, miffed at Yohan. She took a green-coloured tin can and opened it, with a *whoosh* sound of the soda dripping out. She took a sip and clicked her tongue, feeling the carbonated drink.
"Soda? Do you have another?"
Ramika said nothing back and just threw another can of soda towards Yohan, whose slippery hands failed to catch it.
"Careful with that, will you? Good thing, it didn't break open—"
"You're an elite assassin and you don't know to catch a can of soda?"
"I was nothing but a clerk... And I'm clumsy as hell, so don't rely on me often."
*whoosh* the side dripped out, as Yohan opened it. He only took a sip but spat it out immediately, panicking. He tasted something familiar, and the scent was something familiar.
"Did you buy the soda? or..."
"Sana gave it to me... You know the girl with spectacles—"
"You are chased by an army of assassins and you still received freebies from others?" he berated her, breathing heavily and his eyes wandering.
"She's my frie—wait. Whoa! Why my head is feeling dizzy?"
Ramika saw her vision getting fuzzy and her sense of hearing getting dead. She felt her knees losing its life and her chest beat faster than ever.
"Am I getting assassinated, Yohan? Is it poisoned or something?"
"Don't worry... we're just getting captured. The drink is laced with a certain... kind of anaesthesia..."
*THUD* Ramika fell out of her seat, cold and out. Yohan, too, felt his strength to stay awake, losing out to the drink. He sighed and looked annoyed as his eyes slowly blacked out.
"Goddamn, that woman..."
*THUD*
--
In a totally different place, which was dark and devoid of light, Yohan slowly opened his eyes, gaining consciousness. Then he realized he was actually blindfolded and handcuffed from behind. The first sound he heard using his recovering sense of hearing was a muffled noise of someone gagging.
'Must be Ramika. Guess she got her mouth plastered with tape or something...'
A soft sound of heels walking around was heard, and it was getting close to him with each step.
"How was the normal life, Yohan?" a seductive yet familiar voice hissed to Yohan's ears, evoking a smile mixed with contempt from him.
"Haa... It was you. Diana—" Yohan halted as he felt his blindfold being ripped off forcibly, exposing his eyes to the bright light above him.
The bright light above blinded him for a moment and it took a while for him to adjust after being in the dark for a while. But it was not easy for a man like Yohan. He tightly shut his eyelids and fumed.
"GOSH! If it's you... then you would know better that I have a certain condition—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know... I'm actually getting your sunglasses back, don't worry."
A pair of hands caressed his cheeks for a second while they were at putting the sunglasses on his face. Yohan opened his eyes and took a good look at the woman standing before him through the glasses.
"So... how do I look?" asked Diana, the woman standing before Yohan, with a bright smile but in a shocking attire.
"Where are your... clothes?"
Diana chuckled, giggling with her hands covering her mouth.
"Well, I had an urgent appointment a few minutes before... Had to seduce an old bastard and slit his throat. So... did the work and took a bath—"
"You can still wrap yourself with a long coat or a bathrobe... Please, do that."
Diana sighed disappointingly. She gestured at her henchmen to bring a bathrobe and wrapped herself.
Yohan, though kind of overwhelmed, still observed the surrounding in a matter of seconds. It was a dim castle and a room mirroring a *Royal Court*. A pair of old monks dressed in judge attire sitting on their respective royal seats behind Diana and guards armed with melee weapons positioned around the room, and importantly, Ramika, who was blindfolded and plastered with tape around her mouth, sitting on his left.
"Ramika... Good to know that you're still alive," he muttered to himself, still audible for Ramika, who was mumbling with her muffled mouth and struggling to break free of the handcuffs.
"So... did you read the room? I mean, it's obvious and natural—"
"I am in a trial. Why?"
A small smirk escaped from Ramika's lips at Yohan's question. She walked all the way to the empty seat decorated like a throne, which was in the middle, between the monks.
"You see... We don't have the same influence on the Underworld as before. We lost our individuality and had to suck up to the officials to survive and keep our place in the Underworld."
Yohan silently listened, sighing in between as some of it had happened solely because of him and him alone.
Diana continued,
"Had to lobby hard to secure this post... Head Of Damage Control. This clan survives purely because of my position and the Underworld's need for security and stuff. But we do have loyalists. It was a hassle, but these two old bastards are the ones I can gather for now, so that I can do as I wish in this trial for you—"
"Aww! You do have a good heart. I am really indebted to your—"
"Nope. This way, I can torture you on *my* terms and have a strong hand in your judgement."
Yohan wanted to slap himself hard for even speculating something good from Diana. He sighed deeply and nodded to himself while lamenting.
"Of course, of course... Okay, whatever, I'll comply, but just leave the girl out of this, okay? It's a plea. A request—"
"Do you really think, you are in a position to make demands, Yon? I don't think so... Good thing that Lance found you easily. Still a prick."
While keeping a straight face and glued towards Yohan, Diana snapped her fingers at her guards and they immediately rushed to grab Ramika and drag her in front of Yohan.
"Agree to the terms and I'll think of sparing her."
"What an ex-assassin can even do for... Damage control? Is the name right?"
"Yeah, it is. Just... Agree—" Diana halted on her own, as she felt a sharp glare penetrating her from Yohan. She felt the aura of death whirling around him as she understood Yohan was not in a good mood to agree.
"Should I ask politely? Please... Agree? Does that sound good?"
"To what? I am not interested in returning to that blood-stained life... You guys can keep that to yourself. Leave me alone—" Yohan felt interrupted as he saw Diana breaking into loud laughter, as she pressed her hands against her tummy, trying to hold back her laughter.
"I'm sorry... I'm — Why don't you listen to me? I mean... If you want peace, doesn't that require the world to be in peace too?"
Yohan frowned and blinked, confused by the absurd question.
"Elaborate..."
*WHOOOSH!*
Diana dashed off like a bolt of lightning and brought her face alarmingly close to Yohan. His messy black hair bounced from the wind that came from his ex-fiancee's super speed.
He felt her breathing up close and the scent of the blood she drank nauseated him.
"If you want your peaceful life to remain peaceful... You need to keep the madness from the other side in check. And for your information, the madness on this *other* side is NOT IN CHECK!"
Yohan calmly took the words while Diana brought her lips close to his, almost touching them.
"Come back, Yohan... If you want to save your peaceful world."
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