Frank Russo had killed twenty-three people, even before becoming a Servant of Ghira. Spending his adulthood in the military, he had trained rigorously to become as good as he could be at his job.
As a Special Forces operative, he was trained in all manners of combat. And even post-retirement, he had continued to train in a variety of martial arts, fully enhancing his training beyond what military service offered.
Finally, on his forty-third birthday, he had been chosen as a Servant. Due to his prior achievements and expertise, he was practically an instant favorite of the Forgotten King, who offered him an ability which was overwhelmingly powerful, nearly guaranteed to overcome other Servants.
Due to this, he cemented himself as the strongest Servant.
However, even despite his status and title and achievement as the strongest, he did not allow this to weaken him. Not growing cocky like every other jester within the Forgotten King's court, he trained daily to maintain his skills.
In truth, he had first and foremost desired to gamble his life. The life of a Servant itself, was one which he greatly struggled with. Not due to a moral compass, but because the threat of dying was gone.
He was even physically superior to the strongest animals in the world. He was vastly superior to the human beings, and even amongst the fellow Servants, they would surely be no match for him if he truly desired to end their lives.
That was, until Riley Woods stepped onto the stage.
Declared an "Enemy of the World," Riley Woods was, unmistakably, a kindred spirit. Someone who, rather than gleefully indulging in the pleasures of murder, continuously looked to grow in strength—someone like that was the kind of person Frank resonated deeply with.
The two were both monsters.
Distinct, set apart from every other one of Ghira's Servants.
And, surprisingly, Riley had managed to get the upper hand.
Of course, it was due to an early attack—made possible by Frank's inexperience fighting against fellow Servants—which drastically weakened him. Then followed by an unexpected attack which made use of his abilities at a much higher level than the youth had previously performed.
But, even regardless, he had managed to hold his own and even overcome the man dubbed "The Right Hand of War."
And yet, Riley had still proven himself to be incredibly wet behind the ears, not taking Frank's life.
Frank Russo had killed twenty-three people, even before becoming a Servant of Ghira. His experience was all rooted in war and in hunting—that which practically necessitated the taking of life.
And, because he was not dead, Frank would not stop fighting.
—No matter what, the battle would only end once one of them died. That was an unbreakable reality.
…
Overwhelmed.
Unable to even register the pain, which had been so exorbitant that his brain physically would not comprehend it, Riley instantly regenerated. At the cost of far too much blood, he regenerated his destroyed body in seconds, being left on the ground.
Pale and without clothes, Riley stumbled up, breathing frantically as he staggered away. The world was, shifting. Unmistakably, shifting, it was, it was not—
"Ghuhk."
Collapsing to the ground once more, Riley's breaths were shallow but rapid, having never lost this much blood without losing consciousness.
The outside world blurred, and he couldn't focus on it at all. Desperately trying to stand, his sweaty palms grabbed onto a wall for support.
"M-mghll… w-wha… wha…"
Blinking repeatedly, he turned his head, slowly walking away from Frank, trying to grab onto clothes. He barely managed to reach a gift shop, finding an employee who shrieked, grabbing her phone and running out of the store.
He grabbed onto a extra large black shirt with a pumpkin on it, putting it over himself and using [Hanging] like a belt around his thighs, ensuring he wouldn't expose himself.
On the contrary, Frank sacrificed his own blood, healing his caved in chest and springing back up, walking over to Riley with a pistol in his hand.
"You're inexperienced. I get it," Frank said, quickly lumbering over and grabbing Riley by the hair, pinning his head against the wall.
Weak and fragile, Riley's face grimaced, his chin tilted upwards and forced to look into Frank's eyes.
"But that's not an excuse. You did well. No. No, I won't speak like that."
Seeing an employee trying to flee, Frank shot him in the back of the leg, to which Riley's swimming eyes vocalized a grunt, trying to call out for him to stop, yet ultimately failing.
Frank let go of Riley, letting the youth drop to the floor as he walked over to the employee and stripped them of their pants, tossing them back over to Riley.
"I won't say 'you did well.' You're still alive, so we're not done yet, are we? Put your pants on and get back up. If you can stand, you can fight. If you can crawl, you can fight. If you can bite, you can fight. I'm not stopping until you're dead."
Riley, hardly able to hear him and quickly putting on the pants, felt his throat extremely dry. Wanting to vomit, he wished to—
"Blegh…"
Hardly even coughing it up, a weird green expelled from the bottom of his throat and onto the ground. Slowly climbing to his feet, he grabbed a water-bottle one of the employees had kept around, and chugged. Drinking, drinking, he downed as much water as he could, yet he still felt thirsty.
[Hanging], tied around his thighs, moved up to his chest and lifted him up into the air, keeping him standing.
Unsummoning the pistol, Frank marched over to Riley with clenched fists and wound it back, smashing his knuckles into Riley's cheek and sending him against the wall. Not allowing for Riley to recuperate, Frank struck him with a left hook to the body, followed by an overhand right with enough force to smash through the wall and send Riley hurtling to the ground.
"Keep fighting. Fight with everything you have. If you don't fight, you'll die. Surely you must understand that better than anyone."
Riley was grabbed by the neck, thrown towards a carousel. His shoulder smashed into a pole, leaving him on the floor as he tried to stand.
Shit, shit, shitshitshitshitshit.
Am I, am I… when, when am I… when am I going to die? How much longer? Shit, shit… Wouldn't it be better to… son of a… you, you… when, when am I…?
Frank had reached him. Grabbing his neck and pinning him against a mechanical horse, Frank summoned a hatchet and held it over his neck.
"My ability is given due to my service in war, and yours was given due to your thoughts. Our values are different, yet you're the only Servant I've felt connected to. You're not like the rest of them. I want you to continue fighting."
Hearing a child's cry, Frank glanced over, seeing a little boy without his parents, standing still and crying.
"...You tried your best to be a hero. I'll honor that, for now at least."
Turning his gaze away, Frank grabbed Riley's throat and pulled him back, before slamming him through the metal once more, breaking it apart and sending the youth sprawling to the ground.
"Even still, I'm becoming irritated. Or, perhaps I'm just being ungrateful. You did a good job. If you can't fight back, I'll just kill you, right here, right now."
Summoning a 44. Magnum himself, Frank pressed the barrel directly against Riley's head.
"Or, if you want to continue, then you can fight, and I'll continue to 'fight' you, until I've beaten you to death."
Looking up, Riley's eyes locked with the older man's.
Am I going to die? When, when, when am I… no, no, nonono, I… ah. Don't I want to die?
Swallowing the spit building up in his throat, he genuinely asked that question to himself. In his state, of such weakness and struggle, his mind had once more returned to the "escape" it had considered for many years.
A small tear forming in his eye, he concluded that the urge to die would not leave him. Even if he waged war against despair, he did not believe that he would ever truly be rid of it. And yet,
"Hk."
The war on despair and hopelessness was not over.
Even if he still deeply considered suicide, having not yet broken that habit, he recognized it himself. —The war he waged against despair was not yet over.
I will not die.
The automatic regeneration given to all of Ghira's servants had supplied his body with enough blood to have very basic functions, removing him from the cusp of losing consciousness. Hearing it himself, he resonated with the crying children around him, who were overwhelmed with fear.
Having locked eyes with his opponent, Riley used [Shooting], blowing a small hole through Frank's stomach, forcing him backwards. Stumbling away, Riley lifted himself up with [Hanging], small giggles under his breath.
I want to die. I understand that, and I accept that. I don't think I'll ever be able to truly get rid of these thoughts.
In the back of my mind, there will always be a small voice calling out to me; even if I'm in a good spot or a bad spot, that voice will call my name. But that's fine. That's fine.
"Keheh," Riley laughed, slicking his hair back with his sweaty palms, removing the hair from his eyes, preventing himself from being blinded. "That's right, it's fine. —I'll live a meaningful life, even with these struggles."
Even if he wouldn't always win, Riley Woods promised himself that he would never stop fighting.
His eyes shining with a determination Frank had yet to see from him, Riley summoned [Bleeding].
"No more healing. This time, we're playing for keeps."
Both Servants had lost too much blood to sacrifice for their own healing. At this level of combat, almost any injury would guarantee the necessity to sacrifice lots of blood, which would guarantee death.
Frank Russo—unmistakably, he smiled.
"I couldn't agree more," he declared, instantly summoning an Uzi and aiming to spray Riley with a maelstrom of bullets. To which, the youth summoned [Crashing], hiding behind the car as his go-to defense against guns.
Naturally, Frank summoned a sniper rifle, aiming to blow through the car and hit Riley, regardless of his defense. Yet,
"Tch," he clicked, a rope forcibly turning the gun upwards just before he fired, causing the bullet to fly off into the air. In response, Riley peeked out over the car's hood, summoning [Shooting] and aiming for Frank's head.
Opening fire, he forced Frank to flee, running off to the ferris wheel and hiding inside one of the passenger cars.
Yet, annoyingly enough, Riley had nearly emptied [Shooting], leaving just two bullets left.
My aim's terrible… How did he do that, again? His pistol was super-duper close to his body, wasn't it?
Sending out [Hanging] to ensure there would be no more sniper-rifle attacks, Riley unsummoned [Crashing].
I should be able to stand right now. If that's the case, then I don't need [Hanging] to support me right now.
Stumbling, Riley's breaths were still quick, as he'd not regenerated all of his blood back. Even still, he was able to mobilize himself.
Able to summon three [Methods] at once, his voice rang out like a bell—a hoarse one at that.
"Up 'til now, I've only been using one method at a time, whenever possible! I wanted to prove that the massacre was pointless, that I didn't need it to be strong. But I don't think that's necessary."
Simply because it was a massacre of human beings—regardless of their crimes—he considered it pointless, and an abhorrent thing.
Therefore,
"I'm done holding back. Watch, Ghira. Take a good look as the Failed Star shines upon your stage and wrecks shop."
Kicking off the ground, he summoned one more [Hanging], which wrapped around Frank's body. As he struggled to remove it, Riley leapt into the air, using [Falling] to unleash a mighty Superman Punch to Frank's jaw, knocking him against the glass of the passenger car and shattering it.
Frank summoned a grenade, pulling the pin and dropping it to the floor. At such close range, it was a guaranteed—
"Oh-shit!"
Riley leapt out, narrowly avoiding the heat of the blast before the shrapnel launched at him, cutting him open in several areas as his ears flooded with ringing.
Holding his ears, Riley saw an uninjured Frank holding a pistol close to his body, ready to shoot. Just as Riley was immune to [Bleeding], so too Frank was immune to his own explosives.
Yet, with [Hanging] wrapped around his torso, he was flown out into the air. His ascension was not going to be limited, and thus Riley planned to ship him off into space.
But, of course, [Hanging] was just a rope.
Easily cut open, [Hanging] lost its hold over Frank, who now entered a free-fall.
Well, even that's good, isn't it? I don't think there's a weapon that can make him fly. So, if it's like that, then—
A helicopter was summoned into the world, with Frank smashing into the side and standing within it.
Taking full advantage of his status as Ghira's favorite Servant, Frank was allowed it. For the first thirty seconds of the helicopter's existence, it would not need to be piloted.
The Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk had been his choice of landing.
Looming over the amusement park, the helicopters whirs incredibly loud, Frank had figured out how to overcome [Hanging].
The moment that rope was severed, just like a true noose, it lost any holding power. Completely, that was the method to overcome that extreme annoyance.
Riley, too, sensed it. [Hanging] had been disconnected from the world, and thus he was left without options to reach the man inside of the helicopter.
I can't use [Hanging] to trip and force him out of it. Wait, is that a—
Immediately leaping to the side, he then heard the sound of metal colliding with concrete. Indeed, upon inspection as to his prior standing position, there was no mistaking it.
Son of a gun, he's gonna try to snipe me?!
Even from that overwhelming altitude, [Crashing] likely wouldn't be enough of a shield, thus forcing Riley to constantly evade. Or, perhaps,
I haven't used this one in a while, have I?
At the amusement park, there were plenty of games themed around the Halloween season. Most notably, dunking for apples.
A Halloween game in which the player puts their head in water to bite an apple—yes, Riley made use of it. Taking water from the various stands, he used [Drowning] to form a solid "roof" over his head.
And, assuming water was akin to concrete at a certain point—
The next shot that fired resulted in a bruise on Riley's body. It certainly heart, but it was not the obliterating shot that it otherwise would be, without [Drowning].
After sitting there for over thirty seconds, the helicopter then needed a pilot. However, Frank refused to take up that role, instead leaping out of it with such force that it changed the massive object's direction—heading straight for the ferris wheel.
The helicopter, its rotators completely stopping, was sent hurtling towards the ground as though a meteorite.
That, then, had been Frank's ultimatum.
With his strength, Frank would most likely survive the plummet. However, if Riley could meet him at his landing spot, the fall would undoubtedly incur enough damage to give Riley an easy victory.
However, that would be at the cost of the civilian's lives. As expected of a Ferris wheel, there were dozens of people inside. Undeniably, if it hit, then those dozens of people inside would be killed.
—If it hit.
Recalling what had happened once Riley sliced one of Frank's guns in half, he smiled. Back then, he'd been pushed to near-death, managing to escape it by bisecting one of Frank's summons, causing it to automatically be deleted from existence the moment it no longer functioned properly.
Leaping up to the very top, he stood on the moving Ferris wheel, struggling to balance himself. He heard crying underneath him, that of a child's weeping as the helicopter was nearing its impact.
"Hey, hey!" Riley shouted, peering down and seeing the boy's face contorted in fear, his mother desperately hugging him in an attempt to comfort. Riley flashed a silly grin, speaking gently. "It'll be alright. Trust me—I've got you, okay? Leave it aaaalll to me."
Licking his lips, Riley stood straight up. In his hands, a kitchen knife was summoned into the world.
His heart racing with anticipation, seeing the looming threat falling upon him, he planted his feet firmly into the car's square top. A deep exhale, the air travelling through his lungs and out from his lips, Riley faced the devastating impact with resolve and determination.
Surely, with even just this kitchen knife, he would change the course of these people's lives forever.
Hurtling, rocketing, plummeting. The great heap of metal, forged by centuries of human innovation, was descending upon the world.
No—rather, it was descending upon "their" worlds. After all, with so many lives at stake, it could be said that it was their worlds at risk of evisceration.
—Cut it down.
That three-word phrase had popped into his head. Pleasing to his anxious heart, it was most certainly inspiring.
——Cut it down.
Repeating it, he clung to those words in preparation. There, the helicopter flooded his vision in black due to the overwhelming size. Without question, even his own life was at stake, with no room for regeneration should it crash into his body and crush him to death under its gargantuan weight.
Yet, make no mistake.
———I will cut it down.
…
Unmistakable.
From the eyes of a child, whose passenger cart had been thrashed violently by the explosive takeoff—an abnormality, a lightning-in-a-bottle moment, an extraordinary event—he had unmistakably captured within his eyes.
Wielding but a kitchen knife, Riley Woods had unmistakably torn through the helicopter.
Having glided across it, he had traveled around it in a circular motion, straight across the middle. In one grand slash, he had split the military helicopter in two—and promptly erased it from the world.
There was hardly even a grand noise. No overpowering scent either. Merely, a cut had been inflicted, and that had been that.
"Alrighty folks!" Riley called out, slowly flying down to the ground before landing. "Just hold onto the nooses—trust me, they're safe. But please don't let go; it's not good."
Using three [Hanging's], Riley took a bit of extra time to secure the civilians off of the ride, sitting still and clapping as they were rescued.
"Hooray!! Kids, I hope you had some fun—maybe got a bit of excitement. And parents, I hope you got stories to tell your Facebook friends about! Or, whatever you older folks do—teehee!"
Doing his best to feign extroversion, Riley waved at all of the civilians, peering and making sure none of them were hurt before turning back around and using his sixth sense. Picking up on where Frank Russo was, his smile faded.
"Alrighty y'all, I've got to deal with him. So please, stay put unless new danger arrives~! I'll let you all know when it's clear to move around—that nasty guy's still around here, after all. Blegh!"
Sticking his tongue out and closing one eye, he tried his best to make a silly face to lighten the mood before summoning [Shooting], unexpectedly startling the parents who saw the youth pull out a gun.
That's right. I have to stop him.
Grabbing onto [Hanging], he flew through the air, eventually reaching Frank and looming overhead, his gaze turned down to face the man.
"Hey. You almost killed a lot of people there, y'know."
"That's right."
Frank, having damaged his tendons from the fall, struggled to stand. His eyes narrowed, looking at the gun in Riley's hand.
"Are you going to kill me now?" Frank asked. It wasn't exactly that he was trying to somehow talk Riley out of it. Rather, it was a genuine question, unsure of Riley's next actions.
Riley had, at one time, shown mercy to Frank. But now, having actively endangered multiple innocent people—children included—whether or not Riley would take his life was up in the air.
"—I can still fight, after all," Frank declared, not willing to concede.
"...Ah, yeah. Well… I was really hoping you could, y'know, not do that? I mean, I've still got no way to access handgun ammo, being a minor and all that. I was thinking you could—"
"Not a chance. One of us dies today. I won't back down on that."
Riley looked down, quite literally twiddling with his thumbs.
"That's… a problem. Listen. I'm trying to fight against despair and hopelessness… Actually, saying that out loud is a bit embarrassing. Still, it's the truth."
His chin tilting up, Riley showed his resolve to Frank, dropping [Shooting] to the ground.
"I'm fighting against the despair of the world. Anything in this world that causes people pain, I want to do my best to help. Having your help would be extremely beneficial."
"I see. Well, in that case—"
The next moment, Frank summoned a rocket launcher, and—,
Nope.
[Hanging] turned the rocket launcher upwards, firing it into the air. Then, Riley quickly darted towards Frank, summoning [Shooting] in his hand. Riley pointed the gun out, seemingly trying to jam it into Frank's mouth.
Just as he had attempted in their very first fight. Doing the same thing he did back then, Frank was easily able to disarm Riley—
—It had not been so.
Riley quickly retracted the gun, putting it close to his body. The revolver had been aimed by Riley using his torso and hips rather than his arms, a technique he took from Frank.
He shot once—to the chest.
The revolver shot, having extraordinary power, blew a hole through Frank's sternum, forcing him backwards.
"Kgh," Frank grunted, still standing. Looking down, he saw his gaping wound. And, trying to heal it up, he only healed so much before he once more felt the effects of extreme blood-loss.
There, unmistakably, had been a smile.
"Not so wet behind the ears…" Frank praised.
Riley Woods, having learned from his mistakes, had refused to let his guard down totally around Frank, seemingly keeping a [Hanging] behind the man at all times. As well, he'd even snatched an idea from him, refusing to get his gun stolen so easily this time.
Frank, remaining standing, had a satisfied smirk. He nodded his head.
He'd lost to a youngin. Someone who he resonated with deeply, being the only Servants who didn't enjoy killing those weaker than them.
"Not a bad final hunt," Frank thought, before pointing at his forehead with his index finger. "Take the shot."
At the end of the day, this is what he longed for most. To die in a final battle—the very last thrilling he'd experience as a Servant, someone who was vastly superior to every other combatant.
"...No."
Riley put the gun away, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders, putting his hands up.
"Nah, I'm not gonna kill you. Your attitude reminds me way too much of myself, and it's scaring me a bit. That's why, instead…"
Riley summoned [Crashing], walking over to Frank and helping the older man sit down on the car's hood. Riley sat down next to him, crossing his legs and looking out around at the amusement park.
"Instead, I'll comfort you as you die. Or listen. Or even just sit in silence—it's not a big deal to me, really."
The sky was becoming dark. Indeed, it was a dark sky, a lovely moon shining upon the world.
It was a Halloween Event. Even if not actually Halloween, there were plenty of decorative lights, and the aura of Halloween was overwhelming—in a good way.
The kids were all decorated in their funny costumes, the teenagers were all decorated in their less funny costumes, and the parents all seemed to be relieved that their children were safe at the moment, hugging them tightly.
"...Y'know, it's a beautiful world," Riley stated.
"...I figured… egk, that you'd dislike the world. It's your title, after all."
In pain from having a broken sternum, Frank heaved labored breaths.
"Pfft, no way! Well, I guess… I don't really think the world is valuable by itself. But I think humans are valuable. 'Enemy of the World' is moreso just because Ghira's influence is all over the world—thus, I'm an enemy of the world, in that sense. Hm. Actually, who did you dress up as for Halloween when you were a kid?"
"Michael Myers."
"Woah, really? Man… man, that movie's old! Jeez! Hehehe, if you could dress up as Michael again this year, would you?"
"...Perhaps."
Riley smiled, wrapping his arm around Frank's shoulder, causing the older man to groan in distaste.
"Pfft, haha! Yeah, that's the spirit. Man… I really like Halloween. It's my favorite frickin' holiday, y'know? The candy, the horror movies… yeah. It's all so much fun."
"..."
Glancing off to the side, Riley looked at Frank. Upon using his sixth sense, he found that Frank was no longer among the living.
"Ah…"
He got off of [Crashing], picking up the body of the older man and setting him down on the ground. Looking down at him, Riley softly smiled.
"...Yeah. Happy Halloween, Frank."