Chapter 4: Mall Attack

The next day, Tokio walked home, his bag slung lazily over his shoulder. Blade walked beside him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey, why are you following me?” Tokio asked flatly.

“Huh? I’m just heading to your place to smash some buttons.”

Tokio sighed. “I seriously don’t get why teenagers are so obsessed with games.”

Blade shot him a sideways glance. “You’re a teenager too, genius. But you don’t seem that into games. So why do you even have consoles and a gaming box? They’re not exactly cheap.”

“I didn’t buy them,” Tokio said. “Someone gave them to me.”

Blade blinked. “Huh… lucky. Oh, by the way `Blade Rangers Vol. 4` drops today. Your box can run it, right? Wanna hit the mall?”

“Not interested.”

“You’re so lame, dude.”

At the mall, the two stood in a long line outside the game store. Somehow, Blade had convinced, or rather dragged Tokio into coming.

Blade’s phone buzzed. He answered casually, “Yo. Me? I’m at the mall. Just chillin’. You should come. Seriously, man, just come.”

He hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

“Who was that?” Tokio asked.

“It’s Hibe. He said he’s coming.”

“Now who’s Hibe?” Tokio asked.

“What? Are you serious? You don’t know?” Blade looked genuinely surprised. “It’s Eyepatch, dude. Don’t tell me you didn’t even know his name.”

“Unfortunately, no,” Tokio replied. “Also, I don’t even know your real name.”

“Whaaat?” Blade gasped in shock. “That hurts, man. We’ve been hanging out for a week and you don’t even know my name?”

“How am I supposed to know when everyone just calls you ‘Blade Blade’ all the time?” Tokio said. He continued, “So, what is your real name?”

Blade sighed and said, “It’s—”

Suddenly, the sharp sound of gunfire ripped through the air.

Eight men appeared, dressed in black racing-suit-like outfits and helmets. One carried a handgun, another a rifle—they began firing warning shots into the air.

“Everyone down! Kneel and put your hands on your head! Move and you’ll be shot!” one of the terrorists barked, his rifle sweeping across the terrified crowd. Chaos erupted. Screams echoed as people dropped to the floor, hands trembling atop their heads. Another terrorist moved to block the entrance, sealing them in.

After another round of blank fire, the first terrorist spoke again.

“We are here to complete a specific task.” He paused, then continued coldly,

“Gen Shiwazaki—surrender yourself to us. If you don’t, we will execute every civilian here. I will count to ten.”

He began counting.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

“Blade,” Tokio whispered, panic creeping into his voice. “This doesn’t look right. We should run if we even get the slightest chance…”

“Don’t move a muscle,” Blade hissed back. “They won’t hesitate to shoot.”

The countdown reached two.

Then, suddenly, a middle-aged man standing just ahead of Tokio and Blade in the game stall line rose to his feet.

“I’m Gen Shiwazaki,” he said firmly. “You’re after me, right? Just don’t shoot any civilians.”

“Come forward,” the terrorist ordered.

Shiwazaki stepped out, hands raised. The man with the rifle turned and aimed it squarely at his head.

An order came through the terrorist’s earpiece, “Shoot him.”

The terrorist’s finger tightened on the trigger, just a breath away from pulling it. Suddenly, a game box of ‘Blade Ranger Vol. 4’ flew through the air and slammed into his face.

Thrown at high speed by Blade.

The terrorist staggered, lowering his guard for just a second, enough for Blade to sprint forward and deliver a powerful kick to his chest. The rifle slipped from the terrorist’s grip and clattered to the floor.

Seizing the moment, Shiwazaki reached behind his back, pulled out a concealed pistol, and shot the terrorist in the leg. The man screamed and collapsed in panic.

Another terrorist opened fire rapidly, aiming at Shiwazaki but Shiwazaki rolled aside, dodging the bullets, and shot the gunman’s hand, causing him to drop his weapon with a cry of pain.

“Everybody run before these bastards get back to their weapons!” Tokio shouted.

Chaos returned but this time, the tide was turning.

Blade leapt into action, launching into a flurry of roundhouse kicks and punches against the unarmed terrorists who charged with knives. One after another, he dodged and countered with brutal precision.

Suddenly, a few burly rugby players who had been hiding behind a stall joined the fight, tackling the other unarmed terrorists in a wave of raw strength.

All the terrorists were down. The rugby guys finally relaxed a little, panting from the adrenaline.

“Hey, mister… you from the cops?” one of them asked Shiwazaki.

“You better call for backup—quick.”

Meanwhile, Blade stood over one of the unconscious terrorists, resting a foot on the man’s head with a twisted grin. He muttered under his breath:

“…You fuckers are lucky that cop guy’s here. If he wasn’t, I’d have slaughtered every one of you… bitches.”

Suddenly, the terrorist with a bullet in his leg blinked, focusing on Blade’s face. Recognition flared in his eyes.

“It’s you… you bastard…” he growled.

No one noticed as he slowly reached for the rifle lying nearby. In one swift motion, he grabbed it, stood, and pointed it at Blade.

Without warning, he opened fire.

Blade froze. In that instant, he felt death.

But before the bullets could reach him, Shiwazaki jumped in front of him.

The gunfire ripped through his body. Dozens of rounds punched through him. Blood sprayed across the floor, his body shaking with the force of the shots.

He collapsed to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth—but still, he smiled as he looked back at Blade.

Everyone stood frozen in shock.

Blade’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“You freak! Why the hell did you jump in front!?” he shouted.

The terrorist reloaded another magazine, seething with rage.

“You’re gonna pay for what you did to my brother!”

Blade’s expression changed. A twisted grin returned to his face. He leaned closer, speaking just loud enough for the terrorist to hear:

“Your brother? Oh… you mean that guy at Valley Park? Four months ago? Someone who got sliced into twelve pieces with a dull metal ruler?”

He chuckled coldly.

“Yeah… that sounds familiar.”

“DIE, YOU BITCH!!” the terrorist screamed, raising the rifle again.

But before he could fire, Blade opened his mouth, revealing a thin-sharp blade hidden above his tongue. In one smooth move, he pulled it out with his fingers and flung it with deadly precision.

The blade cut straight across the terrorist’s throat.

Blood gushed as the man stumbled back, gasping and gurgling before collapsing to the ground.

Dead.

Almost no one clearly saw what Blade had done except for Tokio.

Suddenly, NSIA agents stormed in, weapons drawn, surrounding the area.

“Nobody move! Stay where you are!” one of them commanded sharply.

Damn… this is bad. I need to get out of here fast, Blade thought.

An NSIA agent, a young woman, aimed her gun at him from behind. She couldn’t see his face clearly.

“You there! You’re the one who killed the attacker, aren’t you? Drop your weapon and surrender immediately!”

Before Blade could react, the lights suddenly cut out. Total blackout.

In the darkness, a voice shouted:

“RUN!”

Just as quickly as it came, the light returned.

But by then Blade and Tokio were gone.

Vanished.