Double Trouble Part-II : Hiroshi's Rage

“Prepare to die.”

Hiroshi’s voice was cold, stripped of all emotion. The moment the words left his mouth, he shot forward.

Yataro barely had time to react.

Hiroshi’s fists tore through the air, one after another, each strike crashing forward like a thunderbolt released at point-blank range. The speed was overwhelming—far beyond what Yataro had faced moments ago.

He managed to block and counter, his own fists meeting Hiroshi’s just in time, but the impact sent sharp pain shooting through his arms. Hiroshi didn’t slow. He didn’t step back.

Instead, his punches accelerated.

They doubled in speed, blurring into afterimages. The pressure alone forced Yataro to leap backward, skidding across the floor to create distance.

Hiroshi tilted his head slightly and stepped forward.

“Scared already, are we?”

Yataro clicked his tongue and vanished in a burst of motion.

“RAPID STRIKES!”

He reappeared in front of Hiroshi, unleashing a devastating barrage of punches, fists flying faster than before, each one aimed to overwhelm.

Hiroshi calmly raised a hand.

Yataro slammed to a halt—his forehead stopped dead by a single finger. His fists couldn't reach enough to hit. He felt like an insulted toddler stopped mid playtime.

“You make me yawn.” Hiroshi said, looking down on Yataro.

Before Yataro could even register the insult, Hiroshi’s fist smashed into his face.

The impact launched Yataro straight into the ceiling. Cracks spiderwebbed outward as his body slammed hard before dropping face-first to the ground.

He groaned and forced himself up—

Only to be met with a brutal kick to the face. His body flew backward, skidding violently across the floor.

Yataro staggered to his feet, breathing heavily.

“His attack speed… his strength… both have drastically increased. And he’s not fighting in rage.” The realization tightened his chest.

“He’s calm! He's so impossibly calm!”

“RAPID STRIKES!” Yataro lunged again, repeating the technique, punches flooding forward in a relentless storm.

This time, Hiroshi answered directly.

Their fists collided at blinding speed.

The sound echoed like gunfire ripping through a battlefield. Black and orange-blue sparks burst violently with every impact, filling the air.

“Give up, turd-head,” Hiroshi said calmly as their fists clashed. “We both know you can’t win.”

“What the hell did you just call me, brat?!” Yataro snarled.

“I called you a turd-head,” Hiroshi replied without hesitation. “What are you going to do about it?”

Yataro’s expression twisted.

“RAPID STRIKES—MAXIMUM SPEED!”

His punches accelerated violently, surpassing Hiroshi’s speed at last.

Yet Hiroshi didn’t flinch.

He didn’t even acknowledge it.

As their fists continued to collide, a familiar voice echoed in Hiroshi’s mind.

“Fire has no shape. No size. It can become anything. It can morph freely. And because of that… your flames can evolve endlessly.”

Those were Majuro’s words.

Hiroshi’s eyes sharpened.

“Alright,” he said mid-clash. “Here goes nothing.”

“BURNING PUNCH BARRAGE!”

His fists ignited. Flames wrapped around his hands, raging like wildfires breaking loose.

A new move was created.

His punches surged forward at blinding speed, each strike carrying searing heat and crushing force.

Hiroshi unleashed a relentless storm of flaming blows.

Yataro could only respond with his own punches, his body jolting violently as scorching shockwaves tore through him with every hit.

“Did this brat just improvise his fighting style mid-battle?!” Yataro thought, tensed.

The clash escalated into pure chaos.

Black and orange-blue sparks spiraled outward, forming a violent storm, two warriors locked at its center, neither backing down.

BOOM!

BAM!

BASH!

COUNTER!

BOOM!

BASH!

BAM!

BOOM!

Yataro suddenly leapt back, drawing all his power into a single, decisive strike.

“DRAIN PUNCH!”

He lunged forward, aiming to end it in one blow.

Hiroshi’s flames flared violently for a split second.

“FLAMING TALON!”

Another new move was created.

This time, Hiroshi's fist blurred forward in a single, super fast, concentrated punch.

Their fists collided.

BOOM!

A massive shockwave ripped through the entire room, the ground cracking beneath their feet.

For a brief moment, everything went silent.

Then—

CRACK!

The sharp sound echoed as fractures spread through Yataro’s fist, his bones breaking under the overwhelming force.

Yataro screamed, his voice cracking as agony tore through him.

“ARGHH! YOU BRAT!! YOU MUST DIE!! FINAL FORM—DARKNESS GHOUL—!”

He never got the chance to finish.

Hiroshi stepped in.

“Let’s put an end to your suffering,” he said calmly. “PIERCING FLAME STRIKE!”

A new move was created again.

There were no outer flames this time.

No wild firestorms.

Instead, Hiroshi’s arm began to glow from within, as if molten heat had been sealed inside his flesh. The air around his fist distorted violently, sizzling, screaming under the unbearable temperature. It wasn’t burning outward—it was compressing inward.

Dark energy rushed over Yataro’s body, wrapping around him in layers as he desperately tried to complete his transformation.

Too late.

In a single flash, Hiroshi’s punch landed.

His fist pierced straight through Yataro’s abdomen.

The impact shattered his solar plexus completely.

Yataro’s body convulsed as the breath was ripped from his lungs. Blood spilled from his mouth as his voice broke into gasps.

“N–No… th–this can’t… can’t happ–happen…” he wheezed. “I… I can’t… die… Not— not like this…”

The darkness coating him scattered, dissolving into faint light as his body lost all strength.

Hiroshi pulled his arm free.

Yataro collapsed, hitting the ground with a dull thud. His eyes went blank.

For a moment, it seemed over.

Then his body twitched.

Once.

Twice.

Violently.

The heat Hiroshi had driven into him hadn’t escaped.

It stayed.

His flesh began to melt from the inside.

Blisters swelled across his skin and burst instantly, tissue dissolving into sludge. Muscle liquefied. Bone softened. His form collapsed inward, turning into a thick, bubbling mass of dead organic matter.

The stench of burning flesh flooded the room.

Inside Krooke’s red dome, Jinah froze.

Her breath hitched. 

“D–Did he just… kill Yataro? How… how did he even—? How did he turn that red?!”

Her mind snapped backward into an old, buried memory.

A battlefield...

No— a city.

Reduced to ashes...

Nothing left but dust, rubble, and silence.

A lone figure walked through the ruins.

His body covered in Iron armor.

A barbarian helmet with horns.

His face unseen.

His body wrapped in the same red aura.

THUMP!

The memory shattered.

Hiroshi slammed his fist against the red barrier surrounding Jinah. The dome trembled but held.

He leaned forward, pressing his hand against it.

“Kitty, kitty… little kitty…” His voice turned playful, almost sing-song. “Come out of your box…”

Jinah backed away, fear tightening her chest.

“Y–You… How can you use that form?!” she shouted. “Your body isn’t meant for it! It’s not a form for humans! Only our master can use it! How can you—”

She froze.

A name surfaced.

Her eyes widened.

“Rorark…” she whispered. “You’re Rorark!”

Hiroshi tilted his head. “I don’t know what you’re saying, kitty.”

“Don’t call me a kitty!” she snapped.

“Then what should I call you?” he replied cheerfully. “Is maggot any better?”

“You brat! I’d kill you!” Jinah replied furiously.

“Oh yeah?” His voice dropped, cold again. “Try it, maggot.”

Jinah swallowed hard.

“I can’t win if I stay here… This stupid barrier has to be broken... And for that, I need to make him lose control.”

She smirked.

“I get it now. You can use this form, so you must be a Varkonian.” Her eyes gleamed. “Or rather… a crossbreed.”

Hiroshi’s fingers twitched. “What are you trying to say, maggot?”

She smiled wider. 

“I don’t know… maybe your mom was…” she paused, savoring it, “…a slut.”

The word hit him like a bullet to the chest.

Hiroshi’s fists clenched violently.

“You say that again,” he growled, “and I’ll tear your body into a thousand pieces.”

“Oh yeah?” Jinah laughed nervously. “Then explain how you can use a form only Varkonians can. Your mom must’ve spent some quality time with one. A top-class slut, I’d say.”

WHAM!

Hiroshi slammed his fist into the barrier.

It didn’t crack.

WHAM!

Again.

WHAM!

Again.

His body trembled violently as his aura deepened, shifting into a darker, heavier red. Crimson lightning sparked through the thick coating of energy, crawling over his skin like living veins.

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

The strikes didn’t stop.

Inside the dome, Jinah trembled. 

“Oh no… He just went even more red… I might’ve made a huge mistake…”

Suddenly, the punches stopped.

Hiroshi lowered his head, his shoulders trembling violently, breath coming out in ragged bursts. His fists clenched so tightly that the air around them warped.

“You maggot…” he muttered, his voice shaking with barely contained rage.

Then he lifted his head.

His dull-red eyes locked onto Jinah’s through the barrier—perfectly aligned, predator to prey.

“I’ll have even more fun killing you,” he said, his lips curling into something that wasn’t a smile. “BURNING PUNCH BARRAGE!”

And then, the storm broke.

Thousands of punches erupted at once, hammering into the red dome surrounding Jinah. Each strike resonated like a cannon blast, the entire barrier shaking and vibrating violently under the relentless assault. The air screamed. Shockwaves rippled outward with every impact, the dome bending inward again and again, as if moments away from shattering.

Far from the chaos, Krooke lay on the ground, his broken leg twisted unnaturally. He stared at the scene in horror.

“Oh no… Hiroshi is using that form…”

Cold sweat ran down his back.

“I need to stop him. Before it’s too late.”

He tried to push himself up.

His body screamed in protest.

“Argh—!” he groaned as his legs gave out beneath him. “Damn it… I need to do something. Quickly!”

His gaze shifted.

Shinzo’s body lay motionless nearby.

Krooke froze.

An idea struck him like lightning.

“No…” he whispered, already dragging himself forward. “If this doesn’t work… nothing will.”

He pulled himself beside Shinzo and stared at the gaping hole in his chest. The sight made his throat tighten.

“Hiroshi will never stop like this,” Krooke murmured. “Not until he dies…”

He hovered his hand over the wound, his fingers trembling.

“So please…” he whispered. “Work.”

“REVIVAL PULSE!”

A thin layer of blood-red energy wrapped around his hand as his vision faded.

And then—

Everything turned red.

A heavy presence pressed down on him.

A voice echoed through the void—dark, ancient, and merciless.

“Are you prepared to trade half of your life force… to revive him?”

“Yes,” Krooke answered instantly.

The world snapped back.

Red energy surged from Krooke's palm into Shinzo’s body. Shinzo’s pale skin slowly regained color, his body jolting violently as life forced its way back in.

The hole in his chest began to close—painfully slow.

“Damn it…” Krooke muttered, reaching into his back pocket. His fingers wrapped around something smooth and warm.

A golden, oval fruit.

A Golden Amalaki.

“Please work…”

He split it in half, and ate one.

Then gently placed the other into Shinzo’s mouth.

Munch. Munch. Munch.

As Krooke chewed, warmth surged through his body. His wounds sealed instantly. His shattered bones snapped back into place, fusing together as if they had never broken.

Shinzo’s healing accelerated.

The hole in his chest filled rapidly, skin knitting together perfectly. No scars. No marks.

Suddenly—

Shinzo gasped.

“KROOKE!” he shouted. “SAVE YOURSELF!”

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then Krooke laughed weakly and pulled Shinzo into a tight hug.

“Wha— what happened?” Shinzo asked, stunned. “Where’s Yataro?”

“Forget that, idiot,” Krooke said, his voice breaking. “Did you seriously jump in the way like that? Why…? Why did you save someone who was so mean to you..? Why did you take the hit meant for me?”

Shinzo blinked. “I… wait. What? I died?!”

“Yeah,” Krooke said softly. “For a few minutes.”

He hugged him again, tears finally spilling over.

“Thank you for saving my life… brother.”

Shinzo stiffened, then smiled faintly. “You called me your brother. No need to thank me now.”

Krooke sniffed. “How did the Amalaki taste?”

“Ohhh,” Shinzo said slowly. “So that sweet taste… that’s Amalaki? No wonder I don’t feel any pain.”

Krooke chuckled. “Yeah. That’s what it does.”

Shinzo’s expression suddenly sharpened.

“Alright. Back to the important part,” he said. “Where’s Yataro? And where’s Hiroshi?!”

Krooke pointed.

Shinzo followed his finger—and froze.

A burnt, semi-solid mass of melted flesh lay on the ground.

“That’s… Yataro,” Krooke said.

Shinzo’s eyes widened. “WHAT?! Hiroshi defeated him?! Let’s go!”

“Don’t get too happy,” Krooke said grimly.

Shinzo frowned. “Why? And where’s Hiroshi?”

Krooke pointed again—behind him.

Shinzo turned.

Hiroshi was there there.

But not the Hiroshi they knew.

A thick layer of dark-red energy wrapped around his body like living armor, hundreds of crimson sparks racing through it endlessly. His presence alone warped the air.

He was relentlessly punching the red barrier trapping Jinah.

Again.

And again.

And again.

“What… what has happened to him?” Shinzo whispered.

Krooke didn’t look away from Hiroshi. His expression was grim, burdened with guilt.

“The answer is you.”

Shinzo froze. “Me…?”

“Yes. You.” Krooke’s voice hardened. “Your death shattered something inside him. The grief didn’t fade—it compressed. Focused. It became something else entirely. Something extraordinary.” He swallowed. “The Berserk form.”

Shinzo followed his gaze.

Hiroshi stood wrapped in a thick aura of dark red energy. Sparks tore through it like veins of lightning. The air around him warped, trembling under the pressure of his existence.

“The Berserk form…” Shinzo muttered, the words tasting bitter.

“The only way to stop him is you,” Krooke said quietly. “Only you can reach him now. If you don’t—he’ll die.”

Shinzo’s head snapped back. “Die? How?!”

“I’ve read about the Varkonians. Their bodies. Their limits.” Krooke clenched his fist. “There was a single record of this form. Used only by the one they call ‘Master.’ Others tried to replicate it through pain, through torture, through tearing themselves apart.”

His voice dropped.

“All of them died. Slowly. Gruesomely.”

A cold weight settled in Shinzo’s chest. “So… the same thing will happen to Hiroshi?”

“It might,” Krooke said. “And if you don’t move now, it won’t be a ‘might’ anymore.”

Shinzo hesitated, then forced a weak smile. “You really do read a lot of books, huh? It’s honestly scary how you have the exact answer to the exact problem—right on time—because you read some completely random book somewhere—”

“Don’t,” Krooke cut in. “Don’t make me regret reviving you.”

“…Sorry.” Shinzo said, sheepishly.

“Go. Now.”

Shinzo ran.

Hiroshi was still hammering the barrier, fists moving faster than sight, each strike exploding into violent sparks. The dome screamed with every impact, light tearing across its surface like burning cracks.

The sparks rushed outward. Shinzo raised an arm to shield his eyes, forcing himself closer despite the heat and pressure.

“Hiroshi! It’s me!” he shouted. “Look at me!”

He waved his hands desperately, trying to get Hiroshi's attention while standing barely a few steps away.

Hiroshi didn’t even slow down.

In his point of view, Shinzo didn't even exist. His eyes were locked into Jinah, with only one goal—kill her. 

He now neither cared about Shinzo, nor Krooke.

The punches continued—mechanical, merciless, endless.

Panic surged.

Shinzo turned back. “Krooke! It’s not working! He doesn’t even see me!”

Jinah’s voice cut through, calm but heavy with finality. “He won’t. His rage has blinded him completely. Either he kills me… or his body gives out. He will not stop until one of us dies.”

“Shinzo!” Krooke shouted. “Get back here. Now!”

Shinzo sprinted back, skidding to a halt beside him.

Krooke raised his clenched fist toward the barrier, eyes burning with resolve. “Jinah! If that’s how it has to be… then you will be the one to die.”

Jinah’s eyes widened. “No! Don’t do something this stupid!”

Krooke exhaled once.

“RELEASE!”

He shouted as he thrust his hand open.

The word echoed.

The barrier dissolved into nothing, fading like mist under sunlight.

Silence followed.

Hiroshi’s fists stopped mid-air.

Jinah stiffened, dread crawling up his spine. “Why did he stop?”

Slowly—too slowly—Hiroshi looked straight at Jinah, eye to eye.

The red energy around him pulsed violently as a wide, twisted grin spread across his face. His eyes burned with something feral. Something pleased.

Something utterly wrong.

“Finally,” he said, voice shifting into a tone of satisfaction. “I can kill you.”

Fear grasped Jinah as her body stiffened.

“FLAMING SUPER PUNCH!” Hiroshi declared, his tone snapping back into something cold and razor-sharp.

Another new move was created.

Flames surged over his hand in an absurdly thick layer, piling upon themselves until his fist swelled to nearly three times its original size. The heat was suffocating, warping the air around it as if reality itself were recoiling.

He hurled the massive punch straight toward Jinah.

Jinah reacted instantly. She dashed away in a blur, vanishing from the point of impact and reappearing behind Hiroshi in the same heartbeat.

Hiroshi’s punch tore through the air. As it did, the flames coating his fist detached and shot forward, compressing into the shape of a gigantic fire punch. It slammed into the floor with explosive force.

The ground shattered beneath it.

“I’ve had enough!” Jinah shouted, fury lacing her voice.

“Seki, Stage Three—Ruler Seki… ACTIVATE!”

The moment she spoke, thousands of purplish sparks erupted throughout the room. They whirled violently, forming a raging violet storm that swallowed everything in its path.

As the sparks slowed, a translucent purple domain expanded outward.

Anyone caught within it was forced to bow.

Shinzo and Krooke were slammed downward by the pressure, their bodies bending against their will as they struggled desperately to stay upright.

Hiroshi, however, resisted.

He stood straight, muscles tense, teeth clenched, refusing to submit.

“Argh—!” Krooke groaned through the pain. “That’s her seki… the Ruler Seki! A third-grade seki that weakens opponents and forces them to bow! It also carries Intimidation and Domain Seki effects—and her poison domain has expanded too!”

“My skin burns!” Shinzo cried out in agony.

“That’s Jinah’s domain!” Krooke shouted urgently. “Her poisonous field leaves acidic poison on the skin! We need to get out of it's range—now!”

“But we can’t even stand—!” Shinzo exclaimed, before his eyes widened as he noticed something. “How is Hiroshi even standing?!”

Far from them, Hiroshi remained unmoved, his body trembling under the pressure but refusing to bow.

Jinah stared at him, disbelief cracking through her composure. “Why aren’t you bowing down?!”

For a brief moment, nothing happened.

The pressure of her domain crushed the air itself. The purple field trembled, screaming for submission. Shinzo and Krooke were still pinned to the ground, their bodies shaking under the overwhelming force.

And yet—

Hiroshi stood.

His boots dug into the fractured floor as veins of heat pulsed beneath his skin. The red aura around him thickened, crawling like living flame, swallowing the pressure that tried to force him down.

Slowly, deliberately, he raised his head.

A wide grin carved itself across his face—wrong, unhinged, terrifyingly calm.

“Because…” His voice was low. Flat. Certain.

“…I’m simply stronger.”

The words landed heavier than any attack.

The domain shuddered.

Jinah felt it instantly—an instinctive, primal fear clawing up her spine. Her seki faltered for a split second, its authority questioned for the first time since its activation.

Behind him, the air ignited.

“Seki, Stage Three—Ruler Seki… ACTIVATE!”

Hiroshi’s seki exploded outward, a roaring inferno tearing into the purple domain like a predator claiming territory. Flames surged, swallowing Jinah’s poison field, burning it away piece by piece.

The force bowing them vanished.

The burning on Shinzo and Krooke’s skin ceased.

Two domains stood opposed—

and one was clearly dominant.

Jinah’s breath caught.

“His seki… It’s better than mine…” Her thoughts spiraled as fear took over.

Her poison domain was being erased, overwhelmed by sheer heat and pressure.

Fear settled in her chest, cold and undeniable.

Relief washed over Shinzo and Krooke as they finally managed to stand.

“Phew…” Krooke muttered, exhaling. “We can stand again.”

He lifted his left leg, moving it up and down experimentally. “And my leg’s fine too. Looks like the Amalaki did its job.”

“How can he even use this seki?” Shinzo asked, staring at Hiroshi in disbelief.

“The Berserk form drastically increased his Varkox level,” Krooke explained grimly. “That’s why his seki can match—and cancel—hers. For now, we’re feeling no effects.”

He paused, eyes darkening as he watched Hiroshi’s blazing form.

“But he’s using far too much power.”

Shinzo swallowed. “And… is that a good thing?”

“No,” Krooke said bluntly. “It’s really, really bad. His body could collapse at any moment from the sheer energy this form demands.”

Far from them, Jinah glared at Hiroshi, fury burning hot behind her eyes. The fear from before was gone—replaced by raw, seething rage.

“You must die, maggot,” Hiroshi said coldly.

Jinah’s jaw clenched. “Stop calling me that or you will regret it!”

Hiroshi didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t even tense up. He simply looked at her, eyes dull-red and empty, as if she were already dead.

“You don’t have the power to make me regret anything.”

Jinah scoffed. “Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Hiroshi replied calmly. “You can try, but it won’t work.”

He leaned forward slightly, red aura crawling like living flame around his body. A cruel smile tugged at his lips.

“Because… you know…”

The air grew heavy.

“I am stronger than you,”

A brief pause.

“Maggot.”

The word landed like a slap.

Jinah’s rage finally overflowed.

“Oh, boy!” she snarled. “You’ve now chosen death. Alright— you made your wish…”

The ground beneath her feet began to tremble.

“HYBRID FORM— REPTILIAN PRINCESS!”

A violent surge of energy erupted from Jinah’s body. Purple and sickly green light clashed as her form twisted unnaturally. Her skin hardened, shimmering as green-blue scales burst forth, layering over her body like living armor.

Her clothes dissolved and fused into her flesh, becoming part of her very being.

Bones cracked.

Muscles stretched.

Her legs fused together with a sickening sound, elongating rapidly as they reshaped into a massive, serpentine tail that slammed into the ground with enough force to fracture the floor.

Her body grew—twice her original size—towering, monstrous.

The upper half of her remained humanoid, but below the waist she had become entirely snake-like, coils of scaled muscle writhing with lethal power. Along the backs of her forearms, razor-sharp scales erupted, forming curved, spiked blades that glistened under the domain’s fading light.

Her face contorted as her canines extended, lengthening into long, venomous fangs. Her eyes turned red, glowing with predatory intent.

A low, guttural hiss escaped her throat.

From a distance, Shinzo and Krooke froze in shock.

“What the hell is that?!” Shinzo shouted, fear and confusion filling his mind at the same time.

Krooke’s expression darkened. “I know about all the Tyrants’ final forms…”

His voice wavered.

“But this… this Hybrid form… it’s something I’ve never seen.”

Jinah raised her head, towering over Hiroshi. Her voice emerged distorted—slithering, layered, and sharp, echoing unnaturally.

“Hirossshi… Prepare for your demisssse!”

Hiroshi didn’t step back.

He didn’t flinch.

The red aura around him pulsed once—slow, deliberate.

And he smiled.

To Be Continued…