This is Their Moment, Not Ours
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"Was that part of your plan?" Phinks asked as he got up after being punched by the woman, his voice filled with both horror and fascination. He kicked away the fallen woman's corpse, looking at Haruto with newfound respect. "That was brutal."
"Adaptation is key in battle, Phinks. The strategy was indeed fine, but the execution... could have been improved." Haruto turned to the man, his eyes cold. "You should have paid attention to your surroundings. Your anger blinded you."
In contrast to Haruto's calm composure, the man was visibly shaken. He was staring at his own bloodied hand, as if seeing it for the first time. "I... I didn't... I didn't mean to..."
"Your actions have consequences," Haruto said, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "Now you face the consequence of underestimating us."
"I should have killed you when I had the chance," the man stammered, his voice choked with regret and fear.
"You're right," Haruto replied, his voice devoid of empathy. "You should have."
Before the man could regain his composure, Haruto was already moving. He moved like a shadow, his small form darting forward with an uncanny grace. His fingers curved, transforming into sharp, lethal claws.
A look of absolute horror passed over the man's face as Haruto neared him. He tried to pull away, to mount some sort of defense, but it was too late. Haruto's claws cut through the air, tearing open the man's chest with a horrifying ease.
The man choked on a scream, his eyes bulging as he stared down at his chest. He was looking at his own heart, held by Haruto's bloodied claw, still beating its last few beats. Blood welled up around the gaping wound, pouring out in a crimson flood. He fell to his knees, the strength leaving his body as quickly as his lifeblood drained away.
In the next breath, he collapsed on the ground, his body convulsing once before falling eerily still. The silence that followed was deafening, only broken by the steady drip of blood falling onto the marble floor.
The fallen bodies of the Nen users served as chilling testament to the grim resolve of the young combatants. The dust settled, revealing Haruto standing amidst the carnage, his aura rippling with latent power. Phinks, still sporting a grin, joined him, with Feitan and Canary falling in line shortly after. All three looked at Haruto expectantly; Canary's eyes held a profound trust, something that Haruto didn't fail to notice.
Their objective was clear, as set by their aged mentor, Koshiro. The task was to "deal" with Kagen. Deal. The word hung in the air, its meaning as fluid as it was merciless. Haruto had his interpretation, and it was not going to be pretty for the village tyrant.
Their path led them to Kagen's room, a walk filled with anticipation. Haruto's mind was already spinning a strategy, laying out the perfect checkmate. The plan was simple: Bring Kagen to the center of the village and present him to the villagers. It was time they met the beast that had shackled them for years.
Yet, Haruto's plan held a subtle test for these oppressed people. He held a firm belief – those incapable of fighting for their own freedom didn't deserve it. This confrontation would either ignite the fire of rebellion within them, or confirm their acceptance of a life of servitude.
As they neared Kagen's room, Haruto's gaze hardened, and the others took notice. "This is it," he said, his voice steady and resonant. "Remember, don't kill him. Not yet."
Feitan snorted. "You want to play with him first?"
Haruto met his gaze, the hint of a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Consider it an...educational experiment."
Phinks chuckled, his muscles twitching in anticipation. "Sure, as long as I get to hit him a bit."
"You all will," Haruto responded confidently, the glow in his eyes intensifying.
Canary glanced at Haruto, her expression unchanging, yet her respect for him deepening. "If it helps the villagers stand against Kagen, I'll follow your lead."
Haruto nodded, appreciating her dedication. To the young king-in-the-making, loyalty was paramount, and his companions' unwavering faith was an asset he intended to harness. His aura radiated an innate majesty, a kingly vibe that further solidified his leadership.
As they continued their march towards Kagen's room, a strange calmness blanketed the group, their minds filled with thoughts of the impending confrontation. Haruto's conviction, Feitan's irritation, Phinks's anticipation, and Canary's trust painted a vivid picture of the brutal justice about to be delivered.
With Kagen beaten and bound, Haruto and the others dragged him to the village center. It was almost dusk, and the village square was illuminated by the soft glow of torchlight. The sight of their once-mighty oppressor now humbled and vulnerable elicited a wave of disbelief among the villagers, their eyes widening in shocked silence.
Nestled in the shadows, Haruto watched the scene unfold. His sharp eyes observed every gesture, every flinch, every fearful glance exchanged between the villagers. This was an opportunity for him, an opportunity to understand the true nature of the human heart, to experiment, to play this game. He was the conductor, and the village was his orchestra. Every moment, every reaction was part of the symphony he was composing.
Canary was next to him, her trust in Haruto unwavering. She followed his gaze, her focus equally locked on the villagers' reaction. Feitan and Phinks were close by, their patience thinning as they waited for the villagers to make their move.
"This is taking too long," Feitan growled, his anger simmering beneath his cold exterior. "These weaklings can't even see their chance."
"Hush, Feitan," Haruto whispered without breaking his gaze from the scene, his voice a commanding whisper. "This is their moment, not ours."
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