End of Kagen

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Meanwhile, Kagen, struggling against his restraints, cast a look of pure hatred at the villagers. "Pathetic worms! You think this changes anything?" he spat. However, his words fell on deaf ears as the villagers began to muster their courage.

"Let's just rip him apart," Phinks chimed in, barely concealing his excitement at the thought of the violent end.

Haruto shot him a look, silencing him instantly. "Watch. Learn. This is not just about physical strength. This...," he gestured towards the villagers, "...is about the power of the spirit."

In that moment, something changed. A villager, a young man, stepped forward, his fists clenched. "He's weak now," he said, his voice echoing in the square. "We've been his slaves for too long! If we won't fight now, when will we?"

A murmur rippled through the crowd, then another villager joined him, and another. Slowly, but surely, they stepped forward, their faces hardened with resolve.

Haruto allowed a small smile, his golden eyes gleaming in the shadow. He turned towards Canary, who watched the scene with bated breath. "See? Even the meekest of creatures will fight when pushed to the edge."

The conversation among the children took a pause as they watched the villagers descend upon Kagen. The once-feared tyrant was now on the receiving end of years of pent-up rage and humiliation. The square echoed with cries of justice and revenge as the villagers served their own verdict.

As Kagen's pleas for mercy were drowned out by the villagers' enraged cries, Haruto turned to the others. "This is our world," he said, his voice filled with an unspoken ambition. "A world where the strong rule and the weak perish... or they rise."

In the shadows, Koshiro watched the young ones, his gaze lingering on Haruto. The boy was learning, adapting, and leading. His vision of the world was different, and in that difference, Koshiro saw a spark, a spark that could very well ignite the future of Meteor City.

"Phinks. Feitan. Canary," Haruto's voice cut through the grim ambiance, "let's go. Our work here is done."

The brutal symphony had reached its crescendo, and the conductor had left the stage. The village square was bathed in an eerie light, reflecting the harsh reality of survival and retribution. The once frightened and oppressed villagers had seized their moment, rising against their tormentor.

As they walked away, Haruto could hear the echoes of a new chapter for the village. The grim melody of revolt was something he found intriguing, a testament to the unpredictability and ruthlessness of human nature.

From a distance, Canary glanced back at the village square, her mind reeling from what she had just witnessed. The villagers had turned, their actions driven by years of oppression and a sudden opportunity. Her gaze then shifted to Haruto, his back turned to the chaos he had set into motion. She saw in him a leader, someone who manipulated situations with an uncanny understanding of human behavior.

Feitan walked silently, his face stoic as always, but there was a newfound respect in his eyes for Haruto. He appreciated the ruthless display of power dynamics and the hands-off approach that Haruto had implemented, allowing the villagers to enact their own justice.

Phinks too had been fascinated by the scene they had just left behind, but for a different reason. The raw power of the crowd, their violent unity against a common enemy, intrigued him. He had always enjoyed a good fight, but watching the oppressed rise had introduced him to a new side of combat, the side where psychological strength could triumph over physical prowess.

Koshiro, their mentor, watched them silently. His aged eyes held a hint of pride as he saw the seeds of wisdom sprouting in the young minds. Their journey had only just begun, and already, they were showing signs of profound understanding of their world. They had faced their first real test, and they had not just passed, but excelled.

As they silently retreated into the night, leaving the village to its newfound liberation, they all carried with them a stark reminder of the world they lived in. A world where strength ruled, where power dynamics shifted quickly, and where survival meant adapting, no matter the cost.

Haruto led them away, his youthful figure cast in the soft moonlight, his mind teeming with thoughts. He looked at his hand, smeared with the dried blood of his opponents, a symbol of his own ruthlessness and power. His gaze then shifted to his companions, each wrapped in their own thoughts, each carrying their lessons from the day.

Their journey was just beginning, their destinies intertwined in this harsh world, their path paved by strength, ambition, and an innate desire to survive. As Haruto mused, one thing became crystal clear. He was meant for more. More power, more control, more conquests. He was the king of this world. And this was just the beginning.

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