"I fear no one," KGBeast declared, voice gravelly and fierce as he pushed himself off the cracked wall, bits of plaster falling from his shoulders. His single, furious eye glinted in the dim light as he hurled a handful of shurikens with sharp, whipping motions of his wrist. Red Hood tilted his head slightly, almost unimpressed, as the metallic stars sliced through the air toward him.
"Now that's some bullshit," he muttered, his tone dry and casual as he deflected the shurikens midair with swift, precise sweeps of his blade. Sparks danced briefly in the air before dying out into the dust.
"You use distance as a shield," He continued, his voice calm, but the edge beneath it was smack-dab and deliberate.
"Pulling the trigger from far away saves you from facing your target up close. Deep down, you're afraid—afraid of what I'd do to you if you got too close. Afraid I'd leave you worse off than Batman and Nightwing did."
"Liar!" KGBeast roared, his entire body trembling with rage. His cybernetic arm whirred as he aimed, ready to unload a hail of bullets——but then, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed from the stairwell behind him.A group of guards, half-awake and still dazed from earlier, came running up, weapons drawn and their faces were hard with tension.
The moonlight streaming through the windows painted the scene in a pale, ghostly silver. Red Hood stood at the center of it, his crimson helmet gleaming faintly in the dim light. He looked like something pulled from a nightmare—steady, silent, and entirely unfazed. Across from him, KGBeast looked wild, sweat mixing with soot across his masked face, fury clouding his thoughts.
The guards hesitated only briefly before raising their rifles, aligning behind the mercenary as backup.
Red Hood sighed. "I showed restraint before," he said with a flat tone, but laced with irritation. "Knocked you all out instead of killing you. Guess you really do have a death wish." Then it hit them—something heavy, invisible, yet suffocating.
Jason's bloodlust flooded the air like a crushing wave. Every nerve in the room tensed. The guards froze, their fingers trembling on the triggers, their legs turning to dead weight beneath them.
The pressure was thick, almost physical, like the room itself had shrunk around them. "What is this?" KGBeast muttered under his breath, his eye darting nervously.
"What are you?"Red Hood didn't answer. He just raised his pistol and fired. Five rapid shots resounded through the silence like thunder. In an instant, the sound of bodies dropping followed—heavy thuds echoing down the staircase. Four guards went down clean, each with a bullet neatly between the eyes.
Only KGBeast remained standing, his blade raised just in time to deflect the last bullet that had been aimed for his skull. The impact sparked against his weapon, the bullet ricocheting into the wall.
"Still standing?" Red Hood said, shifting his stance and cocking his gun. KGBeast's lips curled into a cold grin. "This ends now." The mechanical gears in his arm whined as the weapon shifted, reconfiguring.
The sound deepened into a low hum as blue light began to gather at the muzzle. His gun was transforming into an energy blaster—its glow intensifying with every second. Red Hood's mind raced. He couldn't take that hit nor could he effectively evade it, not with his leg in this state.
He needed to think fast.Then, his pistol snapped up—not aimed at the merc, but somewhere behind him. He fired.
KGBeast flinched at the gunfire, instinctively glancing back. For the briefest moment, confusion flickered across his face. There was nothing behind him—no trick shot, no second shooter. Just empty space and debris.
But Red Hood's accuracy had been razor-sharp all night; he wouldn't miss by accident. Unless—Realization came a fraction too late. A sharp, metallic clank split the air as a grappling hook burst from the darkness, piercing straight through KGBeast's thigh. The mercenary roared in pain, staggering forward as Red Hood leapt, using the wire for momentum.
Red Hood swung wide, the line taut as he used KGBeast's own body as leverage to pivot midair. He crashed through a side window, shards of glass scattering in the moonlight, then reappeared through the next window behind the merc, his entry marked by an explosion of broken glass.
KGBeast spun, energy blaster charged and ready, the glow casting harsh blue across his masked face.Jason didn't hesitate. He fired a single, perfectly timed shot at the blaster's muzzle.
The bullet struck home. A massive explosion erupted from KGBeast's arm—white light, heat, and shrapnel tearing through the air. The blast sent both men flying in opposite directions, crashing through debris and collapsing walls.
The shockwave rattled the floor, scattering dust and smoke through the corridor.
Red Hood hit the ground hard, his body screaming in pain. "Fuck," he groaned through his modulator, pushing himself up with shaky arms. His leg dragged behind him, blood smearing across the cracked tiles as he forced himself to move. His chest burned from the blast, his jacket torn and smoldering at the edges.
Through the settling smoke, KGBeast lay sprawled across the floor. His body was scorched, parts of his armor melted into his flesh.
The entire cybernetic arm was gone—blown clean off. Sparks sputtered from the torn socket at his shoulder, his breathing ragged and shallow. Red Hood limped closer, each step was heavy and deliberate. His pistol was steady in his hand with the barrel aimed right between the mercenary's eyes. KGBeast's remaining eye flicked up to meet the crimson mask staring down at him. He coughed, his voice broken and weak.
"What… what are you waiting for? Finish me off." Red Hood stood over him for a long moment, silent except for the sound of his own breathing. Then he shook his head.
"Nah," he said finally, lowering the gun slightly. "Death's too easy for a soldier like you. I'd rather let you live with this humiliating defeat. But if you ever cross my path again…" His voice dropped, colder than before. "I'll make sure to give you a death so slow and excruciating that you'd beg me to end your misery." KGBeast's eye flickered with disbelief, pain, and rage all at once.
Red Hood holstered his gun, turned away, and began limping down the ruined hall. The light of the moon caught on the edge of his helmet, reflecting briefly as he disappeared into the shadows.
Behind him, the mercenary's heavy breathing filled the silence, mingling with the faint crackle of burning metal and the hum of broken circuits.
- - -
That morning, Roman Sionis rolled into his office like a storm that hadn't yet decided whether to thunder or erupt. Even with his injured leg still wrapped and fresh stitches pulling at his skin, he insisted on returning to work.
He'd received medical treatment the night before, but even while sedated, his mind refused to rest. Every fiber of his wanted to know how the ambush against Red Hood had ended. The doctors had advised him to stay in the hospital for at least a few days. He laughed in their faces. Crime, after all, had no off days—and neither did the man who ruled a fragment of it.
If he disappeared for even a moment, someone would inevitably make a move to replace him. He couldn't afford to look weak, not when he ruled a city where weakness was currency. So, in his usual stubborn fashion, he discharged himself against medical advice, injected with pain killers to help ease his pain.
They set him up with a sleek black cane which has a golden lion embedded at the handle. As he made way through the elevator and corridors, he looked like a wounded king still unwilling to surrender the throne.
"When I was losing consciousness last night," he growled, walking toward the elevator, "I expected good news this morning—that Red Hood was dead and his goddamn helmet was sitting on my desk waiting for me." He spoke with an abrupt tone. "But now I'm told he's still breathing? Likely still moving around Gotham like he's untouchable?"
By the time the elevator doors opened to his private floor, his temper was simmering. Two guards stepped forward immediately to open the double doors of his office.
The moment he got inside, the air thickened. His dark oak desk gleamed under the morning light spilling through the tall windows, but it did nothing to ease the tension coiling inside him as he took his seat behind the desk. He drummed his fingers against the armrest of his chair, every tap echoing his irritation.
"He was injured—limping, barely able to stand!" Roman's voice thundered across the room. "And yet that second-rate mercenary, that overpriced half-machine, lost to him? To a man who could barely move?" Ms. Li, his ever-composed assistant, stood beside his desk with her digital tablet in hand. She'd been waiting for the eruption, and she got it.
"I've already summoned one of the surviving men from last night's operation," she said evenly. "He claims to have witnessed the end of the fight." Roman's head snapped toward her, his mask's hollow eyes catching the light. "Then where the hell is he?"
"Send him in," Ms. Li said into her earpiece, connecting to the guards outside. Moments later, the office doors creaked open and a man in his early thirties stepped in. He wore a navy-blue hoodie and scuffed black boots, looking like someone who'd rather be anywhere else.
His face was pale—either from exhaustion or sheer fear. Maybe both. "I am Kever—" Roman cut him off instantly with a whip-like tone. "I don't care who the fuck you are. You were there last night?"
"Yes, sir," the man stammered. "I was on patrol whe—"
"You mean when you and your buddies failed to protect me?" Roman's voice cracked out. "I was nearly shot by a mercenary who looked like he was weeping blood!" Ms. Li needed clarification as she glanced at the man. "Weeping blood?" The man swallowed hard.
"Y-yes. He was our team leader. During the fight, Red Hood damaged his eyes. Roman didn't speak. He just leaned back in his chair.
The survivor described the chaos, how Red Hood dismantled KGBeast and left him alive but broken. He told it in fragments, glossing over details that made him look cowardly. What he didn't say—what he couldn't bring himself to admit—was that he'd been one of the men who'd tried to assist KGBeast before everything went to hell.
He'd seen it all from the bottom of the staircase. The moment Red Hood unleashed that suffocating wave of killing intent, he froze—every instinct in his body screaming to run. Then came the shots. Five of them. Clean, precise and efficient. The four men in front of him collapsed in unison, their skulls bursting like overripe fruit.
The fifth shot was for KGBeast. He didn't need to see it to know. When their bodies rolled down the stairs, one crashed into him, lifeless eyes staring into nothing.
He hadn't dared to move. He just laid there beneath the corpse, pretending to be dead himself, trembling as he watched Red Hood limp out of the building like a ghost leaving carnage behind. When the man finished his story, the room went silent.
The tension thickened until it was almost suffocating. Roman's gloved hand rested still on the armrest of his chair.
His breathing was calm, but his aura radiated pure frustration. "Sir?" Ms. Li's voice was careful, almost soft. "Are you alright?" Roman turned slowly toward her.
The hollow sockets of his black mask gave nothing away, but his voice was cold and deliberate when he finally spoke.
"I am being forced," he said, "to consider negotiating with a lunatic for pest control."
The words hung in the air. To him, Red Hood wasn't an enemy anymore—he was a problem that Gotham's underworld itself couldn't seem to exterminate. A pest too cunning to trap and too dangerous to ignore.
Roman's fingers tightened around the armrest. "If the beast couldn't kill him," he muttered, "then I'll need someone worse."
And as Ms. Li noted something quietly on her tablet, Roman Sionis sat in silence, his mask staring out the window at the city below—thinking on how he could convince the Joker to come work for him. Or if he could even trust that lunatic to stick to the assigned job and not double cross him.
- - -
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