Disappearance of Fighters!

The young man sighed deeply, running a hand through his neatly combed hair as he paced the room. His steps were measured, but there was a sharp tension in his movements, betraying the turmoil in his mind.

"Another monster so young," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His words hung in the air like a grim acknowledgment of reality. He stopped pacing and turned to Howard, his piercing gaze filled with unease. "If that's the case, normal fighters don't stand a chance against him."

Howard, sitting stiffly as a servant tended to the metallic gashes on his body, nodded in agreement. His face was grim, every word weighed down by the bruising defeat he had just endured. "You're right," he rasped, his voice low and bitter. "Unless the elders get involved."

The young man paused, visibly uncomfortable with the suggestion. The elders of the Black Council were their ultimate trump card, the elite fighters who stood at the peak of the Hall Master level. Their power was unparalleled, each elder wielding combat prowess that made them legendary.

"If the elders take action, there's no doubt the fight would be over in moments," Howard continued. "But convincing them to move won't be easy. They won't waste their strength on a single fighter unless there's something significant to gain."

The young man frowned, pacing again. "He's already aware of us now. After this attack, he'll become more cautious, maybe even go into hiding. The next opportunity to catch him may never come unless we act decisively."

"What do you suggest?" Howard asked, his sharp, scarred features twitching with irritation.

The young man paused in thought, then smirked darkly. "What if we lure him out? Use his weakness against him."

Howard's eyes narrowed. "You're talking about his family and friends?"

"Precisely," the young man said, his tone almost flippant. "Everyone has a soft spot. Threaten those closest to him, and even the strongest warrior will kneel."

Howard's lip curled into a grim smile. "Not a bad idea. Capture his family, threaten to kill them if he doesn't surrender. It's a simple solution."

But before the plan could gain traction, the young man's smirk faded, replaced by a strange expression. He leaned against the desk, his fingers drumming lightly on the wood. "There's just one problem," he said with a shrug. "You might be disappointed."

Howard tilted his head, his scarred face twisting in confusion. "Disappointed? Why?"

The young man shook his head with a soft laugh, his tone laced with reluctant admiration. "Zack is not only strong; he's clever. His family and friends have already been relocated. Days ago, in fact. We've been keeping an eye on him, and not a single one of them has shown up in Malian City since. Odds are, they're far away by now."

"What?" Howard's expression darkened, his body tensing despite the pain he was in.

"That's the brilliance of it," the young man continued. "He knows exactly how this game is played. He doesn't just protect his strengths; he eliminates his weaknesses before anyone can exploit them. He probably anticipated something like this would happen."

Howard exhaled slowly, shaking his head in frustration. "A man like that… always thinking three steps ahead." He paused, his thoughts churning. "It makes sense now. He must've noticed the rising world energy and understood the risks. He didn't just move his family; he probably transferred his assets too. That way, even if he falls, they'll be safe, able to rebuild elsewhere."

The young man nodded. "That's the type of opponent we're dealing with. He's not just brawn; he's brains. And that makes him all the more dangerous."

---

Meanwhile, back in the darkened alley, Harry stood amidst the wreckage of his battle with the black-robed man. The metallic scent of blood lingered in the air, mixed with the faint acrid smell of smoke from the explosion earlier.

His gaze was sharp, scanning the scene as he reflected on the confrontation. The numbers in his mind; his connection to the world's energy, had surged rapidly during the fight. In mere moments, he had gained ten, twenty, even thirty points of energy. The growth was exhilarating, but it came with a heavy realization.

'The faster the simulation energy grows, the deeper I'm sinking into this mess,' he thought, his expression unreadable. He knew from experience that such rapid growth often signaled an escalation in the danger ahead. The stakes were rising, and he had to be ready.

Harry muttered to himself, his voice quiet but resolute. "The bigger the waves, the bigger the fish. If I want to survive this, I need to grow stronger. Fast."

His thoughts drifted briefly to Karina, Wendy, and the others he had sent away. They were safe now, far from Malian City and the chaos brewing within it. He had made sure of that. If anything happened to him here, at least they would have a chance to start over somewhere else. That knowledge gave him a rare sense of peace, clearing his mind for the battles ahead.

Shaking off the lingering tension, Harry stepped forward, his resolve hardening. "There's no room for hesitation. I need to keep moving."

---

The following weeks brought troubling news. The once-contained gangs of Malian City were beginning to stir, their activities growing increasingly bold and violent. Riots broke out in the streets as factions clashed for dominance, arresting people seemingly at random and escalating conflicts with local authorities.

Harry also heard whispers of fighters being targeted. Some were ambushed, others vanished without a trace. Someone was systematically hunting them, though the motives remained unclear. The city, once chaotic but predictable, now simmered with a dangerous unpredictability.

Harry sat in silence at the Red Bird Dojo, absorbing the reports from his students. His mind raced with possibilities, connecting dots and piecing together the growing picture of turmoil.

"They're getting desperate," he muttered to himself. "If they're targeting fighters, it means they're building toward something. And whatever it is, I won't let them succeed."

For now, he would continue to train, to grow. But he knew it was only a matter of time before the storm broke and when it did, he would need to be ready to face it head-on.

Inside the training hall of the Red Bird Dojo, the air was tense, crackling with barely contained anger. Harry stood at the center of the room, calm and composed as always, though the frustration radiating from those around him was almost tangible.

"I see," Harry finally said, his voice quiet yet firm, as he carefully placed the item he had been holding onto the table beside him.

"Master Zack, this cannot stand!" A senior student stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides, his face flushed with barely suppressed rage. "It was bad enough when they were targeting fighters outside. But now, they've dared to set their sights on 'us'—on the Red Bird Dojo! We have to strike back, and strike hard!"

"That's right!" another chimed in, his tone equally indignant. "If we don't act now, they'll think we're weak! If we let this slide, anyone will think they can come and trample all over us!"

The room filled with murmurs of agreement. Anger was etched into every face. It wasn't just pride that stoked their fury, it was the audacity of the attacks. The mysterious force that had recently appeared in Malian City had been quietly abducting fighters for weeks, escalating from smaller independent practitioners to members of established Dojos. The Red Bird Dojo was no exception. Ellie had been one of the first to fall victim, but she wasn't the last.

Several others from the Dojo had since been attacked or disappeared entirely. None of them had been major figures, but that didn't dull the sting of humiliation. It was an affront not only to their institution but to the discipline and honor that martial arts represented.

Harry listened silently to their impassioned pleas, his sharp eyes scanning the room. Finally, he exhaled softly, his face calm but thoughtful. "I see," he repeated, the words heavy with unspoken understanding.

The crowd quieted, waiting for his response. They respected Harry deeply, not only for his rank but for the strength and intelligence he had demonstrated time and time again. If anyone could guide them through this crisis, it was him.

"I have an idea of who's behind this," Harry said after a long pause, his voice steady but carrying an edge. His words immediately captured everyone's attention. "It's the Black Council. There's no doubt about it."

A collective murmur rippled through the room. The Black Council's name carried an almost mythical weight, an underground organization known for its ruthless tactics and shadowy influence. Few dared to cross them, and fewer still survived to tell the tale.

"But knowing it doesn't change the fact that we can't confront them directly," Harry continued, his voice cutting through the growing whispers. "After their last encounter with me, they've become cautious. Wherever I appear, they vanish. They've stopped engaging altogether, instead choosing to strike from the shadows where they can't be traced."

His tone darkened, and his jaw tightened. "They know my strength, and they're smart enough to avoid me. But that also means I can't protect everyone. I'm just one man, I can't be everywhere at once."

The room fell silent. The reality of Harry's words was undeniable, yet it only added to the sense of frustration. For all his power, even Harry couldn't shield the entire Dojo from an enemy that operated like ghosts in the night.

After fielding a few more questions and calming the students as best he could, Harry dismissed the group. As the others filtered out of the hall, their anger tempered but not extinguished, Harry remained behind, his thoughts heavy.

---

Back in his private quarters, Harry sat alone, his hands steepled under his chin as his mind churned. The weight of responsibility hung heavily on his shoulders. Ever since Steven , the master of the Red Bird Dojo, had been injured, Harry had taken on the full burden of leadership. Normally, it was manageable, but with the escalating attacks, the pressure had grown exponentially.

His thoughts drifted to Steven , the head of the dojo. Harry hadn't seen him much since the injury. Steven had withdrawn into his private chambers, leaving Harry to handle the Dojo's affairs entirely on his own. At first, Harry had assumed it was due to the severity of his injuries, but the more he thought about it, the more something felt… off.

The circumstances of Steven 's injury were still murky. There had been no clear explanation of how it had happened or who was responsible. And now, even as the Dojo faced mounting threats, Steven had chosen to remain in seclusion. Harry couldn't help but feel that his absence was deliberate.

"Is he hiding something?" Harry muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the dimly lit room around him. Steven had always been a shrewd and calculating man. If he was avoiding the situation, there had to be a reason. Was it cowardice? Or was he privy to some knowledge that Harry wasn't?

He stood abruptly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Avoidance won't solve anything," he muttered under his breath, the weight of the situation bearing down on him. Whatever Steven knew or was hiding, it wouldn't change the fact that the Dojo was in danger. And right now, it was Harry who had to bear the responsibility of protecting it.