The echoing thuds of the Black Panther's punches shook the walls, and Ryu carefully watched where the stone fragments fell. Each impact created a rhythm that further disrupted the chaotic balance of the environment. The Panther's eyes flashed with rage, the energy coursing through the room creating an almost tangible weight. But Ryu focused directly on the boy lying on the ground.
The boy crying out in agony… His face was almost deathly pale; his eyes, too afraid to even look at him, were too afraid to look at him. Realizing the Panther's attention was completely clouded by his anger, Ryu decided to act on a cold, decisive thought.
"This is my only chance to draw him out while his attention is elsewhere," he thought, emerging from his hiding place and lunging for the boy. Before he could take a step, however, footsteps were heard from a dark corner. Ryu turned his head and stared at the three shadows emerging from the space with unsettling slowness.
All three emerged from the darkness of the corridor in uneasy unison. The man walking in front was frighteningly thin, with not a single hair on his head. The pallor of her skin seemed to belong to someone who hadn't seen the light of day for years. Next to her stood a slightly overweight man with a noticeably receding hairline. His eyes were vacant, his movements dragging numbly. The last was a woman with a grotesque allure, with her long brown hair and excessively disheveled attire. She possessed a certain allure characteristic of a prostitute, but it was a charm that was deeply distorted and disturbing.
The three of them were arm in arm, but the union seemed the product of a forced harmony. Their every step echoed with the splatters of beer that fell to the floor. The woman held the bottle in her hand with only two fingers. She swung the bottle haphazardly, the words spilling from her mouth blurring into the air:
"Hey~ Romean, have some more alcohol, you fat man!" Her tone hovered on the edge of a sneer, but the rottenness within her rang like a resounding warning in Ryu's mind.
Half asleep, the fat man leaned over her and tried to kiss her. His movements were filled with the uncontrollableness of a drunk. But Ryu realized this wasn't simply a drunken hangover. There was a subtlety, even a purpose, to every movement.
The bald man in the back slowly lifted his head. His blurry eyes suddenly cleared, and he turned his attention to the Black Panther. The Panther's furious fists continued to echo off the wall. The bald man's blurry gaze, after watching the Black Panther's fists for a moment, dissolved into a dull smile. The words from his lips echoed in a heavy tone, almost permeating the air with the scent of alcohol between them:
"Ah… look at that! That wall… what did it do to you that makes you jump on me like that, my black friend?" The sarcastic tone in her voice was insidious enough to fuel the Panther's rage even further.
The woman behind him chuckled, then raised the bottle to her head and waved it around. "Maybe… if that wall could talk like us… it wouldn't be so violent. Right, Romean?"
The overweight man grunted in response to the woman's words. "It's not just a talking wall… look, if that black man could talk… the world would be a lot more… fun." His words were slurred by the intensity of the alcohol.
Black Panther turned his head for a moment, his eyes burning with anger at their frivolous words. But he didn't stop his fists; his hands continued to smash the wall as if with an oath. As if emboldened by this carelessness, the bald man took a few more steps, stepping closer to the Panther.
His feet weren't firmly planted on the ground, each step a shaky one. Lifting his arm slightly, he muttered something like a friend:
"Hey, hey, calm down. That wall... I'm sure he apologized. Or... if he had the chance, he would... wouldn't he?"
The woman giggled even more at these words. "Romean, my friend, that man doesn't give a damn about us! Hey, Black Devil, what do you say? You want to share a drink with us?"
When Black Panther stopped slamming his hands against the wall, the room suddenly fell dead silent.
The silence echoing behind Black Panther's fists tightened the tension in the room like an invisible thread, and Ryu struggled to control his breathing. He glanced sideways at the boy among the stones. He was still trembling with fear. His mind was carefully formulating a plan of action while he watched the pressure on Black Panther. He said nothing, his eyes fixed impassively on the scene before him.
The bald man, however, leaned toward him, still off-balance. "Ah, why are you so quiet, my friend?" the bald man muttered, lightly touching Black Panther's shoulder.
His breath, thick with alcohol, made the air heavy. "I know you've had a rough day. But this much seriousness isn't common among friends… Loosen up a bit, huh?" Ryu noticed that Black Panther's face remained unchanged.
His anger, now a fiery explosion in his fists, had shifted to a rippling restlessness that spread through his body. But his silence was more terrifying than anything else.
Ryu saw the focus in his eyes and his body trembled involuntarily. Black Panther glanced at the bald man's outstretched arm. The very movement was as slow and relentless as the movement of a rock. For seconds, the scene seemed frozen.
Then, the Panther moved his arm slightly. The bald man suddenly lost his balance in the void and fell to the ground. A loud thud echoed across the floor.
The man, sprawled on the ground, tried to sit up with a drunken groan. "Oh, man… that wasn't friendly," he muttered. But the Panther didn't even look at him.
Meanwhile, Ryu moved silently. He dropped to his knees and crawled toward the boy. The boy's gasps echoed in the stillness. He gently grabbed his shoulder and tried to lift him. "Calm down… we have to move quietly," he whispered. The boy nodded slightly, seeming to understand Ryu's words.
But at that very moment, the overweight man took an angry step toward Black Panther. His eyes flashed with anger beyond the alcohol's influence. "You… you knocked my friend down! Who are you to act like this?!" he shouted. The vibrations in his voice echoed off the walls of the room. He raised the bottle in his hand. Its shining glass surface reflected menacingly in the dim light of the room.
Black Panther cocked his head slightly to the side and looked at the fat man. The frozen smile on his face reflected a serenity tinged with mockery. There was no fear, no concern in his eyes. Only that smile remained unwavering as he watched the fat man make his move.
A momentary shadow of darkness loomed over the room as the man tried to bring the bottle down on Black Panther's head. The fat man's blow sliced through the air, but Ryu froze for a moment. The man's hand… had been severed where his arm should have been. Blood gushed from the area, staining the floor and the man's clothes a dark red.
For a moment, the man lay motionless, unable to comprehend what was happening. His eyes searched for his severed arm, still clutching the bottle. But a wave of agony suddenly reached him. His screams filled the room. As the air filled with blood, Black Panther stood like a statue amidst the chaos. The smile remained the same, as if this was all just some trivial amusement.
"I think we… played a little too hard," Black Panther muttered. His voice was so low and calm that goosebumps rose on everyone who heard it.
The rhythm of terror echoed through the street, filled with the smell of blood, metal, and destruction. The woman's screams faded like a muffled echo off the walls, and Ryu's only thought was to get out of here quickly. The young child's trembling body felt light as a feather in his arms, but the weight of fear crushed Ryu's shoulders. He had to run. Now.
But the bald man, who had fallen to the ground, began to move again. His eyes burned in a dark maelstrom of rage and madness. Blood-soaked fingers reached for the knife at his waist and pulled it out like a predator.
"Die!" the man spat. The words trembled in the room like an echo, tinged with alcohol and anger. "Die, son of a bitch!"
The moment the man ran, knife swinging, time seemed to slow. The Black Panther's presence, spurred on like a nightmare, lurked in the midst of this life-or-death moment.
"Heh."
A single word. It pierced the air with a low, mocking, and deadly tone. The sound from Black Panther's lips instantly drowned out all reality in the room. The bald man's steps faltered for a moment. The anger in his eyes gave way to a strange confusion. His knife was still raised, but he could no longer move forward or down.
The whispers from the man's lips were mixed with fear and confusion.
"What… What's happening? Wait… Why is everything upside down?"
But the bald man's thoughts were cut off by a cold wave of awareness. His gaze dropped to the floor, and he saw his body a step ahead. He blinked, but the image remained unchanged. He barely registered the separation of his head from his body before his consciousness was flung into a black void.
Black Panther watched the headless body fall. He followed the severed head's tumble to the ground in silence. He walked slowly to the head and, his head tilted slightly, stared at it as if trying to understand. Then a heavy smile spread across his lips. He placed his foot on her head and gently pressed down. The crushing sound tore into the silence. Blood and bone splinters splattered, but the Black Panther's eyes held no remorse or emotion.
The woman's hysterical screams filled the room. Tears stained her face, and she staggered back in panic. Falling to the ground, she tried to crawl backward in terror. But the Black Panther's dark voice took control of the room once more.
"Hold on," he said, the calmness in his voice carrying the sharpest edge of fear. "No ruining the game."
He snapped his fingers, and the echo echoed, silencing the entire world. The woman froze in place. Her eyes were wide with terror, her hands rigid. A force she could not comprehend seized her body. In one last desperate attempt, she tried to scream, but it was too late.
In an instant, her body was torn apart. With a horrific screech, the woman was transformed into a pool of blood in the blink of an eye. Chunks of flesh and blood formed a grotesque picture on the floor. Black Panther silently stepped forward. His eyes held no pity or remorse. He bent his head slightly, minding his own business. His lips, as always, wore that faint, cold smile.