Chester's breath devolved into a ragged gasp as his head struck the floor.
Casper did not give him any time to recover.
His hand clamped around his throat but to his dismay, Chester didn't claw nor fight instead he let out a tired sigh before tucking his knee in. Then, with a strong push flung Casper in the air like a ragdoll.
Another Hunter? Casper's thoughts sharpened.
He adjusted his footing the moment he landed, using his hands as a spring he kicked himself off the ground and landed near the door.
Chester straightened himself, casually dusting off his collar. His expression was no longer lazy, growing colder in its stead.
Ray raised his hands to fight, no longer trembling.
"So that's why my spirituality warned me," he murmured, "You're not an average crook."
Chester smiled faintly. "Took you long enough."
The floor cracked beneath him as he vanished forward.
Casper shifted sideways a fraction before Chester's fist tore through the space where his head had been. The shockwave shattered the drawer behind him.
Ray moved simultaneously, far faster than before, aiming low. He swept his feet forward causing Casper to jump, but suddenly he changed his momentum and lunged towards him.
Goddamn Hunters, Casper thought annoyed as he was smashed against the wall that crumbled under the weight of Ray's blow.
Plaster and splinters rained down as the wall gave way.
Casper's body disappeared into the dust cloud.
Ray did not stop.
He drove forward through the collapsing debris, stretching his fingers to grab whatever that remained.
But his hand met nothing but air.
Casper suddenly stepped out of the settling dust, blood trailed down his lips, and his eyes looked tired. He grabbed Ray's shoulder, stifling a scream and threw him.
Ray's momentum reversed violently and he was hurled across the living room, skidding over shattered wood before crashing into the circular table. The porcelain vase shattered on impact and the flower spilled onto the floor.
Casper let out a groan as he softly held his hand, Three hunters in one day? I knew my week was going a little too well.
Casper flexed his fingers once, confirming that his hand wasn't hurt badly he quickly turned his attention to Ray.
But Casper didn't look at him for too long. His spirituality flared up once again, causing him to pivot immediately but to no avail.
Chester didn't give him any room to breathe.
His leg slammed into his side driving him back.
Chester didn't pause.
He grabbed Casper by the collar and drove his knee upward into his abdomen. The impact folded Casper slightly, breath escaping in a sharp exhale.
"Did you forget about me?" He asked with a mischievous grin.
Blood sprayed across the fractured floor as Chester drove his knee into Casper's chest once again.
The force lifted him slightly before sending him crashing backward.
His heel caught on the edge of the sofa and fell hard.
Face-first.
The impact knocked what little air remained from his lungs. Dust filled his mouth as his chest struck the ground with a dull, heavy thud.
Dust filled his mouth as his chest struck the ground with a dull, heavy thud.
Am I going to die? Casper thought for a moment, his vision blurred slightly as his head went slack, Like this?
His body trembled as a terrifying thought passed through his mind, What did I achieve in this new life? Heh, I'm still a failure.
Casper could come up with many excuses.
He kept his gun in a safe while he was sleeping, in fear of it accidentally firing instead of carrying it with him.
There were two men attacking him, both of whom were Beyonders.
His hand was fractured.
But in the end, none of that mattered because he was going to die.
Crying for fairness in an unjust world is meaningless.
Casper's fingers twitched against the splintered floor. His lungs burned with every shallow breath. Blood pooled beneath him. His fractured hand refused to close properly.
Yet, for some reason he could make out two small shadows peeking out of the room.
Adem's fingers clutched the edge of the doorway. Sera stood half behind him, her eyes were wide and tiny droplets of water streaked down her cheek.
They were trying not to make a sound but their frightened faces didn't reassure him.
Damned idiots, why are they peeking out of their room? This is natural selection at its finest, do they have any survival instinct? If I was them I'd have already made my escape out the window!
Casper angrily cursed in his mind.
He carefully shifted his hand across the floor.
Three inches away a jagged porcelain shard laid scattered across the floor. He dragged his fingers forward — all his hopes were pinned on one insignificant shard.
One inch.
Two.
The shard scraped faintly against the wood as his fingertips brushed it—
Suddenly, a boot came down hard, pinning his wrist to the ground.
Chester looked down at him, unimpressed.
"Pathetic," he muttered. "All that reputation, and this is it? We've heard so much about the great Casper Walsh — single handedly started an information empire that spanned the entirety of Backlund, from a nobody to a rising star in the underworld.
"A person of interest to MI6 that is surveilled constantly, a person that took down a sequence 9 Hunter as an unknown sequence 9 that granted no physical enhancement. And yet, look at you… squirming around."
Casper suppressed a laugh, his face was devoid of emotion but had a hint of unmistakable pride to it. 'While that was the original Casper, I'll still shamelessly take the credit.'
Ray's boots crunched over broken porcelain as he joined him. "End it. We've wasted enough time."
Casper could no longer put on a confident farce, this was it. This was the end… the tale of Casper Walsh ended now.
He saw them again.
Adem frozen in the doorway.
Sera shaking behind him.
Watching him, not running but watching.
Something inside his chest tightened — not fear but shame.
He had already died once. Drifted through a meaningless life. Woke in another. Drifted again.
And now?
Was he going to die face-down while they learned the meaning of helplessness?
Pathetic.
His trembling stopped and his breathing slowed.
Something arose within Casper's heart, a sudden warmness encapsulated his body.
It wasn't courage — no.
It was male ego.