"You're not gonna let that happen?"
Agent 5's voice sliced through the air like a knife, cold and sharp.
He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his grin twisted and cruel.
"What are you gonna do, huh? You even saw it with your own fuckin' eyes—you're hopeless now."
He paused. His gaze slid sideways.
"…Or did you get weak because of that girl?"
Teji's jaw locked. His fists twitched.
Behind him, Tamiki flinched like the words had hit her in the chest. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Her eyes dropped—not out of fear, but confusion. Doubt.
Am I the reason?
Am I… holding him back?
The silence wrapped around them like a noose.
Teji didn't break eye contact with her. Not for a second. His face was unreadable—but his eyes held something. A promise.
He turned back to Agent 5, slow and measured.
Still, he said nothing.
Instead, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his sidearm. Smooth. Controlled. Like it was all part of the plan.
Click—he detached the silencer with a single twist.
The metal cylinder dropped to the floor with a hollow clack that echoed too loudly in the tense room.
Then, without a word—
Bang!
Bang!
Two shots fired. Straight at Agent 5's chest.
But the bastard barely moved.
He tilted his torso slightly to the left, then to the right—dodging both bullets with ridiculous ease. Feet planted. Like it was nothing.
"The fuck you tryin' to do?" he barked. "Of course that shit's not gonna work on me, dipshit."
Teji didn't blink. Didn't flinch.
No anger. No frustration.
Just silence. Cold and focused.
Then, without warning—he moved.
He hurled his gun downward with all his strength.
CRACK!
The weapon struck the floor hard, grip-first.
The impact echoed—CRACK!—as the concrete split beneath it.
The gun's handle sank deep, the frame buried.
Only the trigger and barrel jutted out, angled upward like a trap waiting to spring.
It didn't look like a tactic.
It didn't look like strategy.
It looked like rage.
Unspoken. Focused. Controlled—but boiling underneath.
Agent 5 blinked.
Tamiki's breath caught in her throat.
Teji stood still. Silent.
But the message was clear.
This wasn't going to be a normal fight.
Agent 5's grin twitched.
"Heh. Gave up already?"
Teji didn't speak.
Didn't flinch.
His silence hit harder than a threat.
Then—calm and precise—
His right hand reached across his chest.
From under his jacket, he slid out a bayonet.
The blade gleamed—long, deadly, steady in his grip.
Same moment, his left hand moved behind his back.
Smooth. Silent.
He drew a karambit—curved and sharp, catching light like a fang.
Agent 5's brow lifted. Just slightly.
"You've been hiding that from me all this time?"
His voice was casual, but there was a flicker behind the eyes.
Teji's voice came low. Controlled.
"I never needed it before."
Agent 5 scoffed. Still smiling.
"One or two blades, doesn't matter. You're going to die anyway."
He drew his own weapon—a bayonet in his left hand. Fast. Familiar.
No surprises. Teji had trained with him.
He knew the rhythm.
Knew the grip.
Knew the arrogance in every move.
Teji's eyes flicked to Tamiki—just once.
"No matter what," he said, "stay there."
Tamiki nodded.
Maybe out of fear.
Maybe something else.
But she listened.
The room thickened.
The air, tight.
Like the walls were holding their breath.
Their eyes locked.
No more words.
They moved.
Clash!
Steel met steel in a blur.
Sparks burst.
The sound ripped through the air—raw, loud, violent.
Teji blocked the first slash with his bayonet, tilting it just enough to send the blade screeching past his shoulder.
The metal scream was close—too close.
He lunged forward.
Karambit in his left hand, swinging up in a tight arc—aimed straight for Agent 5's ribs.
Almost.
But Agent 5 twisted at the last second.
The blade tore fabric, not flesh.
No pause. No breath.
Agent 5 countered, his bayonet punching downward in a savage stab.
Teji dropped his shoulder, twisting his core, curved blade rising—CLANG!—he parried.
The weapons grated like jagged teeth.
The café echoed with metal and grit.
Everything around them was still—only the fight moved.
They clashed again.
Closer this time.
Tighter. Meaner.
It wasn't about strength anymore.
It was speed.
Instinct.
Precision.
Every strike was clean. Every block fast.
There was no wasted movement.
Only kill-or-be-killed rhythm.
Teji ducked under a wide swing—stepped in.
His shoulder crashed into Agent 5's ribs.
Thud.
Agent 5 staggered—just a step—
—but snapped back fast, spinning his blade into a reverse grip and slashing low across Teji's side.
Too fast.
Shhk!
Teji flinched. Blood sprayed from a fresh cut.
He hissed—but didn't back down.
Instead, he surged forward again.
Bayonet high. A feint.
Karambit low. A brutal undercut meant to gut.
Agent 5 read it.
Caught Teji's wrist mid-swing, yanked it wide—
Then drove his knee straight into Teji's gut.
WHUMP.
Teji doubled over, air ripped from his lungs.
But he didn't fall.
He snapped his head up—CRACK!—slamming his forehead into Agent 5's chin.
Agent 5 stumbled. Blood at his lips.
Teji, breathing heavy, didn't wait.
But neither did Agent 5.
Blood now streaked both of them.
Sweat mixed with dust.
Every breath was a fight.
Every blink, a risk.
Still—
They didn't stop.
Agent 5 swept low—
A sudden spin-kick aimed to sweep Teji's legs.
Teji jumped.
Boots just clearing the strike.
Mid-air, he slashed down across Agent 5's chest.
Shhk!
But the blade met forearm.
Agent 5 blocked it just in time.
The cut was shallow.
Enough to draw blood.
Enough to piss him off.
They circled—
One breath.
Two.
Then they launched again.
No hesitation.
Like two beasts who'd fought too many times to bluff.
Every step calculated.
Every swing familiar.
The dance of death—no rhythm, just instinct.
Agent 5 sneered mid-swing.
"You couldn't even beat that washed-up retiree—Agent 7. And they put you above me in the top 5?"
He ducked a blade, twisted past a second, and barked a laugh.
"I can't believe this shit."
Teji spun low, bayonet sweeping for the gut—missed by an inch.
But he rose fast.
Blades up.
Breathing sharp.
"You talk too much, you know?"
He lunged. Slice.
The karambit ripped through Agent 5's sleeve.
"Maybe that's why."
A jab—clean, quiet.
Agent 5's grin faltered.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
This wasn't about ranking anymore.
This was pride.
Resentment.
Hate.
His smirk warped into something colder.
With a sudden burst of force, Agent 5 batted Teji's bayonet aside—
His arm moved like a piston.
Fast. Precise. Brutal.
His hand snapped out—grabbed the blade from the air mid-spin.
One motion. Smooth.
Before Teji could even react—
Shhk!
The bayonet sank deep.
Upper chest.
Just below the collarbone.
Time slowed.
The café disappeared.
The sound died.
Only the burn remained.
Teji's legs staggered back.
His chest heaved, breath stolen.
Blood spilled fast—too fast.
Agent 5 stepped in.
Slow.
Cruel.
His hand still on the hilt, he pressed down—
Drove the blade deeper.
Inch by inch.
"Talk too much," he whispered, voice low and cutting,
"But still better than you… number four."
Teji's breath rasped through clenched teeth.
Sharp. Uneven.
His chest burned—blood leaking fast, soaking his ribs.
It had been a long time since he felt pain like this.
Not the kind you train through.
Real pain.
The kind that reminds you you're still alive.
Still, he managed a whisper.
Low. Dry.
"You know guns don't work on us, right?"
Agent 5 scoffed, loud and smug.
"Of course I know, dipshit."
But Teji smiled.
Just a small twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Almost a smirk.
"Only if you can dodge it."
Click.
BANG.
The shot cracked from below.
From the floor.
From the gun buried in the concrete—its barrel still pointed up.
Teji had stepped on it.
Not by accident.
The pressure from his boot crushed the guard—pinned the trigger down.
This wasn't chaos.
This was a plan.
His plan.
Agent 5 didn't see it coming.
CRACK!
The bullet ripped through his right elbow—the same arm forcing the bayonet into Teji's chest.
A sharp, wet scream tore out of him.
His arm jerked back, reflex taking over.
Fingers released the hilt.
The blade slipped free.
Teji didn't wait.
With his right hand, he grabbed the mangled arm—gripped it tight—
Then twisted, pulling Agent 5 forward into his rising left leg.
CRACK!
The side-kick landed flush against the jaw.
Agent 5's head snapped sideways.
Neck twisted hard.
A spasm.
Then stillness.
He didn't fall.
Not yet.
He just stood there.
Swaying.
Unconscious for half a breath.
But that was all Teji needed.
He stepped in.
Karambit gleaming in bloodlight.
And then—
Slice.
Rip.
Slash.
His blade moved fast.
Too fast.
Up. Down. Across.
A blur of arcs made for cutting, not stabbing.
A curved edge built for damage.
Flesh gave way.
Tendon snapped.
Blood sprayed.
There was no hesitation.
No wasted motion.
Only clean, brutal efficiency.
This was no longer a duel.
This was execution.
The cuts were everywhere.
Deep. Clean. Ruthless.
Agent 5's body was torn open in so many places, the blood didn't even rush out at first.
It just welled up—slow and thick—like his body hadn't realized it was done yet.
He dropped to both knees.
Staggering. Shaking.
Broken.
Teji was still standing.
Even with the bayonet still stabbed into his chest—buried beneath his collarbone like a metal reminder of what it took to survive.
He didn't flinch.
He raised his fist—
And drove it straight into Agent 5's face.
BANG!
The punch sent him flying.
His body crashed through a café table—splinters and chairs exploding outward, wood snapping under the weight.
Then—silence.
No screams.
No groans.
Just the hum of blood in the air.
Teji stood over the chaos.
Then his hand opened.
The karambit slipped from his fingers—
Clatter.
It hit the floor beside his feet.
His knees finally buckled.
He dropped to one knee.
One hand pressing hard over the wound in his chest, blood dripping between his fingers, painting his ribs.
He was breathing heavy.
Winded.
But alive.
Across the room, Tamiki didn't move.
Her eyes were wide, frozen behind the shattered counter.
Blood stained the floor in streaks—splashed up the walls, soaked into the wood.
It was everywhere.
She couldn't look away.
Her foot shifted.
Just a small step forward.
She peeked out from behind the counter, her breath catching in her throat.
Teji was walking.
Slow.
Staggered.
Each step like it might be his last.
But his presence still hit like a blade drawn from its sheath—sharp, deliberate, dangerous.
His chest heaved with each breath.
His hand hovered over the gun—still half-buried in the concrete.
He reached down.
Gripped the weapon.
Pulled it free in one clean motion.
And aimed it.
Straight at Agent 5's head.
The man lay crumpled, twitching on the floor.
He couldn't move.
Couldn't lift his arms.
Blood leaked from his shattered elbow, pooling beneath him.
His eyes blinked—barely focused.
His mouth tried to speak—but failed.
Teji's voice broke the silence.
Low. Cold. Flat.
"I don't want to kill you," he said.
"But if I don't…"
He took a breath.
His finger tensed on the trigger.
"You'll be a pain in the ass in the future."
Agent 5 coughed.
Blood ran from the corner of his mouth, thick and dark.
"I don't give a shit," he spat.
Teji didn't move.
Didn't blink.
His hand stayed firm on the gun, finger just a twitch away from ending it.
"You know why I'm above you in the top 5?" he asked, voice low.
He stepped closer—until Agent 5 could see the blood on Teji's teeth, the fire in his eyes.
"It's obvious," Teji whispered.
"You're weak."
His stare burned straight into Agent 5's skull.
Cold. Unrelenting.
Like a blade pressed to the soul.
For a split second—Agent 5 froze.
And in that heartbeat, he felt something he hadn't felt in years.
Fear.
They trained together.
Fought in the same ranks.
Same missions. Same blood on their hands.
But never—not once—had he seen this look in Teji's eyes.
Not rage.
Not pain.
Death.
Wearing a human face.
Agent 5's voice cracked.
"You're… not the same kid from training…"
His lip curled. "You think turning into a monster makes you better than us?"
Teji leaned down, face inches from his.
"No," he said.
"I'm not."
Then came the whisper—soft like a secret, cold like the grave:
"See you in hell."
BANG.
Just like that—it was over.
The body twitched.
Then stopped.
Still.
Silent.
Teji exhaled slow and heavy.
Then turned his gaze to the counter.
Tamiki flinched.
Their eyes met.
"It's good…" Teji said, voice quieter now. "You can come out."
And with that, his legs gave way.
He dropped to one knee.
The rush of adrenaline was gone—
And in its place came the pain.
Blinding. Crushing. Real.
He clutched his chest, fingers digging into the wound.
Blood poured through his hand, soaking his shirt, dripping onto the floor.
Tamiki ran to him. Fast.
Panic all over her face.
"Hey—stay with me, okay?" she cried, voice cracking.
"Please—please don't die—!"
Her hands hovered, shaking.
She didn't know where to touch, what to do.
It was her first time seeing this much blood—this much realness right in front of her.
Teji looked up—barely.
His breath was rough.
His face pale.
But he nodded, slow.
"No… I'm fine," he said, even if his voice didn't sound like it.
He reached into his jacket.
Fingers shaky, digging through pain.
Pulled out a small metal canister.
Simple. Silver. Government-grade.
"Boizano-issued," he muttered.
"Special spray. Stops bleeding in seconds."
He tried to smile, but it barely formed.
"You already saw this one… back in the classroom. Remember?"
Tamiki nodded fast, wiping her tears, trying to help him lift the canister.
Teji leaned back against the wall.
Weak—but alive.
For now.
Teji grabbed the bayonet still lodged in his chest.
One breath in—
Then yanked.
SHNK!
Blood poured out.
A sickening wave down his ribs, soaking his shirt in seconds.
Tamiki gasped, hands over her mouth.
But before panic could take her—
PSSST!
A short burst from the spray.
That silver Boizano canister hissed against the wound.
Almost instantly, the bleeding stopped.
The blood thickened—then sealed. Like the wound froze in time.
Teji let out a shaky breath.
Looked over his shoulder.
"Thanks… for listening," he muttered.
"Hiding behind the counter like I told you."
Tamiki nodded slowly.
Still pale. Still shaking. But listening.
"Okay… but… are you sure you're gonna be okay?" she asked softly.
Teji smirked—tried to laugh—
But it turned into a cough, wet and rough.
"Yeah. I'm goo—"
BZZT.
His comm bud crackled.
A voice came through.
Cold. Sharp.
"Agent 4."
Teji's eyes narrowed.
"You just rejected your mission. And executed another agent.
That was unacceptable."
A pause.
Then—
"As of now… you are considered a traitor.
Boizano will hunt you down."
Silence.
Tamiki's breath caught in her throat.
Her hand reached toward Teji, but stopped halfway.
Teji's face darkened.
His jaw clenched. His gaze sharp as a blade.
"That bastard Agent 5…" he growled.
"He harmed me.
He harmed Tamiki."
His fist trembled, not from pain—but from fury.
"I'll never forgive that."
He lowered his eyes, voice low… colder than the voice in the comm.
"And if any of you ever touch her again…"
A pause.
"Even death… won't save you."
Then—
He ripped the comm bud from his ear.
Tossed it to the ground.
STOMP.
POP!
Sparks burst out across the tiles, flashing for just a second.
Tamiki blinked, heart racing.
She'd heard it.
Her name.
He said it.
He wasn't just fighting for himself anymore.
"…What did they tell you?" she asked quietly, eyes locked on him.
Teji looked up.
"I'll be hunted," he said flatly.
"By everyone in Boizano."
Tamiki stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Teji…"
She looked into his eyes.
Saw the pain. The rage. The weight of it all.
"What are you gonna do now?
They'll come for you.
You'll be killed."
Teji stood up, slow and steady.
His body still weak—but his presence? Unshaken.
He glanced at the shattered comm on the ground, then at her.
A faint breath left his lips.
"Don't worry. I've taken lives before."
He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
"But this one… this one's personal."
His eyes locked forward. Focused. Sharp.
No fear.
Just the calm before a storm.
[End of Chapter 9]