Long past the point the desert skies dimmed, and the crowds parted from the coliseum grounds, Endo remained seated, leaning forth with his fingers weaved together. The object of his observation remained still, having planted itself firmly on the staircase of the arena stands and refused to move an inch. Thus Endo didn't move either. Like the competitors fighting in the tournament competed against each other for the ultimate prize in terms of real estate and titles, Endo and the Curse Walker locked horns in a blinking competition, even though the Cursed Warrior may not have been aware of such a competition.
"You'll move eventually… Maybe you'll need to go to the bathroom, or maybe you'll want to practice some moves for tomorrow. And, when you move, I'll be there to observe and record it all," Endo muttered. This habit of talking to himself had become a way to bolster his strength, even when he got hungry when he felt chilly or wouldn't have minded a bathroom break himself. It was as if with this vague threat the Cursed Warrior couldn't hear Endo strengthened his own resolve and could carry on his observation quest.
Endo squinted with focus. Despite the evenings being chilly and comparable to spending time in the Snow Country, a droplet of sweat ran down the brow of the apprentice samurai. He must have been seeing things. For a second it seemed as if though there was some kind of distortion of light, like a vague rippling mirage that had formed around the Cursed Warrior, localized entirety within the Curse Walker's reach.
Hit Boomslang, the veteran spy for hire, crawled across the stands where the crowd observing the Succession Tournament had firmly planted their butts. It wasn't as if Hit Boomslang wouldn't have crawled through literal piles of feces, broken glass, or plowed through a pile of human viscera for the sake of his mission, still, that didn't mean that the veteran spy wasn't glad that the warmth from the rear ends of the spectators that previously filled the coliseum had already faded from the seats since their departure.
Wrapping himself around in a wholly reflective sheet that provided him camouflage skills comparable to the Cloak of Invisibility technique ninja used in the field, Hit Boomslang rolled himself off the seats and flopped down on the lower floor, resuming his slow but inevitable crawl closer to his target. If he were a lesser man or a lesser spy, maybe Hit Boomslang would have shivered or hesitated in the face of the intimidating aura radiating from the dormant Cursed Warrior, but now the only thing on Hit Boomslang's mind was how fortuitous this moment of Curse Walker's dormancy was for his mission objective.
With the destruction of this Cursed Warrior, the suppliers of these walking, flying, and swimming weapons of mass destruction will feel a considerable blow. No matter how powerful, intelligent, rich, or influential they were, losing ten Cursed Warriors must have been a disaster for their makers and suppliers. Usually, only a single Cursed Warrior was active in one conflict at a time, and only in a very select few conflicts around the world. Such measured application suggested both that the suppliers of these Cursed Warriors felt confident enough in their skills and capability to destroy all within their range, and that these engines of destruction needed to be used measurably and carefully.
Hit's invisibility cloak rustled while the veteran spy burrowed in his pouch, retrieving a single square device with two wide handles spreading from each side. More than wide enough to slip one's hands into them. The device itself was around the size and shape of a jug, with a dark green radar screen that had a pulse-like line jotting on it, displaying a flatline signal.
Shuffling onto his knees and extending the reach of his cloak to envelop parts of the Curse Walker, Hit Boomslang reached to press the device to the Cursed Warrior's chest and secure it. From which point the resonant frequency disruptor would've done its dirty job and reduced the Cursed Warrior to rubble, despite its human-like appearance.
Hit Boomslang was operating in a world of godlike warriors and warriors who believed themselves to be gods, so most of the time he'd have been skeptical about the chances of a mere handheld gadget harming, let alone destroying someone in the world of battle power and durability of the Cursed Warriors. That was if he hadn't seen the resonant frequency disruptor at work before.
A bomb that adapts to the resonant frequency of the target it's attached to and then matches it, becoming one with its target before sending a violent disruptor pulse that causes resonant frequency arrhythmia and obliterates the target on a cellular level by making the disrupted cells simply collapse like grains of gravel. Not even someone as immovable and invulnerable as a Cursed Warrior could have withstood a detonation like this. That's right, the resonant frequency disruptor bomb was a weapon to surpass the Cursed Warriors!
"I don't know what you think you're doing here, but unless you want to die, you better get lost," Endo grumbled after grabbing Hit Boomslang's wrist alongside the reflective sheet of his camouflage cloak. "I'm supposed to gather intelligence on this thing for Mana's match tomorrow. I won't let you meddle with it."
With a firm yank, Endo pulled the reflective camouflage sheet off, waving it in the air while checking on who or what might have been trying to meddle with the Curse Walker during off-hours. Even though this meddling may have awakened the Cursed Warrior and made it do something, that may have been beneficial to Endo's research, the sheer ways in which this meddling might have gone wrong for the Stars surpassed that single good outcome.
Hit Boomslang froze in place, shocked by the sudden revelation as Endo's firm gaze fixed on the spy. After a few moments of direct contact, the veteran spy's shock dissipated as he realized that he wasn't caught by one of the Sheikh's guards, but by a ninja who must have been here with his own objectives. Based on what he's been talking about–something related to Mana, a semi-finalist in the Succession Tournament.
Moving his arm up, Hit Boomslang threw something beneath his feet, detonating a smoke bomb point blank before backflipping outside of Endo's immediate reach. When the smoke dissipated somewhat, Endo glared at a fake plastic hand he'd been holding while Hit Boomslang filled his tight hi-tech bodysuit with his own hand of flesh and blood. While this wasn't a ninjutsu trick, Hit Boomslang showcased his skill in deception and stealth by slipping away from Endo's grasp this way, even if it only further annoyed the Allied Ninja.
"Sorry, but I need to plant this device on this Cursed Warrior. I'd rather not go through the ruckus of fighting you, but planting this is the most important thing to me right now," Hit Boomslang said, bending his arm to wave the resonant frequency disruptor in front of Endo.
"Fight me? That's hilarious!" Endo sneered, spreading his legs and buckling his knees while his arms reached from the two swords sheathed on both sides of his body that could connect by their handles to form a sword-staff. "Aren't you that guy who would rather dress like a woman than fight like a man?"
"And if we were to fight here and now and make a ruckus, given that stealth and deception are my specialties, who do you think would be spotted meddling with the Cursed Warrior and get into trouble? Even if you were to tell the Sheikh's guards the truth, do you think they'd ignore the convenient observation that the destruction of this Cursed Warrior fits your motivation as a comrade of an active Succession Tournament competitor perfectly?" Hit Boomslang replied, standing his ground like a courageous mongoose rearing its teeth before a majestic and deadly cobra.
"You dumbass, why would you tell me that? You could've totally gotten me with that!" Endo snickered, straightening up after realizing that fighting this spy would've caused his team more trouble than it was worth.
"That's because getting you or your comrades into trouble has nothing to do with my objective. Even if all of you were to be disqualified and executed by the Sheikh's guard, but you prevented me from planting this device, I'd still fail my mission," Hit Boomslang pointed out without dropping his guard. He was well aware that this swordsman could still cut him down without making too much noise, so he didn't immediately trust Endo's broken stance.
"What's with this device, anyway?" Endo wondered, directing his stare at the strange do-hickey Hit Boomslang clutched in his right hand.
"It is the resonant frequency disruptor. A bomb that can destroy even a Cursed Warrior," Hit Boomslang replied, still wary of his unwanted company.
"Really? Your big plan is to blow this guy up with a bomb? Doesn't sound too reliable, besides, it'll still cause a big ruckus, won't it?" Endo sneered at the spy with mockery. "I'd probably have better chances of disposing of it by cleaving it into two with my sword. It'd be quieter too."
"Really? You would do that for me? That'd be awfully kind of you…" Hit Boomslang smirked. "In any case, the resonant frequency disruptor isn't like an ignition bomb, it adapts to and disrupts the frequency at which one's cells are vibrating, effectively dissolving the target on a cellular level by causing their cells to collapse like peas out of a bag. It's not too loud, but it might cause a little rumble. Even so, I'd be long gone by the time anyone comes to check."
"Is that so?" Endo sighed. He was thinking something through deep down. Even though the swordsman appeared vulnerable with his guard down and his eyes closed, the veteran spy still didn't approach him or try to step around him to get to his target immediately behind the swordsman. There was a massive power disparity here and Hit Boomslang only survived and thrived this long by respecting disparities such as these and coming up with more creative decisions. "What's it to you that this thing's wrecked?"
"I can't divulge information on my contacts or my clients, but… I've been hired by an agency on the side of law enforcement. These Cursed Warriors have been used by terrorists and criminals and they undoubtedly come from shady underworld figures. Even though it's not what I always look out for, dissolving this thing here and now will undoubtedly help me sleep better at night, even with me having rubbed enough hands on the underworld side and sent plenty of decent people to a shallow grave as well," Hit Boomslang replied, testing Endo's fortitude, the spy slowly dragged his feet closer, seeking to step around the swordsman or to employ a final desperation gamble if Endo were to try to stop the spy.
"It just so happens that we want these things wrecked too," Endo sighed and rolled his eyes. "Even though it doesn't feel right killing someone while they're asleep, not when we're easily able to kill it in a fair fight, I won't lose sleep over it, as you put it before."
"So… Our interests are in alignment then?" Hit Boomslang stopped, glaring at Endo to confirm. "I can place the resonant frequency disruptor on the Curse Walker?"
Taking it into the air, Endo vaulted over his back and landed on a steel rail, crossing his arms and figuratively washing his hands off this matter. "Do whatever you will, just make sure you do it right. If your little gadget fails, the next time our paths cross, I'll cut you down myself for being more trouble than you're worth," Endo warned the spy.
"I have no issue in betting my life on the resonant frequency disruptor. As long as the Curse Walker has cells, they're vibrating at a certain, unique frequency. That means that he's susceptible to cellular destruction. The resonant frequency disruptor technology is a weapon to surpass the Cursed Warriors," Hit Boomslang pointed out, approaching the Cursed Warrior and reaching out to slip the resonant frequency disruptor onto the Cursed Warrior. Pressing the do-hickey to the Curse Walker's back, Hit Boomslang reached to press the screen and secure the device.
It all unfolded in a blink. Just as Hit Boomslang's hand was about to touch the screen and issue the command for the resonant frequency disruptor to secure a grip and initiate the Curse Walker's destruction, an eyeball opened on the back of the Curse Walker's neck. Before that eyeball could blink, the entire back of the Cursed Warrior was peering back at the hardened spy. Despite all his experience and savvy, Hit Boomslang froze just for a moment, shocked by the sudden glance of the fiendish peepers.
As if realizing his mistake, but knowing that too much depended on this shot that Hit Boomslang surrendered his spot at the tournament to secure, the veteran spy drastically reached for the screen again, but, before he could secure the resonant frequency disruptor, in a flash, the device snapped shut around the spy himself. Endo's eyes squinted with focus. He hadn't seen the Curse Walker move this fast! The spy, despite his training in deception, had no shot of spotting the switcheroo.
"Well, shit… I knew my change of heart would end up getting me killed…" Hit Boomslang smiled at the cruel twist of irony before his body stiffened and he let out a pained grunt. For a second, it seemed as if his body had turned into rubber and became painfully abstract. Like every cell in Hit Boomslang's body had turned into a stiff and hardened spaghetti noodle with the elongated needles getting rattled and shuffled by a localized yet rampant quake, resonating from the device around Hit Boomslang's chest.
Endo braced himself, expecting a burst, but, disappointedly enough, the burst came out more like a wet fart as the veteran spy deflated on the floor and dissolved like a sheet of paper thrown into the pyre, dissolving away into smaller pieces that then dried out and collapsed in of themselves until Hit Boomslang was no more. Endo dashed to the pile of dust where Hit Boomslang just was, examining it to try to find traces of the resonant frequency disruptor, but it seemed as if the device disintegrated itself alongside its target, matching its resonant frequency and being destroyed with the pulse it sent to destroy the target.
"Damn… Poor bastard," Endo grumbled while standing up. Something was off, the lighting of the desert moon and stars was obstructed by something tall and broad. The swordsman realized he was standing before the Cursed Warrior, peering at it eye-to-eye with the excess of eyeballs scattered across the Cursed Warrior's body, now completely vanished. "I'm sure we could have a real blast here, you and me, but…" Endo sighed and vanished in a snappy flicker, taking his place on the steel railing he stood on earlier.
A handful of town guards spilled into the coliseum from the hallway that Endo and the Curse Walker previously directly obstructed, flashing their handheld lights at the stoic Cursed Warrior and looking around the empty and calm arena. They must have been patrolling nearby, perhaps observing the peace and quiet in the infirmary, before being disturbed by the rumbling in the arena. Even if it was only for a second, they still felt the tremors and heard the localized quake.
"We've heard some bangs here, is everything okay?" a guard asked the looming giant with a slightly perturbed look. The Curse Walker looked like a mindless engine of annihilation and violence with pupilless eyes with no irises and a permanent solemn scowl on its face that only bittered more and more as the Cursed Warrior became more frustrated in battle. Not to mention the fact that the Curse Walker had a distinguished social status in the Sheikhate and could just crush the guard's skull here and now and suffer no consequences because the Sheikh's protection extended to the active contestants of the Succession Tournament as long as they were competing.
"Give it up, man. It's no use, this guy can't understand a thing you're saying…" the other guard patted the shoulder of his partner and slowly and gently guided him back out and away from the brutish sneer of the awakened Curse Walker. "Sorry to have bothered you, Sir," the second guard waved his hand in the air with a smile.
"Something's not right. What was that noise back then? Didn't you feel the ground shake a little? Why's that guy awake at this hour? What's his deal? If he gets hurt or killed, it'll be our heads that'll roll, you know…" the first guard objected to his friend with a somewhat more restrained tone.
"Are you kidding me? Look at that thing. You need diapers just to feel confident looking at the guy. If someone kills it–they clearly earned it!" the other one waved it off. "I've no clue why the Sheikh's got us protecting a bunch of badasses and fighters, anyway? What the hell are we gonna do if someone decides to off them…?"
"Unfortunately, the resonant frequency disruptor has been destroyed," Hit Boomslang reported on a radio earpiece from a hallway in the lower coliseum area where hurt contestants were taken from the arena and rushed to the infirmary area. "I repeat, the resonant frequency disruptor is lost. The Cursed Warrior codename "The Curse Walker" is still active."
"Roger that, agent Greyhound, is your mission failed?" a voice on the radio inquired.
"Negative, I've come into contact with another party, Allied Ninja, whose interests ally with our own. I'll observe the tournament from afar and report their progress. The Allied Ninja will think me dead since I slipped away and used a blow-up doll decoy during the failed attempt to destroy the Curse Walker, so I'll avoid close contact," Hit Boomslang reported while glaring at the stationary Cursed Warrior staring blankly at the empty audience hallway while Endo stood perched on a railing above the Curse Walker and kept his watch.
"Roger that, stay in touch, agent Greyhound," Hit's contact replied after a brief pause of deliberation of whether or not to call the mission off. Eventually, they seconded Hit's decision to continue the mission. Too many lives were at stake to call it off now.
"Roger, Greyhound over and out," Hit Boomslang signed off and stepped deeper into the shade, concealing him from the lights flaring at the arena in the center of the coliseum structure with his hands stuffed in his pockets.