At this moment, as I reach the same number of chapters that the first Kumite had, I look back... this has really come a long way. I've struggled with motivation the entire time, from the moment I've started, to now. I don't know how I keep going. I'm aware the story is a disaster. It's a total cluster. It's shiftless, omni-directional... I'm sure nobody knows what the hell is going on, who is doing what, or what the evil plans even are.
But you guys are still here. This story still has your tremendous support. So, as I write chapter 43, and match the chapter count of my first Ultimate Grand Dream Kumite... I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. You're what keeps me going.
Without further ado, enjoy the final chapter before Round 3.
EARLIER THAT DAY...
"The Sky Noah's off-limits. Get lost."
Germany's own Silber was currently in a heated confrontation with a mysterious cloaked woman: claiming to be a saleswoman. She had tried to enter the fortress, upon which he stopped her at the door.
"Please, if I could just talk to the lord of the ship..." the woman spoke, her voice slightly muffled by a pink burka she wore over her head. "I specialize in tapestries. I can place an order from him, all the way from India..."
"We're not interested in your god damn tapestries." Silber grunted, his voice showing utter disrespect. "Now piss off before I break...!"
WHOOOSH!
A pink wave fluttered in his face, temporarily obstructing his vision. Silber quickly tore it away; upon seeing again, he was met with the shimmer of a murderous scimitar, and the scowling face of a female assassin named Sinclair.
"DIE!"
She twirled the sword expertly, spinning around to gather momentum for a huge swing... and she unleashed the blade upon him.
The weapon soared and struck flesh: the bare forearm of Silber, which he had raised in defense.
Sinclair's face twisted with utter disbelief. "It.. it can't be!"
No blood. Even now, as the blade clearly lodged about a half inch on the surface of his skin, it looked like the skin didn't even break.
Sinclair angrily pulled her sword back... upon which she realized, with horrified eyes, the blade had dented inwards.
Silber took a lunging step forward, thrusting a closed fist. "KIYAAAAAAH!" With one punch to the stomach, he laid out the female swordsman.
"Hyeh hyeh hyeh hyeh! Stupid woman! While she distracted the bodyguard, I've gained access inside!"
This monologuing was courtesy of a slouching, creepy little gremlin known as Genan Shiranui (no relation to Mai's clan, one would hope). The bald green demon, boasting a remarkable razor-clawed hand, had somehow crept his way into the Sky Noah while Silber was dealing with Sinclair. Now, it seemed the ambitious creature had a golden opportunity...
"Now to find this German pansy boy and shred him up! Sorry, but I got a family to feed and all. Hmm.. I wonder if he'd taste good broiled..."
Genan searched the Sky Noah, top to bottom. It didn't help that the fortress was quite big. It wasn't until he chanced upon what looked like a more sophisticated, more important door than the rest, that he finally sensed his target was close...
He slowwwwly creaked the door open... the shadows slowly faded, allowing light into the bedroom... until he could clearly see the body of Adelheid Bernstein, resting peacefully, a wet rag on his head.
He was also greeted by the sight of... well... two VERY distracting glutes, bending over to tend to the man.
"D-D-D-DAYUM, WOMAN!" he screeched. "I know who I want too put in a pot next! And I know just what parts I want to cut up!"
The woman, startled by his presence, swiftly turned around to face him. Upon seeing that she wasn't alone, she gave a respectful bow. "I'm sorry, but my Master is resting peacefully. You can't be here."
Genan's mouth leaked streams of lustful drool as he brandished his clawed hand. "Baby, I got an important job to do here! I'm gonna make some sweet money slicing him to ribbons! And then you... hehehehehe... I'll make a nice feast of you! Starting with that b-"
Another bow. "I'm sorry, but anyone who threatens my Master must die."
In a flash, Iroha lunged forward, dual butterfly knives in hand. Any sense of her warm, kindhearted professionalism... was replaced by a stone-cold instinct to kill.
"C-crap! N-now wait a minute here! Th-this was supposed to be an easy job!" Genan blubbered. "G-G-GAAAAH YOU'RE WAY TOO SEXY TO KILL ME! GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
"The assassins so far have been totally useless."
High above the rooftops of Germany, the survivors of Those From the Past, Shion and Botan, squabbled gently over the methods of achieving their goal.
"His security's tighter than expected..." Botan explained. "That man they parked in front of the door has nerves of steel. There's no way I could get my strings into him..."
Shion hissed in disapproval, his spear behind his back. "This is a waste of time. I should just go and do it myself."
Botan called his bluff with a smirk. "The fact that you haven't already says you won't. You'll just sit here... and send others to fail, like you've been doing this whole week."
Shion rolled his eyes at his partner. "Ironic words, coming from you. At least I still have an ace in the hole."
Botan's eyes narrowed. "You mean that... THING... Shroom and Rimelo brought back?"
A nod. "He may yet be something again."
A snort. "Pathetic. I can't believe you've been reduced.. to that. I'll have this job finished before you ever get it functioning."
The spear cut through the air, as Shion twirled it dangerously; Botan had to actually back up, to avoid getting grazed by it. "My strength has almost returned. I'm going to be the one to make this happen, Botan... but in the meantime, I'll keep enjoying myself, watching these idiots you bring in fail."
Botan swung her hand. "Just you wait. I put out a serious contract: bigger, better, more dangerous assassins will come."
As their argument reached its zenith... a black crow soared overhead, divebombing directly between them, fluttering over their heads. Both of them annoyedly flailed their arms, but only succeeded in swatting a few loose feathers that rained down above them.
The two of them watched, irritated, as the crow flew off into the distance.
"That damn crow is getting on my nerves." Botan snarled.
PRESENT, BACK AT THE STADIUM...
Night fell upon Allianz Arena, the audience clearing out, their appetites monstrously whetted for what would be an explosive Day 5, as only 16 contestants remained in the Twilight Tournament. Tomorrow would be the third round... until the playoffs finally began.
But for now, there was one last bit of business to be had at the soccer Stadium. Unfortunately, while things were settling down for the satisfied audience... it was only getting MORE riled up between the fighters and hostess alike.
"King... King don't! Please, don't!"
Ryo was currently trying to hold King back with both hands, but the Frenchwoman snatched herself free of his grasp and proceeded to make her way right up to where Rose was standing. Rose, though King slightly towered over her, showed no fear even as the Frenchwoman got in her face.
"May I help you?" Rose addressed, a bit of sass in her tone.
SLAP!
The Stadium lit up all at once, as King had, with no rational thought, drew her hand back and let it fly across Rose Bernstein's cheek. The hostess yelped, as she was immediately dropped to one knee, clutching her cheek in pain.
Rodem Jr. sensing its master in danger, instinctively pounced on King and started attempting to bite and claw at her. Ryo was thankfully there to pry the cat loose, and any further attempts at a scuffle were broken up by Krauser.
"PUTAIN DE SALOPE!" King spat at Rose with unrestrained curses. "YOU SHE-DEVIL! HOW COULD YOU LET VICE BACK INTO THIS TOURNAMENT! AFTER ALL THOSE WITCHES DID! AFTER ALL I... W-WE WENT THROUGH TO GET THEM OUT!"
At this point, Chizuru, Saisyu, Yuri, Robert and Ryo all formed a line in front of King, either to protect her from retaliation... or to protect Rose from any further wrath.
The hostess in question just sat there... shocked. Her eyes looking down at the ground, mouth slightly parted... frozen in animation. Her hand still plastered on her cheek.
It wasn't until seconds later, that she finally rose to her feet... and laughed.
"Hahahahahaha...thank you for your feedback, Miss King." she spoke, turning around and presenting King with a coy smile. "And how commendable of you to take advantage of my lowered security, what with Silber not here and all."
Krauser's brow furrowed. "Assaulting the hostess should be grounds for immediate disqualification!"
Rose held a hand to his chest, "No no, Mr. Krauser, it's quite alright. Miss King is just a very outspoken, impulsive individual. No need to worry: her time will come soon enough."
King felt a slight tinge of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, as the hostess's red eyes converged upon her... and a face that could only be described as sociopathic presented itself.
"See, I'm not worried about you in the slightest, Miss King. You're on borrowed time. By the end of this next round... you'll be a replay on someone's highlight reel! HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO~!"
One could swear steam was rising from King's ears as she heard those words. "Grrrr... SAY THAT AGAIN! I DARE YOU! I DOUBLE DARE YOU, LITTLE WHO-"
Ryo hastily cupped her mouth. "Okay, okay, enough of that...!"
Rose held up an alleviating hand. "Yes... enough indeed. Now then, we're all waiting for Miss Vice here to pick her opponent for Round 3, sooo... whenever you're ready, madame."
King, and the rest of the cast, finally clammed up when Vice took the center stage. Flanked by her evil twin Mature, as always, Vice gazed upon the motley crew with demeaning, insulting eyes... a playful smirk plastered on her lips.
"Yessssss... which of these worthless worms should I pick to squash? Hmmm? What do you think, dearest Mature?"
Mature and Vice began a slow, eerie pace among the fighters... circling them... like vultures sizing up a bloodied, decaying meal.
Vice's route found her crossing Saisyu's path... and her gaze lingered on him, as her hands all but touched him. "How about you, hmmmm? Ohhh I remember you... kukukukuku... I remember you well."
Saisyu maintained a stone demeanor, eyes only forward.
"I remember how I had to break you... the long, miserable hours I spent, subjugating you." Vice continued. "I hated every moment of it. I hated Rugal for making me do it."
"Don't even say his-" Saisyu tried to cut in.
"But most of all... I grew to hate you." Vice snarled. "For giving me such a hard time. For not being a good little man and bending your knee like I wanted. So maybe... kukukukuku... maybe I should give you a second chance... to submit to me, fast and hard, like you were always meant to. Maybe in Round 3, I try to improve my time in stripping you down to your most basic faculties! KUKUKUKUKUuuuu...!"
"Don't threaten him like that!" Chizuru got between them.
...But Vice just kept on walking. Her route eventually found her to the Frenchwoman... the very one who bested her with a freak knockout.
"And then there's you... hmmmph... you certainly surprised me." Vice spoke, right against her ear. King refused to budge.
"I never thought such a meaningless composition of meat and bones could ever defeat me, a goddess in luminous form." Vice carried on. "But you DID... youuu did... it seems I underestimated you greatly. Perhaps YOU are deserving of my punishment, for breaking my jaw the way you did."
"You don't have a jaw." King retorted.
Vice merely cackled. "Kukuku! Such bite to you! Well then, perhaps I've decided... I think I want-"
"Wait."
Before Vice could deliver the final verdict, Mature sharply cut in. Vice seemed to not expect it, as her face turned to slight shock. "What?"
Mature grinned at her. "Dear Vice, I think you should let me decide."
"But..."
"Trust me." Mature reassured, her voice with the same sharpness.
Vice looked like she wanted to argue... but a shift in her eyes and her body language meant she didn't. Taking a step back, she allowed Mature to step into the forefront... and the blonde Hakkeshu walked straight up to Rose.
"I want the Bernstein boy."
Rose's mouth dropped, the hostess so taken aback, she nearly stumbled over her own feet. "Y-YOU CAN'T DO THAT! Y-you...!"
Mature, sensing her vulnerability, took a step forward, getting back in her face with a wider grin. "Wasn't it you that said the winner of the Battle Royale gets to choose their opponent?"
Rose was still at a loss for words. "B-but... b-but...!"
Mature's eyes widened, to insane proportion. "Wasn't it you that said me and Vice share a single card, a single mind... a single entity? Hmmm?!"
Rose's hand was clutching her chest so hard, her dress was ruffling to the point of her bosom nearly spilling. "I..."
"So what's it gonna be hostess? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm~?" Mature circled the stiff girl, leaning in close... until her lips were caressing Rose's ear.
"Will the world know Rose Bernstein is a liar and a welcher~?"
Her heart pounded. Her eyes shut. Her mouth fought with all the power in the world to not give in... but she knew her position was hopeless. She'd allowed someone else leverage. She'd gambled on the hopes they would target anyone else... ANYONE else... particularly a loud-mouthed Frenchwoman.
But this was the worst possible scenario. They wanted her brother. And she was bound to honor it.
"Damn you! Fine!" Rose submitted. "Please excuse me! This concludes the day's events!"
The hostess, no doubt rattled, pushed past Mature and stormed out of the Stadium, not even bothering to make sure she had protection. She was in fierce self-preservation... to not let any of them see her like this. God forbid they see fearful tears.
Mature, delighted with her endeavors, snatched Vice into her arms... and they walked away, Mature cackling the entire time.
"Hahahahaha...hahahahahahaa...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
In some ways, King was jealous of what she'd just witnessed. She wished she could get under Rose's skin like that. For all her headstrong will and brazen words, she wasn't half the psychological sadist those bitches could be.
"What does that mean, Saisyu?" Chizuru, in a rare moment, unsure of the future.
Saisyu, surprisingly... had a rather selfish answer. "It means my match is in jeopardy."
LATER THAT NIGHT...
The room filled with a thick screen of steam, as the water fell on its hottest setting. No need to change the dials.
A hand, fingers spread, planted on the wall... and left no handprint.
As a scalding shower cascaded over Mature's body, she groaned at the sensation of the heat loosening her muscles, her nostrils taking in the wafting steam that obscured the entirety of the close-quarters bathroom.
It was an enjoyable shower. Every drop on her body felt good. A phantom sensation; a fraudulent nostalgia. But it was still hers... something she chose to make real.
Her azure eyes opened, as she turned to peel back the curtain and let some of the suffocating fog out...
"Ungh!"
She couldn't help but grunt, if only from being caught off-guard by the rushing aggression. Her body went backwards, until she hit solid wall; a hand found its way to her left arm, pinning her wrist against the patterned tile.
She raised her right hand in resistance; a second later, that too was subdued.
Wriggling, helpless, she felt a warm tickle on her ear, as soft lips latched onto her lobe and spoke words directly into her canal:
"You've got some nerve..."
Her body surrendered all at once, vessel and 'soul'. The stranger imposed her will with ease, slinging Mature by her captive hands and slamming her against the adjacent wall. Mature titled her head back, eyes closed... she moaned as the stranger's lips found her neck, and gently sucked the flesh under her jawline.
"You dare to defy me... to take my choice away..." the female voice spoke threateningly, as she planted small kisses across the perimeter of her neck. "I could bite your windpipe in two."
Mature tried to reach out, to feel something... ANYTHING... but the fierce stranger imposed her will, slamming the arm hard against the wall. Her lips sank DEEP into Mature's neck flesh... sucking to the extremity of hickey proportions.
"Unnnhhhh~"
"I demand an explanation for your interference... my sweet Mature." Vice spoke in a whispered tone, but with the lethality to pierce, as her lips slid over the slope of Mature's chin, until they rolled over her own lips, cutting an erratic path across her cheek, to her other ear.
Mature, paralyzed into submission, could do nothing, not even lower her head from its peaked position, nor open her eyes.
"Are you going to speak, or do I have to make you?"
"I... haaah... I..." Mature tried to form coherent words through her labored moans. "My plan... I saw something... the other night."
The lips left her ear and veered sharply downwards, carving a path down her neck, into her chest... where the steam of the shower obscured all that could never be admired by prying eyes.
"Pray tell~" the lips continued to speak through rhythmic kisses.
"The... unhhh... Bern...stein... boyyyy..."
All at once... the hands keeping Mature pinned let go. The blonde all but reached out to snatch her newfound freedom, as her hands were free to do as they wished across the naked body of her dominant partner.
"What about him?"
"I saw him, the other night, with that serial killer... there's something in him. Impure. Something that shouldn't be there."
Vice's body smooshed hard against hers, pinning her back against the wall with imposing weight. The redhead's face picked back up... until they were level, eye to eye, nose to nose... lips against lips, just light enough that words could still be spoken.
"You're saying the boy is like HIM?" Vice's words breathed into her mouth.
"Yes..." Mature nodded. "I don't know how... there's no way Orochi power could have been passed genetically onto him, unless the father was... with the kids..."
"No way." Vice shook her head. "That bastard was a lot of things, but that kind of sickness was nowhere in his soul."
"Regardless of what it may be... we can use this to our advantage. An extra contingency. Something to give us an even greater edge." Mature spoke more calmly now.
Vice's lips curved wide, as she briefly retracted her face, to give Mature breathing room. "Speak."
Mature's own lips, in return, curved to match her devious smile. "I'm going to torture that boy. Make him feel true Hell. I'm going to push him to his absolute limit... until he becomes something terrifying. Something he doesn't want to be."
Vice's eyes perked. "And the world is going to witness this... their golden boy, channeling the power of evil, tarnishing his pure image in front of his esteemed natives?"
Mature nodded slowly. "Whether I defeat him, or he strikes me down with hatred and malice in his heart... either way, we win."
Vice's face shot forward, to plant a rather adorable peck on Mature's cheek. "Your cunning never ceases to amaze me, even in the next life, my darling Mature."
Mature's arms wrapped around her, keeping their bodies constricted together. "To share this world with you, precious Vice, I will never stop making plans to plunge this world into anarchy."
Vice sharply grabbed the blonde's thigh, lifting her leg and bringing it around her hip. "How brilliant that we can use the trash that walks the ground to our advantage. A true sign of our godliness- URRRKKKkkkk...!"
Vice's words were cut off all at once, as Mature's fingers snaked around Vice's neck, cutting off the redhead's confident strength. The tables turned; in an instant, their bodies cleared the distance of the shower, the Vice was slammed against the opposite wall.
"You've had your fun." Mature cooed, as she let go of the redhead's neck and instead seized her jaws. "Kiss me."
Under the obscuring haze, their bodies... or lack thereof... became one.
"You're such a bitch."
"No, you are."
"Kukukukuku... you were a bigger bitch than me."
"Bold words from someone who cowardly attacks by surprise."
"Darling, with your poor stamina... I showed you mercy."
"Fufufufufufu... 'mercy'? That word alone proves what a weak bitch you are."
Despite the hateful venom being exchanged between them, Mature and Vice, clad in fluffy white towels, somehow couldn't be more delighted in each other's arms, as they laughed and giggled in the hotel room, dancing in a circle. Eventually, one of them lost balance, and the two of them crashed onto the bed, Vice landing on top of Mature.
Vice's eyes filled with a human passion, as they lowered towards Mature's blues... as their lips touched down, Vice's tongue slithered into her mouth, and Mature accepted it unto her own.
"Will you two please go f*** somewhere else? I'm kind of busy."
The romantic union was abruptly, and disappointingly, broken up by the foreign presence of one Iori Yagami, who was sitting on the bed in nothing but boxers, reading glasses on his face, and a formidably thick book in his hand.
Rather than accept the lemons of his souring presence, the duo turned it to lemonade, ever-willing to entertain themselves with his disposition.
"You are the worst kind of lie." Vice snickered, hugging Iori from behind, pressing a kiss behind his ear.
"You knew we were here, yet you choose to read your silly book under the premise that you'll have peace?" Mature joined in the antics, crawling to Iori's front and attempting to snatch the book from his hands. Iori clung tight, however, and didn't even lose his page.
"You've been waiting on us~"
"Probably reciting your begs to join in~"
Iori won the stalemate, yanking his book free. He then sharply turned his back to them and went belly-down on the bed, eyes engrossed in the pages.
Never ones to admit defeat, they pressed their luck... a moment later, Iori felt a weight on his back, as one of them had clearly mounted him.
"Whatcha reading anyway~?" it was Vice's voice in his ear, her body sprawled out on top of him.
"Moby Dick." Iori spoke lazily, as if the woman's weight wasn't a bother to him at all.
"Really?" Mature joined in. "A story about a big fat whale?"
"Didn't know you were into those, Yaggy."
"I thought you liked beautiful, slender, voluptuous women like ourselves~"
"He's just reading it to fuel his hate boner for Kyo~"
"Is that what you're going to do next, Yaggy? Rent a harpoon and go after your boy crush?"
Mature crawled over and laid beside him, playfully nudging her cheek against his. She did this several times, attempting to divert the man's eyes... but he stayed glued to the book.
Vice, still pinning him down, reached around and removed his glasses. FINALLY... with a long sigh... Iori admitted defeat, slipping in his bookmark and snapping the book shut. With impressive strength, Iori lifted himself back upright, and Vice finally fell off of him with a giggle.
"Well, now that you two have lovingly soiled my quiet night of reading... I'm going for a walk." he stated flatly, placing the book aside and heading over to his travel bag to take out some casual clothes.
Mature pouted. "You're going out? At this hour?"
"What about us?" Vice complained.
Iori shrugged, as he finished slipping on a shirt. "What about you? I'll be back later. Stay out of trouble."
It was a peaceful night out on the streets of Munich. Cool, clean air. Felt good to breathe in. His head felt clear out here... very therapeutic day. Felt good to sing earlier. He was glad he picked a loud song: something to scream out, to vent all the aggression he had in him. These fights just weren't doing it. Pounding Yashiro felt good enough, but Shingo... that nearly broke him.
All he could do, as he silently walked the streets, was pray that he was matched up against someone he just genuinely didn't like. Someone he had no qualms about tearing into. Someone like-
"Nice night."
He froze; did that voice belong to who he THOUGHT it did?!
He turned slowly... as if the mystery of it was taxing on his nerves... until he was completely facing the other direction, eyes no choice but to look upon the source.
...It was. White slacks. Beefy arms, partially hidden with hands in pockets. A ridiculously stocky torso, with a red top that failed to conceal it.
White hair. Fair skin... not darkened.
"You." Iori's voice was too quiet to gauge any type of animosity. It was more confusion than anything else, to be confronted by HIM of all people in the middle of the night... one would forgive Iori for putting his guard up as a first reaction.
"Here to start something?" Iori spoke with bared fangs, halfway between taking a fighting stance and trying to appear non-threatened.
Yashiro, perhaps in a show of nonaggression... folded his arms. "I'm just here to deliver a message to you."
Upon hearing that, Iori allowed himself to back off. Slightly. Seconds passed, that the two shared in silence, their bodies maintaining a distance. It wasn't unti a half minute passed, that Iori's trust was at last gained... and the redhead lowered his defensive stature altogether.
Yashiro's face showed no anger, no violent intent... more solemn than anything else. "I'm here to let you know, and you can tell Kagura and Kusanagi this as well: we're not done. We're not finished yet. We're still in this. Our dream... it's still possible. And I swear, with all the power this form can handle, I'll fight to make it real."
Iori's face curled into a sneer. "You just ooze righteousness, dontcha? Coming to me in the middle of the night, acting like some patron saint who's gonna deliver your people to paradise."
Yashiro took one step forward. "Everything I do, I do for them. They deserve paradise."
"And you don't care who dies to get there." Iori criticized. "Even the whole world. Women. Children. Families. Everything that people ever built together... gone. Just for you and your own selfish interests."
Yashiro's eyes closed. "I can't... feel... empathy for others. My body, my mind, my... WHAETEVER... it doesn't possess the component of compassion. Has it always? I don't know. Maybe there was a time I could... back when I was a musician."
Yashiro turned his back to Iori, looking up at the sky above, like the words were directed only at himself, in self-narration. "Back when I was just trying to make it in the world. Us three."
He reached up, grasping at the moon above... but as his fingers closed, he held nothing. "That time is lost to me now. It feels like it never existed. I wonder if it'd be easier, going back to that time... maybe I'd still be alive. Maybe Chris could've grown up to be whatever he wanted. Maybe me and Shermie would be..."
His eyes slightly flickered as they shut tight again... Iori could have sworn he saw a tremble of his lip, but a sharp sucking of air, and Yashiro's composure was rock-solid once more.
"This is all I have left, Iori. This is the only paradigm, binding my soul to this Earth. Whether I'm alive or dead., I have to fulfill Orochi's Will. There's nothing else I can do. Nothing else to exist for."
"You still remember things." Iori jumped in finally. "From your past life. It's not too late to go back."
"No." Yashiro sharply cut that down with interjection. "It's FAR too late. What I... what we used to be... it's long gone now. Sometimes it comes back, but... I can feel it... the memories growing more and more dim, with each passing day."
His body turned once more, presenting empty eyes to the redhead. "Maybe one day I'll forget I ever hated you."
Iori took a step forward. "So this is it, then? Your final stand against humanity? Are you so lost that, even now, when you've got nothing left of you but a fabrication... you'd try to doom all life here? You're a coward is what you are! You want what's easy. You want what's for you and your people-"
"BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL THAT MATTERS!" Yashiro's voice carried a powerful vibe, even in the next life. "This world never did anything for us! Why should I care what happens to them all?!"
Iori shook his head. "You had a life before this Orochi crap. I'm sure you did! You just don't remember... and you don't want to remember. The memories aren't gone. You're keeping them asleep."
Yashiro pressed the tension, stepping forward in turn. "I don't care anymore. I don't have much left of me... so I'm making the choice to put it all into this final mission. Me, Shermie, Chris... don't you get it, Yagami? We're fighting to finally get what we deserve. We're not just going to pass on like weaklings... we've got the chance to rise up, seize this world! Wouldn't you do the same, in our position?!"
Iori's lips pursed, as he looked down, in deep pondering. He himself didn't exactly have the best life... would he do the same?
Deciding that such a question was too fatiguing, he offered a simple answer. "Hard to say. Good thing I'm not in that position."
Yashiro smirked. "Maybe one day, you'll be a ghost just like me. You don't have long for this world after all, hahahahahahaa..."
That finally enraged Iori. "SHUT UP!"
His fingers outstretched, brandishing them in their lethal talon-like abilities. "I'm not getting into anymore ideological wars with you, Nanasake. If all that's left of you is a bitter, genocidal remnant... you can die here."
His fingers flexed with a CRACK!, demonstrating their poise to rend flesh.
Yashiro's eyes flickered yellow, as he clenched his fists and raised them, in fighting stance. "I've got nothing left to lose, Yagami. I'll fight you with everything; even if I lose my life here, Shermie and Chris will keep going!"
They both attempted a step forward... until a shadowy presence stopped them in their tracks at the same time.
"Who's there?!" Iori barked into the night sky, turning around and looking in the distance.
He looked left... right... scanning all the signs, poles, vehicles both parked and moving... buildings, dark alleys... rooftops. Nothing.
Suddenly remembering his current situation, Iori spun back around to face Yashiro... only to see nothing. Gone. As if he was never here.
"Damn." Iori hissed through gritted teeth. "Bastard is persistent... no worries. I'll squash his little playmates tomorrow and put an end to this shit."
And with that, we have finally arrived at Round 3! Sorry for the long intermission, my friends, but I am trying to tell... some kind of story here hehe. I dunno what. It's a jumbled mess lol.
NEXT CHAPTER: Round 3 is here! 16 contestants will enter, and only 8 will remain! We are one step away from the Quarterfinals! Stay tuned!
But first... what the heck, here's a bonus scene.
BONUS SCENE
"That was close."
Shroom, slender body darkened by the shadows, spoke to his shorter partner, Rimelo. "I was having a little too much fun watching them."
Rimelo, silent as always, just nodded her head and listened on.
Shroom reached up, playing with the eyepatch he rightfully stole from Heidern. "These fools are too entertaining, clashing with each other in their little play war. Of course, they're more fun dead than living."
With a sickening smirk, he lifted the eyepatch, revealing both of his golden eyes, shimmering in the moonlight, a beautiful contrast to the dark sky.
He held out his hand, outstretching his fingers. "What is it Saiki would say in this situation? Oh yeah."
His fingers hardened to rigid peaks. "Just... die."
