The exterminator chronicles

Read atleast ten chapters before giving up reading exterminator chronicles thank you

In the heart of a ruined cityscape, under the cloak of night, a young boy named Joze, merely ten years of age, races through the debris-strewn streets. His breath comes in ragged gasps, a symphony of fear and determination. Behind him, a monstrous creature looms, its massive limbs crashing down in relentless pursuit.

"Just a bit more... I can't let it catch me!" Joze pants, his voice barely a whisper against the cacophony of destruction.

As the creature raises its arm to smash the little boy, a sudden blue light descends from the sky, obliterating the monster in an instant. Standing where the light originated is a mysterious man in his twenties, his smile gentle, his aura comforting yet powerful.

"Tough little guy, aren't you?" the man says, extending a hand to Joze.

Looking up, Joze's eyes brim with admiration. But as quickly as the man appeared, he vanishes into thin air, leaving Joze alone with the echoes of his heroism.

Fast forward to the present day, in an urban alleyway, Joze, now sixteen and hardened by life's cruel lessons, engages in a fierce battle with a gang. He moves with precision, his body a whirlwind of motion, taking down assailants with a dancer's grace.

"This ends now," Joze thinks, his resolve as sharp as the edge of a knife.

A muscular gang member, known only as Brute, lands a heavy punch, sending Joze flying into trash bins. Blood trickles down Joze's chin, a crimson badge of honor. Wiping it away, his eyes burn with determination.

"Why don't you just die?" Brute sneers.

Joze rises, his stance unwavering, his spirit indomitable. He rushes forward, his punches swift, but Brute seems unfazed. Another punch sends Joze reeling, his vision blurring for a moment.

"Damn, I lost consciousness for a second..." Joze thinks, shaking off the fog of disorientation.

As Brute charges, Joze's instincts kick in. He dodges and counters with a powerful punch, followed by a backflip kick that knocks Brute out cold.

With the fight over, Joze takes out his phone and dials.

"Boss, it's done," he says, and with a click, the conversation ends.

He pockets the phone and heads home.

At Joze's apartment, his sister Cathy, thirteen and worry etched on her face, waits.

"You did it again, big bro. I told you to stop getting involved with gangs," she chides.

Joze ruffles her hair affectionately, a tired smile on his lips.

"Little Cathy cries for me again, huh?" he teases.

Cathy frowns, her concern unmasked.

"You liar," she retorts.

Yawning, Joze feels the toll of the fight weigh on his bones.

"Anyway, I'm tired... Goodnight," he says, and retreats to his room, leaving the worries of the world behind the closed door.