In a bustling urban area
The businesspeople are busy rushing to keep up with time, while the young people leisurely take their time, savoring every moment to enjoy life.
A model city, a standard that every city should aspire to.
BOOM!!!
And some asshole decides this is the perfect moment to ruin everyone's day.
The explosion originated from a small shop.
"GAHAHAHA!!"
A guy with hair that looks kinda like a stea- I mean, it vaguely resembles Josuke but uglier.
He holding a gun pointed at an innocent girl.
The innocent girl had just witnessed her colleagues being killed by the explosion, and the perpetrator is laughing about it.
"THAT'S RIGHT! THIS IS THE MUSIC I LOVE! I HAVE TO PLAY IT EVERYWHERE SO THE WORLD CAN HEAR IT TOO!"
A classic irrelevant villain line, obviously.
And in the blink of an eye, the police arrived.
"HANDS UP AND RELEASE THE HOSTAGE!!"
"TRY ME BIATCH!"
"Oh okay, EVERYONE!!"
"Oh wait, wrong script, you guys were supposed to-"
A barrage of police officers arrived, armed with tasers, and shot the terrorist directly.
Immediately, the guy collapsed, his body convulsing nonstop.
A young police officer ran over, hugged the innocent girl, checked her for injuries, then let out a sigh of relief.
"Are you okay?" he asked again just to be sure.
"I-I'm fine... But my colleagues..."
He looked over and saw the bodies that too gruesome to describe and narrowed his eyes.
"...I'm very sorry, but there's nothing we can do."
Right after, another officer came over and patted him on the shoulder.
"Good job, John Strange/Fake!"
"My name is Robert."
"Ok, Mr. Seigi no Mikata."
"What the heck is that name?"
He glanced at the corpses and shook his head.
"I'd be surprised if even one of them survived. After all, the guy we just arrested is an extremely dangerous criminal."
"How dangerous?" Robert comforted the girl and handed her off to someone else before turning to ask.
"This guy seems to be a remnant of that infamous terrorist group. Specifically, the one behind 9/11."
Dude, what?
"Also, he's mixed-race — American, Austrian, and Israeli. He went to art school but got flunked."
"Okay okay stop, I don't want to hear any more."
Robert looked at the terrorist. A surge of anger rose in him, but he suppressed it.
"Phew..."
"Good thing he isn't Black, otherwise we wouldn't have used a taser—"
"DUDE, STOP."
He sighed and walked away.
"Where are you going?"
"To smoke a bit."
"Make it quick! We're about to move out."
"Ok."
Robert went into an alley, took out a pack of cigarettes.
Right as he lit one, he felt someone staring at him.
"Hm?"
The person stood in the middle of the street while others walked past. Tanned skin, black tattoos covering his body, a cloth wrapped around his forehead and... pants? Not even sure if he's wearing any.
For some reason, the longer Robert looked, the more uneasy he felt.
...Until suddenly a silver-haired guy wearing glasses appeared and delivered a dropkick to the strange man, then carried him away.
"...Guess I was just being paranoid. Too much stress these days."
He sighed again, finished the cigarette, was about to flick it away then stopped, looked around, found a trash can, and properly threw it in.
"Young man..."
An old woman's voice startled him.
"Oh, hello ma'am, what's wrong?"
"That terrorist... he just killed my child..."
Wow, who starts a conversation like that?!
"You have to... You have to put him in prison... I just lost my son, and he still has two little kids!" The old woman cried heartbreakingly. Robert softened and went over to pat her back.
"I promise you, ma'am, not only will he go to prison, he'll get the death penalty. Mark my words."
"Thank you... Thank you..." The old woman clasped her hands, tears streaming down.
"Robert!"
"Yeah!"
He left, unaware that Angra Mainyu had already marked him.
***
"..."
Robert trembled as he stared at the report his superior had just handed him.
The terrorist named Islam... had been released and declared innocent. No further investigation allowed.
Worse still, they were forbidden from continuing any inquiry about him.
"You must be kidding me." Robert gripped the report so hard it looked like he might tear it apart.
"Calm down, Robux. Tearing it won't change anything."
"You think I can accept this?! He killed people! He didn't even show a shred of remorse!"
"..."
His colleague sighed and walked over.
"Mr. Justice Hero, his father works in the government, name President Slump. There's nothing we can do. We might even become the next victims."
"..."
Injustice. That's what Robert felt at that moment.
"Just accept it, Roblox," the colleague said, then stood up and left Robert standing there.
"...DAMN IT!" Robert slammed the desk, thinking of the victims, thinking of the old woman.
"...There has to be a way!"
He walked out, intending to find his colleague again.
But right as he left the police station, he overheard voices in the alley.
"So? You in?"
Robert tried not to make noise and peeked carefully — then his eyes widened.
In front of his colleague stood a man in a black suit and sunglasses.
He was holding a thick stack of cash, handing it over.
No way...
"I'll take it, heh. Enough to party for a whole week." His colleague happily accepted it without hesitation.
"You better keep your word, or we'll take care of you."
"No worries, I'll take this secret to my grave."
That bastard accepted a bribe without any guilt.
After the suited man got in his car and left, the colleague turned and looked straight at Robert.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
"!!"
"Good. So now we both share the secret. Otherwise we'll both get taken out." He walked up, face to face with Robert.
"...You bastard! I never thought you'd be this kind of person!"
"Rolex..."
He shoved a stack of money into Robert's hand, gripping it tightly.
"I'm doing this for both of us. We keep doing our jobs like normal cops. Just don't get involved in politics and no one gets hurt."
"THAT BASTARD KILLED INNOCENT PEOPLE!!"
"So what are you gonna do about it?"
Robert was speechless. A thousand words wanted to come out, but none did.
"Robert Judgeson, we have no power, no voice. Better to stay quiet than rise up and die horribly. The choice is yours."
He smirked and walked away. Robert stood there, staring at the money in his hand.
"..."
His faith was shaking violently. Should he hold on to his ideals... or listen to his colleague?
"..."
Robert sat down, clutching the money, head buried in his arms.
'...I'll send this money to the victims' families.'
He thought silently, hoping it would ease his conscience even a little.
***
"I WON'T ACCEPT THIS FILTHY MONEY!!"
The bills were thrown straight into his face, knocking his police cap off.
"I TOLD YOU TO BRING HIM TO JUSTICE, NOT TO TAKE BRIBES!!"
The old woman hit him with her bag, her face full of rage and injustice, tears pouring down.
"I TRUSTED YOU! I TRUSTED YOU!!"
"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU'RE HIS ACCOMPLICE! YOU'RE A MURDERER! A MURDERER!!!"
The bag struck his head; blood flowed from his forehead.
"MURDERER! KILLER!"
KILLER
MURDERER
His eyes froze. The light in them slowly faded.
...Me? A murderer?
He lay on his bed, a bandage on his forehead to stop the bleeding.
The room was dark. He stared blankly at the ceiling.
The stack of money still sat on the table — now stained and dirty.
Everything had spun like a roller coaster; he wasn't prepared at all.
Indeed, deciding to give the money to the families was the stupidest choice, it was no different from insulting them.
As if a life could be bought with money.
Ridiculous. Ironic. Pathetic.
He should just die.
What is justice when he's betraying it himself?
I'm... a hypocrite.
His eyes slowly closed. Self-blame and everything he'd been through left him mentally exhausted.
If things continue like this,
one day he would become the very thing he hated most.
...unless someone intervened in his life, right at this moment.
Knock knock knock
He opened his eyes, got up like a zombie, and walked to the door.
He left the room and approached the front door, where the knocking continued nonstop.
'Who the hell knocks at this hour? Probably someone who wants me dead — makes sense after what I've done.' He mocked himself, thinking that was the most logical explanation.
But before he could touch the doorknob, a black blade pierced straight through the door.
"?!"
Someone really wants to kill him right now?!
Immediately after, the door was kicked in, slamming into him.
"Agh! What the—?!"
He pushed the door off and looked at his attacker.
Something hideous, neither human nor monster. That thing holding a blade and staring at him.
Cold sweat ran down his back. He didn't believe in ghosts or demons, so this was utterly shocking.
Primal fear overwhelmed him. He struggled to stand and ran back into the room.
In there were his belongings, specifically, his handgun.
"■■■■■!!" (Ah yes, Berserker language)
A beast-like roar came from it, forcing him to cover his ears.
"What the hell is that?!"
Instantly, the thing appeared right in front of him. He could only stare in shock as it swung its weapon toward him.
BAM!
Luckily the swing didn't cut him in half, it was holding the blade backward. Unluckily, it still broke several of his ribs.
"Agh...hah...hahh..." He gasped, blood dripping from his mouth.
Perhaps this was karma.
Perhaps he deserved it.
He had no regrets. His death would be the best apology to the old woman and the victims' families.
...
'My son, I'm leaving everything to you.'
Light returned to his eyes. His body crawled toward the room.
"Not... not yet... There's still one thing I haven't finished..."
He kept crawling while the monster approached from behind.
"Hahhh...hahh..."
His hand reached for the gun as the monster prepared to strike again.
His blood dripped onto the floor.
"HUOOOHHHH!!!!!" He roared, grabbed the gun, eyes blazing with fire.
Right beneath him, a magic circle lit up — activated by his blood.
Immediately after, a Command Seal appeared on the back of his hand.
BOOM!!!!
Before the monster could swing, a tremendous force blasted it away. Then a massive hand seized its neck, making it thrash wildly.
Smoke filled the air; Robert couldn't see clearly, but he felt a strange connection with someone.
The monster struggled desperately, until the figure tightened its grip slightly, snapping its neck instantly.
"!"
Robert couldn't believe his eyes. The thing that had just sent him flying was killed so easily?!
What the hell is going on?!
The figure tossed the corpse aside; it dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind purple-black ash.
The figure turned toward him. Startled, Robert instinctively aimed his gun at it in panic.
"Servant, Saber."
The smoke cleared, revealing the figure.
Very tall, that was Robert's first thought.
Pale golden long hair, shining and beautiful. Massive, imposing armor. Heterochromatic eyes. A glowing blue chain dangled from one hand.
Looking closer... it was a woman. A very tall woman.
"Tam Lin Gawain... I shall fight under the banner of my Master."
"So... are you my Master?"
Master of Saber, Robert Judgeson, had successfully summon.