My whole body felt like it was on fire, not the usual hot, roaring kind, but a cold, gnawing blaze that burned from the inside out.Every breath scraped against my lungs, and every muscle twitched like an overloaded circuit.
Still, I've felt worse.I've been set on fire before. Five times.So yeah… I can take this.
I forced my eyes open and looked down. Something sharp was jutting out of my side, a spear, slick with blood and steel. But that wasn't the weird part.
The weird part was what was holding it.
A mouse.
Or at least… that's what I thought at first.
"What the hell…" I hissed, blinking through the haze.
The "mouse" squeaked… no, shouted. A rough, tiny voice came from somewhere near my waist. I blinked again, focusing past the pain.
Not a mouse. A man.A very small man. Like, action-figure small.
He was clinging to the spear like a knight trying to slay a giant, except I was the giant.
"What the hell… He ain't budging!" another voice shouted from the front.
Right. The big guy. The one who started this whole mess.Because of course, the universe can't let me have one peaceful drink.
With what little strength I had left, I grabbed the hulking bastard by the collar and threw him at the miniature one. Both of them hit the wall with a crunch that would've been satisfying if my vision wasn't already fading at the edges.
The poison made my limbs heavy, my blood sluggish. My heart was doing this weird stop-start rhythm, like it couldn't decide if it still wanted to work today.But I wasn't dead yet. Not even close.
The big guy recovered first, mercs like him always did. Built like walking mountains, dumb as bricks, tough as steel.
He roared and came swinging, a freight train of meat and muscle. His fist whooshed past my cheek, close enough to stir the air.
He was faster than before… or maybe I was just slower.
Still, I blocked.Still, I countered.Still, I moved.
My knuckles slammed into his solar plexus. He coughed blood, and I followed up with a kick to his jaw that sent him staggering backward.
Fifteen bottles of alcohol still swimming in my system, poison crawling through my veins, and this guy still wasn't the worst hangover I've ever had.
For a brief, stupid moment, I thought maybe this would be the end of it.
Then pain exploded in my leg.
A burning, needling sting tore through muscle and bone.
The tiny bastard had stabbed me again, right in the thigh this time.
I gritted my teeth and kicked him away, wrenching the spear out with a wet, tearing sound. My leg screamed, but I forced myself upright just in time to block another kick from the mountain man.
It connected harder this time, shoving me a few steps back. My balance wobbled. My lungs wheezed. My heartbeat stuttered again.
'Oh… great,' I thought. 'The poison's actually winning now.'
But fine. Let it. I've had worse dance partners.
I slammed a fist into the brute's ribs, felt bone give under my knuckles, and followed up with a headbutt that would've concussed anyone else.He barely flinched. He was smiling through the blood, the kind of grin only idiots and zealots can manage.
"Still standing, huh?" I muttered, breath hitching. "That's cute."
He came again, throwing wild punches, no technique, no rhythm, just hate and adrenaline.I deflected most, some grazed me, a few landed harder than I liked. Each hit drained a little more of the light from my body.
The bar was chaos now. Tables shattered, bottles burst into glass dust, and people screamed outside.I couldn't tell if Ken was long gone or watching from a safe distance like the coward he was.Probably the latter.
The small one darted back in, spear flashing like a sliver of lightning.He was faster than me now, way faster.The poison had turned my reflexes into syrup.
But I still caught him.Barely.
I twisted, grabbed his ankle mid-swing, and slammed him into the larger man like a baseball bat hitting a home run.Both of them crashed into the wall hard enough to crater it.
I didn't stop.Couldn't stop.
I lunged forward, fists flying, each punch heavier than the last.Cracking ribs. Shattering bones. The air reeked of blood and dust and rage.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears like a war drum trying to drown out my thoughts. My vision went red at the edges.
But even then… even through the haze… a strange calm settled in.I wasn't angry. I wasn't even afraid.
Just… tired.
How many times had I done this dance?How many nameless mercs had I fought?How many meaningless fights before the next contract, the next betrayal, the next near-death?
Maybe that's what being "the best" really meant, you outlive everyone long enough to realize none of it matters.
The smaller one broke free, slippery little bastard. He darted under my guard, faster than my drugged reflexes could follow.I caught the gleam of a syringe in his hand.
Before I could react, he jammed it into my chest.
Cold. Sharp. Deep.
Right near the heart.
A burning ache spread instantly. Not fire this time, more like ice water pouring straight into my veins.
I staggered, gasping. My muscles seized. My vision fractured into shards of light.
"Well… that's new," I managed, coughing blood. "Didn't even buy me dinner first…"
The little man grinned, teeth red. The big one was barely standing behind him, breathing like a dying bear. Both looked at me like I was already gone.
And maybe I was.
My knees gave out. My heartbeat slowed again.The edges of the world dulled, colors fading like watercolor left out in the rain.
The sounds warped, muffled… even my own breathing sounded like it was coming from somewhere else.
'Guess this is it, huh…'
I thought of Ken, that idiot probably halfway across the city by now.I thought of the bar, the chaos, the wasted bottles, and how all of this started because I just wanted a drink.
I laughed.It came out as a weak, broken wheeze.
I tilted my head up. The ceiling spun lazily above me.
'Damn it… I wanted to retire next year.'
Another breath. Slower. Shallower.
My hand twitched toward the syringe still stuck in my chest, but I couldn't move anymore.Not even my fingers.
Poison was an old friend by now, cruel, patient, and inevitable.
As the last flickers of light began to fade, I had one final, stupid thought.
"If there's an afterlife…" I muttered to no one, "…I hope it's less annoying than this one."
Then, silence.And for the first time in years, I stopped fighting.
Until…
"Tensei… even if you don't remember anything else I teach you, remember this. Even if you're on the brink of death, call upon the last of your strength and take your attackers with you. That is the most important rule."
Heh. Life flashing before my eyes, and the first thing I see is my sensei's dumb face preaching his dumb rule.
…
After that… I don't remember much. Just the smell of blood, and a single, echoing command in my head.
'KILL.'