CHAPTER 164: ONLY ONCE
Inside the private wing of the hospital, Marco lay side-on in his bed, his body
a map of fresh gauze. He was slipping in and out of a feverish, chaotic dream.
Vivid images flickered behind his eyelids. Falling shelving and heavy sandbags.
A massive, driving boot hitting his face. Speck's manic, blood-stained grin. The
faces of the warriors on the Espoir. The rising sun he'd seen when he fell from
the building with Ren. The screams of the men he'd killed. The demonic presence
of Rodem. And the twisted, cold voice of Q-Taro.
In the darkness of his mind, Marco found himself standing back in the ruins of
the Kujo Building. Q-Taro was there, looming over him like a puppet master.
"Holding onto 'Killing Intent' is too difficult for you, isn't it, Marco?"
The phantom Q-Taro spoke with a low, disappointing register. "Just let it end.
Fade away with me."
"You were born to be a sword and a shield for others. That is your only
existence. You have no self."
"That's why you can't beat a man like Speck. He doesn't have a purpose. He just
attacks. He just kills. You can't overcome pure instinct with a heart as soft as
yours."
"Be purer, Marco. Become the killer I designed. That is the only way you become
strong."
The "Malice" of Q-Taro's memory stood in front of a heavy iron cage door,
beckoning Marco forward. "Open the door. Return to the world of slaughter.
Become the Apex. Fight and win."
Marco drifted forward, his hand reaching for the rusted handle. But then, a
thought stopped him.
"...No."
The phantom Q-Taro froze. "What?"
Marco's eyes focused. His voice, though small, was filled with a new, grounding
weight. "No. Fighting to kill... that's the lie. Fighting and killing are two
different things."
"Ren-nii taught me. Having killing intent doesn't make you strong. And not
wanting to kill doesn't make you weak."
"The 'Might' you talk about isn't real. You're just a bully."
"You're a liar!"
SHING!
Marco lunged, throwing a heavy phantom-punch at the image of his father. It
didn't shatter the memory, but the shockwave caused the darkness to ripple and
fade.
"Hoo... huff...!"
Marco took a deep mental breath, looking at the cage door. "I'll see you again,
I know. But I'm not scared anymore. Come at me whenever you want."
"I have friends to protect."
In the Hospital Ward.
Marco's eyes snapped open. The dream vanished, replaced by the white-hot sting
of the real world. Every nerve ending in his body was screaming.
"Ugh... GAH!?"
He tried to sit up, but it felt like he had a hundred broken bones. His vision
slowly stabilized.
In the next bed over, Cosmo Imai was asleep, his chest rising and falling in a
shallow, pained rhythm. Nearby, several figures were gathered.
Ren Shiroki and Kureishi had been there since 2:00 AM. An Sakurai was currently
reviewing their charts with the hospital's head trauma specialist. She was
acting as their primary advocate, but she also had a hungry look in her eye. The
chance to study Marco's biological recovery from such trauma was a professional
goldmine for her.
Just before dawn, Takeshi Wakatsuki had arrived as well, having been alerted by
the Furumi security network. He stood by Cosmo's bed, his expression somber.
"Ah. He's awake."
An turned to the group, offering a reassuring nod. "He'll live. He was on the
edge for an hour, but his biological engine is too powerful. As long as he stays
conscious, his body will handle the repair."
She tapped the two charts. "But honestly? It's a massacre."
She looked at Cosmo's file. "Ruptured liver and spleen, abdominal hemorrhaging,
torn core muscles, shattered nose, significant facial avulsion from the floor
friction, and a micro-bleed in the frontal lobe."
Then she looked at Marco's. "Crushed diaphragm, vascular tears in the mesentery,
depressed fracture of the zygomatic arch, dislocated mandible, and a perforated
eardrum."
An let out a long sigh. "Both of them have dozens of internal hematomas and bone
cracks. It's a miracle they're breathing."
"Speck was playing for keeps. If Marco hadn't been an outlier—and if he hadn't
buried Cosmo under his own body at the end—neither of them would have reached
the ER."
An went back to her data, leaving Ren and Kureishi to whisper in the corner.
Wakatsuki sat by Cosmo's bed, watching the youth stir.
"I... I lost... didn't I?"
Cosmo's eyelids flickered. His voice was a thin, dry wheeze. His face was hot
with shame, especially where the skin had been scraped away by the wood.
He looked at Wakatsuki, a weak smile on his lips. "Will it... will it leave a
scar? I sort of like my face."
"Haha. You'll be fine, kid," Wakatsuki said, his voice soft with relief. "Just
focus on the recovery. You can get your revenge later."
Cosmo went silent. He looked over at Ren and Kureishi.
"Wakatsuki-san... I know my Master. And I know Ren-senpai."
"They aren't going to wait for me to get my revenge."
Wakatsuki paused. As a Rokushin alumnus, he understood the culture of the elite
schools. If a student was attacked, the Dojo would retaliate with the force of a
thousand black belts.
But the Soul Combat Hub and the Kureishi Dojo weren't "Official" schools. They
were groups led by individuals.
Ren Shiroki and Mitsuyo Kureishi weren't the type to sit in a waiting room and
hold a student's hand. They were "Monsters."
Ren walked over to Cosmo's bed, having finished checking on Marco. He gave the
boy a small, sharp grin. "He's right, Takeshi-kun. Kureishi-senpai and I are of
the same mind."
Cosmo looked at the ceiling, letting out a weary sigh. "I told you. They aren't
'Wise Martial Arts Masters' from a book."
"Letting the disciple grow and overcome the rival on his own? That 'Fantasy' is
for other people. These two? They can't stop themselves."
Caught in the act, Ren and Kureishi shared a guilty look, then burst out
laughing.
"Quite," Kureishi said, hands on his hips. "I'm not a kind elder. I'm not going
to give you a lecture or wait for you to heal. I just want to go break that old
man's ribs for messing with my property."
Ren pulled an orange from a nearby fruit basket and began to peel it.
"In this world, Cosmo-kun, there is only 'The Now.'"
"If you spend years training to beat a 'Rival,' you often find that someone else
beat you to it. The rival is already dead or broken before you get your shot."
"If you want the win, take it. Don't wait for a second chance, because in a
street brawl... there is no 'Next Time.'"
"Combat is combat. There is no distinction between the first time and the last."
"Understood, Senpai," Cosmo said, his gaze becoming clear and firm. "I'll
remember that."
Cosmo closed his eyes, sliding into a deep, restorative sleep.
The group filtered out of the room, Ren gently closing the door behind them.
CLICK.
The instant the latch caught, a muffled roar erupted from inside the ward.
"SPECK! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU! AAAAAAGGGGHHHH!"
Ren and Kureishi shared a smile. Marco and Cosmo were in perfect sync. They were
both angry. They both wanted more "Might."
Ren pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen.
"Ren-kun?" Kureishi asked. "What are you doing?"
"Calling some friends," Ren replied, his eyes glowing. "I need help finding a
target. And then... I'm going to have a talk with a certain bald man."
Kureishi's smile turned into a jagged, manic grin.
"Count me in. I've been looking for a reason to see what a death-row inmate's
skeleton feels like under my thumbs."
☆☆☆
-> 30 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you