"My legs are feeling tired."
Hao found a tunnel beneath a bridge to shelter from the rain. The area was deserted except for a few rats he spotted scurrying around. The dirty state of the place was off-putting; there was garbage strewn about, human faeces piled in corners, filthy walls, and a deep, stinking drain coursing through the centre. Hao peeked inside the drain and thought he saw something moving. He quickly recoiled, hesitating to take another look into the uninviting space.
Much to his surprise, the puppy followed him inside the tunnel. It wasn't until after he found a clean enough carton box, laid it out on the ground, and sat down with his back against the wall that he sensed the puppy approaching. They greeted each other warmly, and the pup snuggled up against him, seeking comfort and warmth.
Together, they listened to the rain pelting around them, the sound both soothing and melancholic. For a moment, they were able to forget their troubles, finding solace in each other's company. In the cold, damp tunnel beneath the bridge, Hao and the puppy found a temporary refuge from the hardships of their lives, united by their shared struggle to survive in a harsh world.
At the same time elsewhere, the three thugs who had stolen Judgment Day from Hao made their way to a large warehouse on the outskirts of the district. The interior of the warehouse had a dim ambience, with a vast array of mechanical elements, scraps, old robotics, spare parts, and a bin of broken blades piled high. The air was heavy with the smell of grease and metal, an exemplification of the skilled Blade Engineer who called the place home.
Seated behind a counter tinkering with a complex-looking device was the leader of the group, a colossus of a woman reigning from her metallic throne: a custom-built wheelchair. Her underlings paled in comparison to her size and presence. Despite being in the wheelchair, she was well over seven feet tall, her actual height only diminished by a quarter due to her seated position. Her upper body, a monument to strength and endurance, showcased bulging muscles that appeared chiselled from the very bedrock of the Earth. Those mighty arms donned a pair of multifunctional gauntlets, capable of transforming to tackle any task thrown her way.
As she rolled out from behind the counter, her lower half was revealed. From the knees down, her legs were replaced by an artistic fusion of sharp, silvery, double-edged swords. These lethal extensions of her body tapered down to menacing points, proudly displaying her identity – "Vicky" engraved on the right blade, and "Gonzalez" etched into the left. Her ragged clothes hung loosely on her imposing frame, doing little to diminish her intimidating presence. The gauntlet on her left hand held a secret – the ability to morph into a submachine gun at her command, ready to unleash a hailstorm of bullets upon anyone foolish enough to challenge her.
The three thugs – Scar, Patch, and Twist – had been working for Vicky Gonzalez for several months. They had met her in a seedy underground Blade Token gambling den, where she had saved them from a dangerous debt collector. Since then, they had been fiercely loyal to her, running errands and doing her bidding without question. However, they still couldn't shake the fear they felt in her presence.
"Boss, you won't believe what we've managed to scrape in the Wranglers District," Scar spoke with a bit of a tremor in his voice.
"We've scraped a valuable item from a clown. We think it's worth over 30,000 Blade Tokens. With your expertise in forging, you should be able to bring the price up a notch," Patch chimed in, trying to sound confident.
"Yeah, that's right, boss. We scored big today, although whenever it rains, my luck dwindles," Twist added with a nervous laugh.
Vicky raised an eyebrow at their excitement, her gaze was calm and calculating as she asked, "You scored big...?"
The three thugs exchanged uneasy glances before presenting the stolen sword to their leader.
"Gimme that!" Patch impatiently grabbed the weapon out of Scar's hand and came forward with the unknown sword. Wanting to impress his leader, he hurriedly unwrapped the cloth that had kept it hidden, revealing its dark and mysterious appearance. "Boss, take a look."
Patch, however, fell victim to the sword's unexpected curse when he grabbed the naked hilt and attempted to unsheathe it. Judgment Day reacted viciously, baring its malevolence. As he tried to pull the blade from its scabbard, Patch's body began to convulse. The slow and agonizing process of his life force being drained from him began, turning him into a dark, shadowy mass that was then absorbed by Judgment Day. Only his tattered clothes remained, hitting the warehouse floor with a soft thud. Judgment Day itself fell beside them, seemingly belching in satisfaction.
"Huh!"
"What was that?"
Shock and horror were written on everyone's faces, for they had just witnessed the horrifying fate that befell Patch. They were all bewildered, including Vicky, but this piqued her interest in the mysterious sword. She pulled out a mechanical eye monocle, which extended from her forehead and zoomed in on the unique dark scabbard. The monocle was a device that allowed her to examine items in great detail, and she noticed a faint blue glimmer within the scabbard's design.
"Twist, you try," Vicky commanded.
"A-alright…" Fear gripped Twist as he approached the sword. He glanced back and forth between Vicky and Scar while trembling. Reluctantly, he picked up Judgment Day and attempted to unsheathe it, foolishly disregarding what had just happened to Patch.
The same gruesome fate that had claimed Patch now took Twist as well. His absorption was more brutal and gory, blood splattering the floor as his body disintegrated. Judgment Day fell to the ground once more with a hungry thud, as if thirsting for more.
"What the hell is up with that bloody sword!?" Scar quickly retreated to the entrance of the warehouse, his lips shaking and his face pale.
"Interesting..." Vicky ignored Scar's outburst. She used a grasper, a mechanical attachment that extended from her right arm, to carefully pick up Judgment Day. The grasper had several fingers, each made of reinforced metal, and it easily held the sword without her needing to touch it. As expected, Judgment Day had no effect on her through the grasper.
She placed the sword on a workbench under a large magnifying lens, where she meticulously analysed the scabbard. She was careful not to touch it directly, using various tools to manipulate it under the lens.
"Huh, this is...?" Vicky discovered a unique seal on the scabbard that she hadn't noticed before. It was intricate and faint, barely visible to the naked eye.
"This is Bio Esp!" Vicky's countenance portrayed an astonished glow before it twisted into a frightening expression as she pondered the implications. It was as if her eyes were about to pop from her skull.
"Do you know what it is, boss?" Scar, his fear momentarily forgotten, slowly approached the workbench to investigate, his curiosity now piqued by Vicky's reaction.
Vicky continued to analyse Judgment Day on her workbench beneath the lens. Her brow furrowed as she studied the peculiar scabbard. Scar, drawn by curiosity, approached cautiously as he listened to Vicky's musings. "This sword's scabbard is of a peculiar design, a unique Blade Engineering craft, formidable and dangerous, moreover, long forgotten."
"What does that all mean, boss?" Scar inquired, eager to know more about the sword that had just claimed the lives of his two friends.
Vicky didn't answer, instead fixing her inquisitive eyes on Scar as she asked, "Where did you say you found this sword again?"
"We came across this blindfold-wearing kid in the denser part of the slums of Wranglers district. He had another sword with him, but we decided to steal this one instead because it looked more valuable." He gestured towards Judgment Day. "The clown just handed it over without any fuss. He didn't look that competent either, maybe he was scared of us..." he assumed wrongly.
"Hmm…?" Vicky's thoughts became a lit fuse of ideas as she further analysed Judgment Day's scabbard. Coming out of the cloud of her head, she spoke to her minion, "Find that person and bring him to me right away. I want him alive."
"Yes, boss!" Scar assented resolutely, stepping over the blood-splattered floor that belonged to his now-deceased friends. He left the warehouse, intent on scrounging up some extra muscle before they headed out on a hunt for the blindfold-wearing youth.
"I'm going to make that brat pay for tricking us with that sword. The boss said she wants him alive, which means I can beat him to the brink of death. Hu-ha-ha!" Scar's sinister laughter rolled off his chapped lips.
He ventured into the heart of the Wranglers district seeking out the best of the underbelly to aid with his mission, the grime and grit of the area a familiar sight. He walked through a dingy alleyway then later stopped at a rundown shack where the smell of stale beer and sweat mingled in the air. It was here he knew he would find the muscle he needed. The shack's wooden panels were worn down and barely holding together. Inside, he found a motley crew of sword-wielding misfits, each one more fearsome than the last. With swords ranging from sleek and deadly to ornate and ceremonial. They were eager to prove themselves. They gathered around Scar, waiting for him to divulge the contents of their mission.
Among the group was a slender man wielding a curved sword with intricate etchings along its blade, a fierce-looking woman with a matching pair of daggers strapped to her hips, and a hulking brute of a man clutching a colossal greatsword as though it weighed no more than a feather.
As for Scar, he reached for his signature Blade Edge, which hung on the wall of the shack. It was shaped like an extended meat cleaver, boasting two similar rectangular blades and a retractor in the middle that allowed it to open and close like scissors. He called it Scissor Cleaver. The weapon was a fearsome sight to behold, its wicked edges were ready to cut apart some meat.
Scar surveyed the group with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was pleased with the assorted crew assembled before him. He knew they would be useful in capturing the blindfold-wearing youth.
"So, what's the plan?" Asked the slender man, idly twirling his curved sword while the silvery surface reflected his crude face. He went by the name Silas; his quick, precise movements spoke of his expertise in combat.
Scar looked at the fierce woman with the pair of daggers strapped to her hips. She was known as Raven and her reputation for being a ruthless, cold-hearted killer preceded her. She arched an eyebrow, her eyes showing a dangerous curiosity.
"The plan is simple," Scar began, scanning the group. "We find this kid and bring him back to the boss. She wants him alive."
The hulking brute of a man who was called Boulder, shifted his weight while he held onto his colossal greatsword. "And if the kid puts up a fight?" he asked in a deep rumble tone that seemed to vibrate through the shack.
Scar smirked and replied, "Then we show him why he should have stayed scared. But remember, alive."
The group assented, then they prepared to embark on their mission. Scar watched as Silas, Raven, Boulder and a handful of other thugs exchanged glances, there was a sort of silent understanding forming among them. Failure was not an option.
"Alright, let's move out," Scar ordered, leading the group from the shack.
With their mission clear and their weapons at the ready, Scar and his gang ventured into the pouring rain, their search for the blindfold youth was taking them deeper into the depth of the Wranglers District. The rain fell in heavy sheets, drenching them as they navigated the narrow, winding alleys. They wore no thick layers of clothing to shield them from the downpour, as they were a group that relished the wetness – it was a reminder of the harsh environment they thrived in. Rain was a metaphor for their lives, washing away any pretence of comfort or warmth.
As they made their way through the district, the rain-soaked buildings seemed to weep around them, their crumbling facades reflecting the despair that had seeped into the very core of this place. The group moved with a purpose, their imposing figures were discerned by the residents who lived there.
Scar and his crew interrogated several passers-by, their ugly demeanour and gruff voices caused most of them to shrink back in fear. They were relentless in their pursuit. Their ruthless nature became more apparent in the way they treated those they came across.
"Hey, you!" Scar barked at a scrawny man clutching a tattered umbrella. "Have you seen a kid with a blindfold, carrying a black sword?"
The man hesitated, visibly shaking under the pressure of Scar's gaze. "N-no, I-I haven't seen anyone like that, sir." he stammered.
Scar spat into a puddle then moved on to the next individual, his crew was following closely behind. Their search continued until they approached a frightened woman holding her child dearly to her chest.
"You better tell me if you've seen that kid, or else," Raven threatened, her tone as cold and unyielding as the rain. The woman's eyes filled with tears, but she shook her head, unable to offer any information.
"Damn! It seems nobody knows anything."
Their frustration grew as their search prolonged, but eventually, they stumbled upon a lead. A trembling old man revealed that he had seen a blindfolded youth carrying a sword pass by half an hour ago. The revelation set the group into motion, their vigour was renewed.
"Come on! We have to catch up with him before he vanishes completely from our radar."
Scar's gang became more aggressive as they closed in on their target. They were storming through the Wranglers district like a violent tempest. They were the embodiment of the chaos that plagued this area, meaning, they would not rest until they had found their prey.
At the same time, Hao was huddled beneath a bridge with the stray puppy snuggled against his chest for warmth. They lay on a makeshift bed of cardboard boxes, shivering from the cold but finding solace in each other's presence. Hao was unaware that he had become the target of a group of unscrupulous characters, his focus solely on the small creature that had found its way into his heart. The foul stench of the filthy tunnel did not seem to bother them.
Scar and his gang continued their ruthless pursuit throughout the rain-filled expanse, their path illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning that streaked across the sky. They would not stop until they had captured Hao.
With every step they took, the storm appeared to intensify, like the very heavens were joining them in their relentless hunt. The rain showed no sign of letting up, hence the streets of the Wranglers district became a battleground where Vicky's fearsome crew waged a war against the elements in search of their quarry.
While Hao lay there, the sound of the rain lulled him into a deeper slumber, and the steady drumming of the raindrops against the concrete provided a soothing backdrop to his dreams. All the while being unaware of the danger that was steadily closing in.