A Strange Power Develops

The moment the spirit turned, two press-on nails flew towards his eyes.

They’re too fast! The spirit thought.

There wasn’t any time for him to dodge. The spirit was just too big and heavy.

So the spirit raised his inflated arm. The pink nails sunk into it, though the spirit didn’t feel anything.

Confusion spread throughout the spirit’s face.

The way those nails flew ten feet into the air with such precision and strength…the spirit knew that no regular human could commit such a feat.

But the worst was yet to come.

Because the moment the nails hit the spirit’s arm, he sensed a dangerous presence running towards him.

With his arm still raised, the spirit looked down.

A young boy, who could’ve been mistaken for a mere high schooler, ran towards him, his body leaning close to the floor. The spirit couldn’t see the boy’s face. The only thing visible was the boy’s brown hair as he grasped the handle of his wooden katana.

From just that glance, the spirit knew that the boy was trouble.

Hatred seemed to ooze out of the boy’s very being.

The spirit now realized why he needed to dodge.

With no concern for his surroundings, the spirit swung his body to the side.

The back of his calf ran into multiple cubicles, causing bits of wood to spew into the air.

In the back corner of the room, huddled altogether, the small group of employees covered their heads and screamed—though the spirit didn’t pay it any mind.

He thought turning away would be enough to dodge the boy’s attack. After all, he widened the distance between them by a good amount. The boy would have to continue running to get to the spirit, and by that point, the boy would have already lost the battle. There would’ve been enough time for the spirit to launch an attack.

But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Although the boy was far from the spirit, a strange power enveloped the boy and drew an outline around his body.

Taking one deep breath, the boy slid his foot back before launching himself towards the spirit at a speed of which no human should ever be capable of committing.

“Hraaagh!!” the boy screamed.

Pain seared across the spirit’s legs. Both of them were slashed by the boy’s wooden katana. The spirit’s eyes widened in horror as chunks of his flesh dropped to the floor and dissipated.

The spirit didn’t bleed. In fact, he couldn’t.

But the fact that he was cut was something the spirit couldn’t wrap his mind around. It was insane. How could something made of wood cut with the ferocity of polished steel?

The spirit’s eyes widened. Right now, that was the least of his worries.

Because right now, the spirit was falling forward, and he knew that if his heavy body crashed onto the office floor, the brown-haired boy would end him there and then.

Baring angry fangs, the spirit growled.

I can’t let that happen! He screamed within his psyche.

All thoughts of destroying the building and the people in it left the spirit’s mind. This was now a life or death situation. Destroying the building was now the only way he could survive.

And so, the spirit raised his mighty fist and slammed it through the office floor.

Concrete and hardwood broke off into large pieces.

The group in the corner screamed.

There was a large hole two feet in front of them, and it was extending in their direction. Every one of them started backing into each other. They didn’t care if they were hurting one another. None of them wanted to fall through.

The lady with shiny black hair felt the same way. She backed up as well, but the force of the spirit’s punch caused her to slip. 

“Ahhhhh!!!!”

She fell on her bottom and was beginning to slip through the hole.

From a few feet away, the brown-haired youth saw the lady fall.

“Shoot!” he said.

The boy then dashed towards the lady.

He stretched his arm towards her, and she did the same towards him, but the boy knew he wasn’t going to reach her. He was a few inches off, and that fact got on his nerves.

“Come on,” the boy groaned.

He knew that he would have to use his special power, despite how naturally weak it was.

As the lady screamed, thinking this was the end for her, a power surged throughout the brown-haired youth.

With his outstretched hand, he directed this power towards the falling lady. And for a moment, the lady with shiny black hair was floating. Actually floating. In midair!

The boy grasped her hand and, with the same power surging within him, he leapt across the gaping hole. 

His back slid across the office floor. The lady the spirit once knew was lying on top of him.

Besides the two was the manager, who was unconscious and struggling to breathe.

The boy groaned.

Is he going to escape? The boy thought.

He glanced at the spirit and smiled at the sight. His question had been answered.

The large being was floating in midair, as well as all the concrete and wood that broke off from the spirit’s punch. 

There was an outline around them—both the spirit and the objects. It was an outline created from the same power the boy had used earlier, though the power was coming from a different source.

In seconds, the bits of broken floor repaired themselves. The giant spirit fell on top of it. Shock enveloped the spirit’s face.

“How is this possible?” the spirit growled. “What sort of magic is this?”

“It’s called telekinesis," said a snarky woman.

A chill ran down the spirit’s shadowy figure. Then his brows furrowed.

A ball of emotions swirled within the spirit.

There was anger; there was pain; but, most of all, there was fear.

The lady who spoke walked down a lane in the office, passing by the remnants of what were once cubicles.

All eyes were on her. It was as if her beauty demanded attention. She was dazzling with her luscious brown hair and office-inspired fashion. Even the way she held onto her purse was something an aspiring model would practice in front of the mirror day in and day out to emulate a form of elegance.

But the lady did it as naturally as she put on lipstick.

The spirit looked down at the lady’s hands. All but two of her fingernails were press-ons. If the spirit could sweat, then a drop of it would be sliding down the side of his cheek.

Because this lady was trouble. The spirit knew that for a fact. He wanted to get back on his feet, but couldn’t because of what the boy did to his legs. Instead, with his bottom pressed against the floor, the spirit pushed himself back.

“Who are you?!” the spirit shouted. "No! What are you?!"

The lady stepped forward.

“My name's Satsuki Watanabe,” she said, holding onto her purse. “Over there is my nephew, Ryoma. The people like to call us spirit hunters, but really, we’re psychics. And we’re here to take you down.”