"K-K-Kill... them?" Raden stammered, his lips trembling.
"Yes... kill them."
Raden swallowed hard. For several minutes, he sat in silence, his mind a chaotic mess of static and fear.
"You don't need to be afraid, Toki... You won't be listed as a criminal. Your kill was legal. We aren't the ones in the wrong, they are. If you're still doubting it, just believe that those debtors were the real criminals. You have to be hard in this hard world, Toki. It's painful, sure, but that is the reality," Razor continued, his voice void of hesitation.
Mora sat down beside Raden. She placed her left hand on his right shoulder, grounding him. She studied his face for a moment, then offered a soft smile.
"It's okay. No need to force yourself. Let's just start this slowly, okay?"
Mora clenched her right hand and raised it, a silent gesture of encouragement. Raden looked at her, managing a faint smile, and nodded.
Taking her phone back from Raden's hand, Mora continued her conversation with Razor as she walked out of the room, leaving Raden to the silence.
He stared up at the ceiling, flexing his palms, watching the tendons move.
"Why... is my life path like this?" he muttered, staring at his hands.
Well... that is just how life works. You cannot guess it, even if you possess the intelligence to predict many things, Oni spoke, his voice resonating directly within Raden's mind.
"Yeah, you're right. And it's incredibly confusing."
That is only human, Raden. Remember that confusion is the fruit of learning for your future, Oni replied.
Raden offered a resigned smile, not bothering to argue. He tried to close his eyes, seeking rest.
You aren't busy right now, are you? I want to explain something to you, Oni interjected.
"Yeah, sure. Explain away until I fall asleep."
Raden keeping his eyes closed, hugged the bolster pillow beside him.
Suddenly, the automatic door to his room slid open. Mora stepped back inside, two drones hovering above her head. Raden snapped awake, turning his body toward the sound.
"Hi, I forgot to leave you something. Here, I'm leaving one of my drones with you—his name is Timmy. You know... in case you want to grab something, you can just order him around. Oh, and he can order food for you too. So don't be shy, use him! Just think of him as your personal pet. Or, I don't know, a maid? Whatever, just boss him around as you please. I'm heading out now, okay?" Mora spoke quickly, barely pausing for breath.
"Okay, Mora. Thanks for the gift," Raden replied weakly, his eyes drifting shut again.
"Good. Before I go, anything you want to ask?"
Raden shook his head.
"Alright then."
Mora left the room, leaving Timmy behind. The small drone hovered, looking around the room in confusion before settling into a hover right next to Raden's right hand. Raden lifted the 22 cm robot with both hands and hugged it against his stomach.
Timmy lifted his body slightly, then lowered it again, mimicking an obedient dog. Raden stroked the drone's head.
"Come on, continue that explanation of yours. I'm curious."
Very well, I will continue. But first, are you aware there is a tattoo on your neck? Oni asked.
Raden rubbed his neck with his right palm, feeling a slight unevenness on the skin. He opened his eyes and looked at Timmy's back, which was made of black glass. The reflection allowed him to see the tattoo on his neck clearly.
"I see. So there is a tattoo."
Yes. That is the mark of our contract sanctioned by the Astral Judge—the Soul Sync Contract. Through that contract, you can access power if I, you, and the half-demon within my soul get angry simultaneously, Oni explained.
"Yeah, I remember that. The transformation is called Astral Rage, right? But... why do we have to be angry to access it?"
Because anger is the rawest emotion of a human being. Through anger, a human releases their true self honestly. And the demon within my soul... he loves wrath. With that anger, you can access Rage in five distinct levels.
Raden's eyes snapped open wide, disbelief washing over him. He sat up, throwing the blanket aside.
"H-Huh? What do you mean, five levels?"
Rage has five tiers. Every tier consumes 20% of your soul. Every piece of your soul that is lost will have a direct effect on your body immediately after you use Rage. The demon in my soul does not accept free exchanges. And you know what? If you can access the highest level, let's call it Rage 5, you will gain immense strength and speed. You would approach the velocity of lightning striking the earth.
Raden's eyes bulged. His jaw dropped. For a few minutes, he just stared into space, stiff and silent, processing Oni's words.
"So, I could just kill this entire city with this Rage transformation?"
Yes, you could slaughter this entire city. However, note that your power carries high, tangible risks to your body. Although, indeed, given enough time, you will recover. Remember, this is real power, not like the fiction comics you read where the more power you access, the more invincible you become.
Raden flinched.
"Hey, how do you know I read comics like that?"
Hahaha, I am inside your body. I can access all your memories. You saw my memories too, didn't you, in that dream?
"Y-Yeah... so that was you who slashed me? Why did you slash me? I just wanted to know what kind of person you were." He went back to stroking Timmy's head.
You weren't dead. If you had lingered there, you would have been trapped forever. I didn't want to bear the risk of my mouth slipping and revealing too much to you.
"Oh, is that so... well, that's a shame. But whatever."
Raden yawned and stretched his limbs.
"Timmy, can you get the TV remote?"
Timmy looked confused. His head darted back and forth. He lowered his head again and projected a hologram with a UI resembling a remote control right in front of Raden's face. Raden scratched the left side of his neck, though it didn't itch.
"Hehe, I kind of forgot everything here is super advanced."
Raden turned on the TV located perfectly for viewing while lying down. He flipped through channels, skipping past boring broadcasts until he landed on a news report about a murder. Raden locked onto the screen.
Breaking News:
"Former world martial arts, Halim Sukma Wijaya, and his wife were found dead, murdered by an assailant who remains unidentified, right in their residence. The bodies have been evacuated by the SCC (Spectre City Cops) and field volunteers. According to witnesses and the pursuing officers, the suspect is a black-haired male, 173 cm tall, with a tattoo on his neck."
Raden froze. He instinctively touched the tattoo on his neck. When he pulled his hand back and looked at it, he hallucinated his palm covered in thick, red blood. His mind spun backward. The memory of killing his parents replayed in chaotic, rapid flashes. The voices. The screams.
The pressure built until...
Drip.
His nose began to bleed. Timmy quickly hovered around, scanning for a first aid kit. Finding it, the drone rushed back and pressed a tissue against Raden's nose. Timmy shut off the TV. He adjusted Raden's body and head so he wasn't lying flat, propping him up with a pillow behind his head.
Raden's vision, which had gone blurry and dizzy, slowly began to clear. Timmy replaced the blood-soaked tissues several times until the flow stopped.
Raden patted Timmy's head weakly.
"Thanks, Timmy."
Timmy responded by raising a metal thumb.
"Timmy, I have a request. From the location on the news... can you go get the trophies, medals, or any other valuables belonging to my father?" Raden asked, staring at the little robot.
Timmy scratched his head. Then, he zoomed out of the room, heading straight for Mora's lab.
Mora was busy cross-referencing a database provided by Razor on her main computer. Timmy poked her shoulder.
"Yes, what is it, my little robot?"
Timmy explained Raden's request by projecting text for Mora to read. He was asking for permission to leave the base and covertly retrieve the items.
"You may, but be careful. Don't let the police track us," Mora said, smiling at the drone. Timmy flashed an 'OK' gesture with his metal fingers.
Immediately, Timmy sped off, flying at high speed toward Raden's house. Upon arrival, he saw the area swarming with police and onlookers crowding the yellow tape. Two bodies, tightly covered, were being carried out.
Timmy slipped silently into the house. Inside, the walls were lined with family photos. Timmy hovered, momentarily confused about which items to take since Raden hadn't been specific.
Police officers were still drifting in and out of the house, conducting their investigation. Timmy nearly panicked when a cop walked by, but miraculously, he went unnoticed.
Timmy located the storage room. There, he saw several of Raden's father's silat trophies, medals, and certificates, all covered in a layer of dust. Timmy's stomach compartment opened wide. He shoved the trophies and medals inside. He also grabbed a few small-sized photos that would fit in the cargo bay.
After waiting a moment to ensure the coast was clear, Timmy zoomed out of the house and flew back to base at top speed.
---
Back at the base, Timmy unloaded the items from his stomach. He activated a small fan built into his head to blow away the dust clinging to the trophies. Once clean, he carried the items to Raden's room.
Raden was already fast asleep. Timmy carefully placed the items on the large desk near the entrance.
Mission accomplished, Timmy returned to Mora's room. Mora was currently adjusting a suit on Michael. She slid a watch onto his left wrist.
"How long can I stay invisible?" Michael asked, adjusting the fit of his jacket.
"30 minutes. After that, you'll be visible to the naked eye again," Mora answered, still fiddling with the watch clasp.
"Damn, that's short... why is the duration decreasing?"
"I tried to restore it to factory specs, but... well, the chips are becoming rare. What can we do? Now you have to be fast and manage your time efficiently," Mora replied, placing a pair of Oxy Mark I glasses on his face.
Michael sighed.
"Alright. Hand me those sniper shoes," Michael requested, pointing to a sniper rifle hanging on a hidden wall panel. Below it sat a pair of magnetic boots.
Mora struggled to lift the heavy rifle, while Timmy and Kimmy, Mora's other drone pushed the magnetic boots toward Michael. He strapped them on quickly.
"Pray I'm still alive when this is over," Michael said, ruffling Mora's hair.
"Yeah, yeah. Just be careful. Remember, only 30 minutes," Mora said, swatting his hand away from her hair.
Michael smiled at her.
"Aight. Noted."
He ran out the door and took the lift to the rooftop.
Once on the roof, he set up the sniper rifle in a prone position and peered through the scope. Through the lens, he spotted two women wearing masks, pointing weapons at a small shop owner. He adjusted his aim, the crosshairs settling on the head of one of the masked figures.
His finger tightened on the trigger. A wide grin spread across his face.
"Heh, gotcha."