A/N: I'm back. And, during this break I got this extra long chapter ready. I couldn't find a good place to split it into two chapters so. . . Happy New Year. Enjoy!

By Any Means:

Win or Lose, I'll Give My All

Shaad roughly stepped over the carnage he'd wrought, crushing the weakened, cracked bones under his heel as he brought a foot down on the soft, red dirt below him. The dismantled and disfigured carcasses of his slain victims littering his path alongside the combined wreckage wreaked on nature and the structures surrounding them created a haunting scene, but Shaad felt no remorse for his actions, maintaining his stone-like composure as he moved through in search of his true target.

The method was simple, if not utterly stupid, as Shaad merely followed the line of enemies, figuring where they converged was the path to the leader's dwelling. When a few would jump in his path or attempt to eliminate him from cover with well-placed shots, he responded accordingly, striking them down without the slightest hint of emotion behind his cold, focused eyes, staring ahead in both the figurative and literal sense as yet more enemies would soon join their compatriots in the cold embrace of death. Rage may have been what drove him in that moment, but this was far from wild and unfettered, sharpening Shaad's methods to peak efficiency if not as brutal as he would typically have opted for.

Stabbing his jet black blade through the throat of yet another suited minion, letting the body crumple to the floor, Shaad continued to march through the streets of the massive, sprawling complex, an irritated frown affixed to his face as he turned a corner where hundreds of men in suits awaited him between the long, level buildings extending along the entire path.

'We must be in the barracks,' the voice in his head snidely remarked.

'Then we're close.' Shaad thought, his eyes staring at the open space past the group, all of them already dead as far as he was concerned. Groups were the refuge of the weak. And, the weak could only rely on the certainty of death.

Shaad strode along calmly, an eerie tune reminiscent of light knocking following him as he let his swords jostle languidly along the cobblestone road. He paid the myriad of weapons being trained on him no mind, a maniacal grin crossing his lips as he spoke - somewhat to himself - with an absent, hollow ring. "Do you hear that? Knocking. But. . ." Shaad's voice trailed off. He raised his swords high, touching the blades' tips at the peak of his extension before slowly bringing them down, spreading the blades in an arc as if tracing the frame of a giant door around him. With a blade fully extended to each side, Shaad let his swords drop into a reverse grip and drove them into the ground, taking a half step forward as his voice once again reached out in that same haunting chill. "If you keep knocking. . . the door might open. Death's Door!" Shaad's voice rose in time with him yanking his swords from the ground and disappearing just as the bone chilling knocking finally ceased. Before the huge group of enemies could even react, Shaad was behind them, his swords held confidently at his sides. After a few seconds, with a quiet whisper of "Outreach of the Unforgiving," from Shaad, a sudden, slicing force of highly intense power tore through the ranks with an unbelievable ferocity. The raw power ripped through each of the men in gruesome fashion, sending them collapsing to the ground as little more than shredded husk. Just as the attack waned, Shaad nearly fell to his knees, using his swords to just barely catch himself in time before pushing himself up to full height after only a single deep breath.

Shaad briefly glanced over his shoulder, letting his eyes rove over the sea of dead foes before he caught sight of a single man, clothing in tatters, trembling in the center of it all, wielding barely raised dual saw toothed machetes. Shaad released a frustrated groan at the man's presence, somehow still standing amidst all the chaos. In an instant, he twirled around, crossing his two swords in front of him in threatening and preparatory fashion as he approached the man.

The man backed away slowly, holding the savage looking machetes feebly between him and the approaching threat as he tried to put his back against a wall to keep his trembling legs from toppling him. Even then, he attempted to bluff his way out of the bleak situation with a threat, failing miserably as his voice shook almost as much as his blades. "B-Back off. . . I-It's not too late to -"

The man's plea was cut off by Shaad, the emotionless, almost ethereal, quality of his voice sending the man stumbling backwards in fear where he was caught by the outside wall of one of the barracks. "Oh, but it is; it's far. Too. Late."

The frightened underling was only vaguely aware enough to lift his weapons up in defense, though even the solid steel of the blades did nothing to protect him from Shaad's unhinged wrath as the ruthless youth gripped the two dissimilar swords and slashed out with them at point blank range. The aftermath was total evisceration; only the man's lower legs were left intact with the right calf and leg having fallen over, situated before the destroyed remnants of sections of two separate barracks. Hearing a light stream splashing onto the pavement, Shaad turned his eyes and caught sight of another man he'd missed with his initial attack, though this time the fresh wet streak running down the leg of the man's suit marked him as no threat. As if to reinforce the idea he let his gun, which had previously been directed at Shaad clang harmlessly to the ground.

Turning his focus back to the first man's remains and the newly created shortcut, Shaad waded through the wreckage and rubble. 'Two birds, one stone; now to find the main house.' Shaad continued down the debris laden pathway, extending the impromptu route as necessary. The fact that anyone who might have stood in his way going this direction was unceremoniously crushed under the debris of his renovations provided him brief respite on the rare occasions he'd stop to alter his heading slightly.

A short while later, Shaad, who had just punched a hole through an extra thick, reinforced wall - bruising his knuckles slightly in the process - clamored through the human sized hole into a wide clearing with two rows of finely maintained shrubbery sheared into the shapes of various wildlife and even a couple of people at the head of each row. Opening his eyes to the entire scene, Shaad was once again faced with a large group of suited men each pointing a gun at him, though something seemed different, more advanced, about the guns they carried this time. Also unlike the first two groups, these men were all very highly trained; too well trained to fire blindly and at random, where he could vanish amidst the commotion, and skilled enough to not give him the extra half second it would take to run them all through. Shaad had to make his first move count or he'd be riddled with enough bullets to sink him. Of course, he could probably run, but that wasn't an option as his pulsing rage prompted him to finish stepping through the hole in the wall, completely exposing himself to the enemy. As he did so, Shaad scanned over the crowd, counting almost 100 men gathered in the immaculate courtyard and taking note of their twitchy trigger fingers and the grand two story palace behind them. 'This is the place.' That much was clear, but it would take quite the gamble to advance any further than he'd already made it.

Shaad slowly lifted his right foot as if to move forward, looking over the armed group for signs of attack. He'd already taken the chance that they wouldn't shoot him as soon as he'd moved, a mistake they would soon regret. Focusing his energy and strength into that foot, Shaad prepared to bring it down along with the entire area. Lifting up on the toes of his left foot, he crashed his right into the ground with tremendous force, - "Revenge of the Damned" - the impact causing a crater with small cracks in the ground expanding a few inches in every direction, but no large scale destruction. . . until fissures suddenly started appearing across the area, pieces of earth shot up, and the entire ground shook, collided, and separated all at once within the limited space. It was impossible to maintain footing among the large horde as the ground shifted to and fro sending men sprawling onto the ground or jetting into the sky like ragdolls. Some simply fell into the abyss of the suddenly created canyons never to be seen again or barely kept from such a fate with a strong grip on the canyon's edge only to be crushed as the ground tossed and turned again, sliding together and apart, closing once wide gaps and opening new ones in a constant extreme fluctuation of the courtyard's geography and landscape.

Shaad wasn't satisfied, though, with just creating a stumbling block for the most part. He swiftly unsheathed the swords on his back, striking the ground to thunderous effect before any of his targets had time to recover. The sudden and precise influx of such a massive amount of energy deep below the Earth's surface sparked a volatile reaction, sending copious amounts of scalding hot steam and water vapors erupting from the numerous openings Shaad's first strike created. There was no escape as everything within the designated area of the attack was engulfed in the blistering temperatures of the assaulting gases. The men, trapped inside the thickening white cloud by the suddenly altered and wildly uneven terrain, could only struggle helplessly as their skin blistered heavily and they were either burned completely alive or, at the least, irreversibly scarred with second and third degree burns.

Shaad used an arm to shield himself from the overbearing heat, and as the ear-splitting screams finally died down, he picked up his swords in a reverse grip and cleared the wafting remnants with a few powerful strokes. Holding the blades parallel along his arms, Shaad waded through the disturbing scene towards the small staircase leading into the grand center of the entire fortress, the bottoms of the stolen black boots he wore permanently red from the blood and flesh that had soaked into the material thus far on that night.

The destruction of the courtyard stopped just short of the five stairs leading into the main house. Arriving at the base of those stairs, Shaad admired the statuettes greeting him from atop the handrails: eastern dragons with a clawed front foot threatening to crush the golden skull beneath them. Shaad spared one last, brief glance behind him at the pain and suffering, death and destruction, he'd been the harbinger of before grasping the ornate handles and entering the wooden door. "If I'd been at full strength from the start, I could've sunk this entire place," Shaad muttered to himself while wearing a deep scowl as he opened the last boundary between him and the ultimate target of his newfound rage.

"I take it you're the boss," Shaad stated in a rough tone, looking on at the stone faced, bald man in a navy pinstripe suit that did little to hide his bursting muscles beneath.

Nor did it hide the fingerless, plate metal bracers extending from under the sleeves of his shirt onto the backs of his hands as he flexed them threateningly, speaking in a low growl Shaad recognized from the den den mushi at the brothel. "I'm impressed you made it this far. Tell me, how many men did you kill to get here?"

"I lost count," Shaad answered honestly. "Far more than needed to die tonight."

"Don't tell me you feel sorry for them. The night's still young, foolish boy." As he spoke those ominous words, two hidden doors opened at the rear of the room. From them, six like dressed men entered. Instead of suits, though, these men each wore the kimono and hakama typical of samurai complete with wooden sandals and a katana at their hip. Each had their hair in a topknot, but their faces were hidden behind the white tiger masks they all wore.

Shaad eyed them with contempt as they filed in before fixing a glare directly at the leader in a suit, the satisfied smirk he wore irking Shaad to no end. "Even now, you merely throw more bodies at the problem. Is that all you can do?"

The man's smirk only grew at the clear hatred in Shaad's voice, replying with a haughty confidence as he returned Shaad's intense glare. "These men are far more than mere bodies. They are the Capo Elites; each of them is worth a 100 of those gun toting morons outside."

"So, 600 more bodies and a giant ass. Here's your one way tickets to the slaughterhouse," Shaad declared with an arrogant smirk, crossing his arms and swords in front of him in a double reverse grip. But, despite the confident words and demeanor, Shaad knew they were empty. He was nearly at his limit and no matter how much posturing he did, defeating the seven men that stood before him would most likely take more than he had left.

Shaad had long been a proponent of the best defense is a great offense, and with that mindset he charged the three masked samurai lined up to his right, pushing the front man into the two in back before immediately spinning around to block a strike from behind. He was forced to make a hasty retreat when three of the remaining four converged from all around.

Shaad's father had taught him that a warrior's mettle and training were revealed when pressured, rarely otherwise. That lesson persisted in the back of his head as he tossed aside the lone samurai left to pursue him before using his superior agility to resume his attack on the rest, hoping that he could wound at least some of them. But, instead of fleeing, four of the five came together to block his powerful slashes, keeping him occupied while the fifth circled around his left and attacked from a blind spot. Shaad expected the attack, though, and twisted to avoid it, letting the sword tangle with the clash he already had going before sending the lot of them scrambling backwards with a sudden, twisting outward push. The force of the counter turned him around just in time to see the sword of the one he'd avoided earlier come slicing in at him. He only had time to avoid a fatal strike, wincing in pain as the sharp metal cut into his cheek and just under his ear, and used the following opportunity to create distance and regroup.

In the split second breather he was allotted, Shaad flipped his pristine silver bladed sword upright in his hand while the jet black blade remained in a reverse grip, pushing off the ground and propelling himself forward in order to maintain whatever pressure he could. As the flow of the battle devolved into a series of him attacking only to quickly be put on the defensive by one of the other fighters attacking from behind before eventually losing all offensive momentum entirely, he figured out that their tactics revolved around using speed and numbers to overwhelm opponents and swiftly strike from blind spots. Knowing that, though, did nothing to change the fact that it took his total effort just to defend against the constant onslaught coming from every direction.

While Shaad's technical training may have been equal to if not greater than theirs and his speed and strength were surely superior, he clearly lacked the energy and stamina to fully showcase his advantages. The masked samurai attacked him in rapid succession, dashing in and out one after the other so he couldn't turn the tables on any one or get into any kind of a rhythm. Shaad's disorientation was clearly growing as a greater frequency of attacks broke through his defense. Taking advantage of his off balance state, the six swordsmen showed off their experience together as a unit by wordlessly implementing a new attack strategy. The six nearly identical men fell in line and ran towards Shaad in perfect unison.

Shaad, who was dazed on his feet from the energy shortage and the combined effects of the attacks he'd suffered, watched as the six men merged into one in his vision and charged him. As they came into range, he braced himself, prepared to defend and counter. But, without attacking, the first in line dashed away to the left - jumping up and past Shaad - followed by the second man throwing a feint, just as Shaad brought his eyes back around, before doing the same as the first man, only to the right. Shaad turned back around faster this time, and only followed the third man, low and to the left, with his peripheral vision as the fourth came upon him. There was less than a split second between each of them, and Shaad had thought he'd caught on to the pattern when the fourth, going low and to the right, cut deeply into his thigh. Wounded, he braced himself for the next in line and was once again distracted by the masked man jumping above him like a pouncing tiger. Only his instincts screaming at him to pay attention in front brought his eyes down in time to see a sword about to impale him through the chest. Even with two swords, there was no room or time for Shaad to react as the blade proceeded without obstruction, soon joined by the five blades of the man's partners, all intent on killing him.

But, in that fraction of a second, Shaad had disappeared, a small scar on the center of his chest showing how close he came to being skewered alive as he reappeared behind the group on one knee and panting heavily.

'Stop playing around. We need to finish this.'

'Playing? I'm about to die here.'

'Then, go faster. Be stronger.'

'I - I don't have the energy to spare.'

'Wow, you're stupid. Don't spare any. Two bursts; one for them, and one for him,' Even in Shaad's head, the word him sounding with a sneer.

'My body-'

'Better than dead.'

Shaad's attentions were brought back to reality by the six masked men encircling him, swords at the ready. The situation looked bleak as he struggled to control his breathing, but the short internal conversation did give him an idea. Using his swords to raise himself to his feet, Shaad took a deep breath, flexing and rolling the muscles of his body. Deciding to lay it all out, Shaad launched himself forward before any of his opponents could react. "Cross Cleaver," he called, lowering himself even more as he charged with his swords trailing behind. The man easily evaded Shaad's attack, jumping over the swishing blades, but Shaad simply smirked as he followed the man into the air, bringing the blades back for the man's neck this time. The blades bit into the warrior's muscled neck but were halted by the raised sword between the two. Shaad wasted no time in applying an even greater pressure, sending cracks spreading through the steel of his foe's katana. But, lacking the time to finish the deed as another came up behind him, Shaad sent the wounded man careening into one of the thick, sturdy walls with a bone-crushing downward kick to the neck. With one stuck firmly in the wall, Shaad focused on the second, rapidly approaching obstacle. Using the momentum of the kick to twist his entire body around, he swung his sword with unfathomable power, considering he had no leverage in midair, and clashed with the rising swordsman. The two were near evenly matched, but with a sudden burst of strength, Shaad sent the larger man barreling into the wooden flooring below before landing softly on his own feet.

There was no time to waste as he immediately rushed a third member of the group, dropping his center of gravity as if for 'Cross Cleaver' before disappearing in an instant, reappearing in front of the swordsman's face and driving both knees into the masked fighter's chest while he simultaneously brought his swords around and stabbed them into the man's back. Letting the body fall, Shaad planted his feet on the floor just as two others simultaneously attacked from behind him. Again, Shaad was gone as they struck out with their katana, adopting their strategy as he charged them from behind. They quickly figured his location, though, both turning around in time to confront his wide strikes. His strength split between two foes, Shaad drove his blades at a slight downward angle and, with an incredible surge, pushed his way through, but his attack was redirected and only sliced the inside hip of each man. That was enough to slip between the two, though, and, before either could turn again to face him, drive his swords behind him and through the two men. But, unbeknownst to him, his strikes were once again diverted, this time by the short swords each man kept hidden on his back, sending Shaad's blades through a meatier portion of the torso where bleeding occurred more slowly and didn't inhibit movement like a snapped spine.

Shaad allowed a smirk to cross his lips as he felt the flow of air in the room change slightly. The last of the swordsmen was charging him from behind at breakneck speed, noticeably faster than any of them had moved thus far. But, that didn't matter; regardless how fast the man moved, Shaad was faster, and he was ready to show it as he turned and rushed to meet the man head on. Shaad intercepted his opponent quicker than the man could've imagined, unleashing a devastating right punch as the two crossed. Shaad felt the durability of the white tiger mask give beneath his fist and followed through until the man's forward momentum had been stopped completely and he was sent sailing backwards. His body came down and ground through the room's flooring until he came to a stop in the wall near the suited man Shaad was intent on killing.

Even with all six of the swordsmen down, the suited man still wore a confident smirk while it took a good deal of Shaad's own energy just to remain standing with a semi-confident smirk of his own. The reason for the man's confidence was soon clear as what remained of the mask on Shaad's most recent victim crumbled and fell away, revealing a pair of dead, soulless eyes and distressed veins bulging from the skin. At the same time, each of the downed warriors slowly dragged themselves to their feet and lumbered to surround Shaad just as they had earlier. The tiger masks had also fallen off the first two he'd knocked aside. And, just like the last, their eyes and veins were in the same condition, Shaad noting the dilated pupils and bloodshot state of the disconcerting orbs. They'd obviously been drugged, likely willingly as the drug seemed to deaden the pain senses (explaining why they could all even stand after the crippling shots Shaad had delivered) and increase strength while allowing for at least marginal mental functions including free thought and strategy.

Shaad's heart sank upon realizing it'd be impossible for him to defeat the six swordsmen and the suited man with his depleted energy levels and the emotion briefly shown on his face, only furthering the satisfaction evident on his main target's features. At seeing that condescending, snide smirk, Shaad came to a decision: if he couldn't take out all of them, he'd be sure to bring down the leader with every bit of energy he had left. And, with his mind set, Shaad sheated his silver blade and burst forth, ignoring the six drugged flunkies, and aiming straight for the head of the snake. With a fierce roar, Shaad was upon the man, black blade raised high above him.

But, the man reacted in an instant, bringing his metal guarded hands clamping down on the blade of Shaad's sword, catching it before it cut him in two. As Shaad increased the strength and pressure of the attack he did the same with his defense, his suit top and dress shirt literally exploding off of him as his bulging, inflated muscles were put on full display in the struggle of life and death. Against all odds, though, Shaad's blade steadily drew closer and he was pushed back until his heels pressed against the solid wall to his back. Clenching his teeth and flexing the solid muscles of his arms to a new level, the commanding man pushed back against Shaad, bringing their epic clash to a fierce stalemate as neither side could glean the advantage.

Shaad's gritted teeth and focused expression matched his adversary's as they struggled against one another. Shaad continued pressing down and was lucky none of the swordsmen had interfered to this point, but even with that positive, he knew his energy was completely exhausted as the older man began pushing him back, an evil gleam in the man's smile. 'Don't spare anything!' That thought flashed across Shaad's mind just as he was ready to give up, but, with a loud, jarring yell, he managed to engulf his opponent in a powerful slash that seemed cloaked in a violent, forward blasting explosion making Shaad's eyes widen in surprise as the man was sent barreling backwards through the solid wall and into a hidden room, but he allowed himself a moment of peace and satisfaction, a happy smile gracing his lips, as he saw the man's body come to a stop, cut and emanating smoke as if burned.

Shaad then landed on weak, wobbly legs, barely able to manage standing as the floor seemed unsteady and his vision blinked in and out, before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell unconscious, crashing to the floor in the deepest midst of enemy territory.