Critical Encounter

The two of them ran at us with frightening speed. Ren and I leapt aside instinctively to evade their attacks, but not together. Instead, we were separated with ease, like it had been their plan from the start. They cut through our formation without even trying.

“Taro!” Ren’s voice carried across from where he had jumped, his voice sharp and commanding. “Eat the Pink Strawberry! The one I gave you earlier. Do it now – if we are to stand a chance, you have to eat it!”

My hand whipped to one of my pockets at my side. I fished it out in an instant. The Pink Strawberry glowed against my palm as I looked down at it. Had this been the first time, perhaps I would have hesitated, the foreign essence of it likely worrying me.

Yet this was not the first time…and so I was more than ready to eat it and transform again.

But as I brought it towards my mouth, a sudden blur cut across my vision.

My face twisted to the side and my head snapped back violently, pain ringing through my jaw like a strike from a gorilla. My grip failed, and the Pink Strawberry flew from my hand.

I staggered backwards, my eyes fleeting wildly until I locked onto him — the leader, standing right in front of me, his fist still raised from the punch while the same grin crossed his face.

The world around me wobbled for a moment. “Jesus…that was immense,” I muttered to myself while rubbing my cheek.

It certainly hurt more than any punch I had ever received from Ren.

Though my body throbbed, I didn’t let it give way. Not this time. Not like I know it would have before. I realised then how much stronger I’d become in this place.

Before I could gather myself, his boot smashed into the fallen strawberry, kicking it far out of reach, scattering it somewhere to the side, away from where we were standing. “Not so fast,” he sneered, one corner of his scarred face twisting upward. “I’m afraid I can’t let both of you use one of those.”

My eyes widened — but not in despair. Because, across the field, I could see that Ren had eaten his.

He had already changed.

His body pulsed violently, his outline warping under an unseen force. Then came the lightning from his sword. Pure, raw energy erupted from him, sparking in chaotic bursts that illuminated the trees like storm-lanterns. His roar mirrored what I had seen back in the cave — it wasn’t entirely human; it was feral and…scary.

He charged at his opponent, his blade of lightning tearing through the air. The NPC he was fighting — the bald, grey man — was barely able to raise his arms in defence before Ren crashed into him like a tidal wave.

The sound of impact echoed, splitting the sky apart.

The leader, however, didn’t seem very impressed, nor did he appear scared. His confident demeanour never wavered. He looked away from the bald man I was fighting, half-turning and speaking his last words to him. “You deal with him.” His finger pointed lazily at me as he watched Ren’s battle with his other lackey. “The other one is clearly the threat. We’ll kill him first, then I’ll help you finish off this one…not that I expect you’ll need help, though.”

And with that, he strode toward Ren, leaving me to fight one-on-one.

From that moment, I never regained the chance to check on Ren and see how his fight was going. A single lapse in focus could prove fatal.

Thus, our fight had properly begun.

The man facing me moved strategically. He didn’t rush me with brute force. If anything, he was toying with me. Every strike of my flaming sword was parried as if it were nothing, his hands snapping out so fast I could barely register them.

When he hit back, it wasn’t with heavy blows meant to kill. Instead, he flickered in and out of my vision, reappearing in front of me just long enough to deliver a light punch to my cheek or chin before vanishing again.

It was agitating to say the least.

The stings piled up, leaving me red-faced and humiliated, like I was the target of some cruel game. He was playing with me, and he…I knew it. And yet, I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Are you going to keep standing still?” he taunted as he blipped behind me, his fist landing square on my ribs. I lurched forward, growling in pain.

All of this was starting to anger me.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to endure the hits, ensuring that my rage didn’t outweigh my focus and my thinking. I had to find a solution to this; I had to read him.

After finding a short, invaluable time to think, I began taking his punches deliberately, letting them hit, just so I could focus on his pattern — the rhythm of his steps, the way the air shifted around before he appeared. I didn’t just have to look, I had to listen carefully.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of humiliation, I thought I had it.

He fazed into my sight, just as I had predicted, and I swung with everything I had, a flaming arc that without a doubt was going to slice him into two. “Got you!”, I shouted.

Or so I thought.

He caught my sword. His bare hand gripped the burning blade like it was no hotter than a stick of wood. His smirk never wavered.

Then he lifted me.

The world blurred as he swung me around with my own weapon. He hurled me into the dirt with a bone-shaking crash, my lungs emptied in a single gasp.

I coughed, scrambled to rise, but he was already on me. His fists became a storm — one, two, three…ten — raining down on me without breaking. My body was battered, my arms barely blocking enough to keep me conscious.

But somewhere amongst that haze, something clicked.

I realised something.

I kept the thought to myself, not letting my expression tell my deep secret.

I weaved clumsily out of the way, buying time. His fists landed again and again, but less meaningfully now. Each step I took was deliberate. Each dodge bought me a second more and closer to where I needed to be.

Finally, I stopped running. My chest heaved. My flaming sword glowed in my hand.

“I’ve read you,” I yelled, drawing him in.

He came at me head on, faster than ever.

I swung. A heavy, all-out strike meant to carve him apart.

But he dodged…like I knew he would. My sword slammed into the ground. I missed him completely.

His grin widened. “You’ve left yourself wide open. Now you—”

But then he stopped.

I turned my head slowly, grinning with my lips stained pink. My mouth dripped with pink juice.

He blinked, confused — then averted his gaze to my sword, its end having pierced the Pink Strawberry thrown into the ground not so long ago.

The truth behind my plan had been revealed: I’d aimed not at him, but at my real target — the fallen strawberry, buried in the dirt near where my blade struck. I’d skewered it deliberately, splitting it open and stealing its power.

And now, having consumed it, my body began to transform, feeling the odd sensation for the second time.

My body convulsed, my muscles exploding outward. My veins felt like molten rock and my eyes burned red, while my grip on my sword tightened with monstrous force.

He stepped back instinctively, showing the first sign of fear I’d seen in him.

This time, I began chasing him. The roles had reversed.

My strikes now faster, heavier…unavoidable. He tried to run, but I was already wherever he went. The flames of my blade carved through the air before he could vanish. Blow after blow rained down until he faltered, his speed failing him under my relentless pursuit.

And then, finally, I caught him.

My blade pierced through his chest, fire searing through his body as his eyes widened with disbelief. I lifted him briefly on the blade before tossing him aside, his body crashing lifelessly into the dirt.

“One down,” I spat, panting heavily. “A third of the way there…and then I’d have finally avenged Izumi for good.”

But before I could even breathe in relief, a sound reached me. A ragged voice, yet I could tell the person speaking was smirking before turning to set my eyes upon them.

“Playing fair isn’t for people like us. That’s why we like to prey on gullible people like you.”

I turned sharply.

Across the field lay the second bald man, his corpse sprawled in ruin. But that wasn’t what froze me.

It was the leader.

Blood poured from him, one of his arms missing entirely, his breaths shallow but steady. And yet…he still smiled.

And then my heart stopped.

Standing in front of him was Ren.

Ren — in his monstrous form, lightning still howling around him. But his chest…

His chest was pierced clean through by a dagger.

My mind reeled.

Ren stumbled backwards, the blade buried deep and sticking out from the other side, his glowing eyes flickering with agony.

The leader coughed blood, but his grin never faded. “So close,” he rasped. “So close to us…and yet you never realised what was happening right beside you.”

He took a deep breath.

“Too bad.”