What Trekker said left everyone completely confused.
The bully leader frowned and snapped,
"Pro… prodigy? King? I don't get it. And Schizor—isn't that the same last name that nerd in our school has? What's happening?"
Trekker opened his mouth to explain,
but before a single word could escape, there was a sharp fwip!—
Jason moved.
Two of Trekker's men dropped instantly,
their bodies hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
Jason's footwork scraped across the concrete with a soft, rapid shhhk-shhhk,
so fast it sounded almost inhuman.
Trekker froze mid-thought.
Schiznors… generational boxers.
Each generation stronger than the last. But this… he's different from the kid I once saw in the ring.
As Trekker processed this,
a wet splatter hit his cheek.
A drop of blood.
He looked up—
two more men collapsed with a dull bam–bam,
their bodies twitching like their souls had been punched out of them.
"Back! Keep distance!" Trekker barked.
His men scrambled, boots scraping the rooftop clack-clack,
backing away to avoid Jason's range.
They began grabbing whatever they could—
metal rods hitting the floor with clang,
stones skittering with tik-tik-tik,
one guy even cocking a broken pipe like a weapon.
Objects flew toward Jason—
stones cracking, rods whistling,
one rock slammed his head with a harsh thunk,
a metal rod smashed against his back with a clang that echoed in the night.
Jason staggered but didn't fall.
His breath trembled—
"haa… haa…"
but he stayed standing.
Trekker gritted his teeth.
Stubborn monsters… these Schiznors refuse to lose no matter what condition they're in.
He slowly reached behind his waistband.
A faint metal click gave away what he was pulling out.
A gun.
Jason's eyes twitched.
He had been expecting this.
Without hesitation, he burst forward—
a sharp dash on gravel,
snatching a rock mid-run with a scrrrrk,
and hurling it.
It cracked against Trekker's arm with a sharp pak!,
making him jerk the gun aside for a second.
Jason reached him—
THUD! A punch to the ribs.
CRACK! Another to the chin.
Trekker fell back with a grunt, his gun slipping from his fingers and sliding across the floor with a metallic skrrrnnk.
But before Jason could grab it—
The bully leader scooped it up, breathing hard.
He pointed it at Jason, hands shaking so much the gun rattled with a nervous clink-clink.
"S–stay back! I'll shoot!"
Jason halted.
He knew the brat was terrified enough to pull the trigger out of fear alone.
Trekker pushed himself up with a groan.
"Agh… you bastard…"
He snatched the gun from the bully leader and steadied his aim.
"You think I'm giving you a simple death?"
Jason stared coldly.
He was trying to find an opening—
But Trekker didn't wait.
BANG!
A bullet tore through Jason's left leg.
The impact hit with a sickening thud,
and Jason collapsed to one knee, breath punching out of him.
"Ahaha… you love footwork, right?" Trekker mocked.
"Try dancing now."
Jason tried to get up—
his hand gripping the ground, gravel crunching under his fingers with grrkkk—
but the pain was unbearable.
Trekker tilted his head,
the gun clicking as he cocked it again.
"And where next? Your right leg? Your arm? Maybe I should make sure you can't throw a punch ever again."
Jason's vision blurred.
His heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears—
thump… thump… thump…
All he thought about was Jake.
What will happen to him if I die?
Why am I like this? Why do I always fail when it matters?
I can't die… not now… not like this…
He forced his body up, trembling.
Trekker blinked in disbelief.
"Oh? Still trying to stand? Let me end that stubbornness."
He aimed at Jason's head.
The bully leader and his gang cheered—
their voices mixing with the rooftop wind,
the click of the gun's trigger slowly pressing down.
Jason closed his eyes.
BANG—
The gun fired.
Jason's heart stopped.
"W–what…? It didn't hit me…?"
Before anyone could understand what happened,
shadows shifted,
and their eyes followed the echo of the shot.
A heavy landing shook the rooftop—
BOOM.
Someone had landed there.
A figure in ocean-blue and pitch-black suit,
colors swirling like water and shadow,
a fist symbol glowing faintly on the back like a hole of darkness.
Mask fully covering his face.
Height towering over 6 feet.
Muscles like a wild animal forged in steel.
Wind brushing past him with a whoosh,
the rooftop dust swirling at his feet.
Trekker's eyes widened with pure terror.
It wasn't just him—
everyone froze.
Even Jason felt something…
a presence so heavy it swallowed the entire world.
Silence.
Cold.
Fear.
Then, the weak student they had dragged there,
breathing ragged with tears on his face,
suddenly smiled with desperate hope.
"K–KNUCKLE!!!"
His voice echoed across the rooftop.
The nightmare had met the monster who hunts monsters.