Chapter 131: The Comedy of Carnage
While Kai and Daren fought with grim efficiency in their tunnel, a symphony of a completely different genre was playing out just a few hundred meters away. Here, the atmosphere was less like a life-or-death struggle and more like a chaotic, and brutally hilarious, playground.
Moon stood, his newly christened sword Ikazuchi held loosely in his bandage-wrapped hands. The dark, massive odachi looked like it could cleave a building in two.
Ryo Hale glanced at the premium weapon and snorted. "Looks expensive," he grunted, his voice a low rumble. "My hands are enough." He didn't wait for a reply. He simply walked forward, into the sea of black-suited assassins.
He had been inside for barely a second. The first sounds weren't clangs of metal or battle cries, but high-pitched, terrified shrieks. Ryo emerged from the initial scrum not with a weapon, but with three human heads clutched in his grimy hands. They hadn't been cleanly severed by a blade. It looked like they had been ripped directly from their bodies with pure, brute force, the flesh at the necks ragged and torn.
Another group of assassins, enraged by the sight, charged him. Ryo, without even looking, casually tossed the heads at them. The projectiles flew with surprising force, impacting the lead assassins' own skulls with a sickening, wet crunch that resulted in a grisly explosion of bone and brain matter. Ryo continued walking forward, stepping over the twitching bodies as if they were mere puddles.
An assassin lunged at him with a knife. Ryo didn't block or dodge. He simply threw a straight punch. His fist didn't just strike the man's stomach; it sank deep into the torso with a nauseating squelch, the knuckles bursting out through the assassin's spine in a spray of gore. Ryo pulled his arm back, shaking off the blood and viscera with a flick of his wrist.
"Are these guys weak or what?" Ryo complained aloud to no one in particular, his tone one of genuine disappointment. "I'm not even getting to use my element."
Meanwhile, Moon was creating his own masterpiece of violence. His Ikazuchi moved in wide, devastating arcs, a downpour of brutal slashes. The dark blade was no longer dark; it was drenched from tip to hilt in a thick, glistening coat of crimson. Bodies and pieces of bodies flew around him.
"Man, this sword is awesome!" Moon declared with a wide, manic grin. He shot a glance at Ryo in the distance, effortlessly disemboweling another assassin with his bare hands. Moon's grin widened. "But..." he continued his monologue, "it doesn't have the same fun as using your fists."
As if making a simple decision about what to eat for lunch, Moon willed the monstrous Ikazuchi away. It vanished in a shimmer of light back into his storage ring. He then cracked his knuckles and waded back into the fray.
BOOM! A punch sent an assassin flying into the wall, leaving a crater.
DHAAAM!A kick shattered a ribcage with an audible snap.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"Moon's unhinged laughter echoed.
"ALU ALU ALU ALU ALU ALU ALU!"he chanted nonsensically with every strike, a bizarre war cry that confused his victims more than it intimidated them.
The sounds reached Ryo, who was in the process of using one assassin as a club to beat two others. He paused, the human club dangling in his grip. What kind of lunatic did Tom pair me with? he thought, utterly bewildered. And what does 'Alu Alu' even mean? Is he from some remote tribe? He chose to ignore the fact that he himself smelled like a garbage dump that hadn't been collected in a month.
Suddenly, Moon was right behind him. Not with a hostile move, but with a light, almost playful poke in Ryo's side. "Hey," Moon said, his tone mock-offended. "How dare you call me a tribe guy? And you, take a whiff of yourself! Go on, smell!"
Ryo, still holding the unconscious "club," shrugged. "Didn't say anything wrong," he grumbled, though a corner of his mouth twitched.
The surrounding assassins, who had momentarily paused their attacks, stared in utter confusion. Were these two... having a domestic argument in the middle of a battlefield?
One assassin, lowering his knife, turned to his comrade. "Is our job done? Can we go home now?"
But another, either braver or more foolish, saw an opening and lunged at the distracted duo with a spear. Moon and Ryo immediately stopped their bickering and turned their heads in perfect unison, giving the spearman a deadpan, sideways glare.
The assassin froze mid-lunge. The sheer, unconcerned power radiating from the two men made his blood run cold. Very slowly, very carefully, he placed his spear on the ground, folded his legs, and sat down, assuming a meditative pose as if to say, "I am no longer a participant in this madness."
The seated assassin, perhaps hoping to speed things along, nervously piped up. "Sirs... if this argument is holding up the massacre, maybe you could settle it with a quick game of rock-paper-scissors?"
Moon's eyes lit up. "Good idea!" he declared.
And so, in the middle of a tunnel littered with corpses, under the stunned gaze of dozens of hesitant assassins, Moon and Ryo began their best tournament.
"Stone! Paper! Scissors!" they chanted together.
Two fists came out. Moon had chosen scissors. Ryo had chosen stone.
"Aww, no!" Moon whined, his voice taking on a childlike tone. "No, no! That was just a trial round! Best of three! It has to be best of three!"
Ryo brought his stone-clenched fist up to his mouth, a low, rumbling chuckle escaping his lips. "Heh."
"Forget it!" Moon suddenly snapped, his mood shifting instantly. He turned and delivered a single, devastating punch directly to the face of the seated assassin who had suggested the game. The man was thrown back, lifeless, before he could even process the betrayal.
Moon then turned back to the remaining assassins, a wild look back in his eyes. "Right, where were we?" he said, and plunged back into the fray. For good measure, he summoned Kuro. The raven-black fox cub appeared and in a flash of dark light, transformed into his adult form—a creature the size of a polar bear, with sleek black fur now marked with ominous, glowing red patterns. Kuro let out a deep growl and began happily devouring assassins whole, adding a new layer of horror to the already chaotic scene.
The fight, if it could be called that, was proceeding with ridiculous ease. Until, that is, a crushing, heavy presence descended upon the tunnel. It was a pressure that screamed of raw, untamed power, a signature that could only belong to a King-level hunter. Ryo immediately stopped, his playful demeanor vanishing. Moon paused mid-"Alu," his head tilting. Even the remaining assassins froze, a mixture of fear and hope on their faces.
But the most shocking thing wasn't the presence itself. It was the look on Moon and Ryo's faces. Their mocking grins vanished, replaced by raw, unfiltered shock. Moon's eyes widened in disbelief, while Ryo's jaw tightened, the knuckles of his fists turning white. They weren't looking at the source of the pressure like everyone else.
They were staring at a figure stepping out of the shadows.
A figure they both knew.
For the first time, Moon and Ryo looked rattled. Truly rattled.