The shelter, once devastated by the werewolf coup, had transford into a thriving haven. The survivors here had steadily rebuilt, developing technologies to make life easier and adapting to the harsh, ruined world outside.
Though things now felt almost normal, the pain of their past still lingered. Many could not forget the anguish of losing their old lives in the blink of an eye.
Then, a commotion stirred at the front gate.
Several vehicles pulled up, dusty and rugged from travel. A group of people stepped out, demanding entry and wishing to ask so questions. The guards, alert and cautious, responded that they would first need to check with their superiors.
After a tense wait, the gates opened partially. One of the guards stepped forward and said firmly, "If you want to enter, you’ll need to surrender your weapons. It’s protocol, for everyone’s safety."
The visitors protested, understandably.
"These weapons are for protection. We can’t just give them up."
But the guards stood their ground. "Rules are rules. No weapons inside. If your intentions are good, you’ll have nothing to worry about."
Eventually, the group relented and placed their weapons in the collection crate.
As they were allowed entry, the leader of the group stepped forward, a young-looking man with sharp features. His blond hair shimred under the daylight, though it was clearly dyed. His eyes, however, were a deep, unnatural black, calm yet unreadable.
With a slow, confident pace, the blonde man entered the shelter alongside his companions.
As they walked further into the settlent, the group observed the bustling life around them. People here had clearly adapted well to their new reality, houses had been built, small shops sold food and supplies.
It was as if they no longer cared about the world outside, having carved out a fragile sense of peace amidst the chaos.
One of the newcors leaned closer to the blonde man and said quietly, "Boss, this place looks way too peaceful compared to the last ti we scouted it."
The blonde man narrowed his black eyes as he surveyed the area. "Perhaps they’ve simply adapted quickly to their environnt. People are more resilient than we give them credit for."
He paused for a mont, then added, "Let’s talk to a few of them. See what we can learn before we move on with our journey."
As the group walked through the settlent, they stumbled upon a heated argunt between a man and a woman near a small food stall.
The man, clearly annoyed, crossed his arms and said, "I’m not going with you. I stayed up all night, I’m exhausted."
The woman, visibly frustrated, shot back, "Seriously? You’re that tired that you can’t even walk with for a bit? Just admit you don’t care!"
The man sighed, ready to defend himself further, until his eyes landed on the new arrivals. His entire deanor shifted in an instant. He pointed toward them like they were his saviors and exclaid, "W-whoa, visitors! Didn’t expect that. Welco! Are you guys here to settle down in this lovely little shelter?"
The blonde man stepped forward calmly. "No. We’re just here to ask a few questions. That’s all."
Before the conversation could continue, the woman glared at the man. "Hey! Don’t try to change the subject!"
The man held up his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, I’m just being polite!" He turned back to the strangers and grinned. "Na’s Luke, by the way. And you folks are...?"
The blonde man paused before speaking. "My na is Nox."
Luke tilted his head, then gave a light chuckle. "Alright then, Nox. If it’s info you’re after, I might be able to help. What do you want to know?"
"But don’t ask for anything sensitive," Luke warned casually, his tone light but carrying a hint of seriousness.
Nox nodded silently and pulled out a slightly crumpled photograph from his coat pocket. It was a picture of a man, his face sharp, intense, and weathered by experience. He handed it to Luke.
Luke took one look at the photo and his usual laid-back expression froze, just for a split second. His eyes lingered a mont longer than necessary before he blinked and returned to his easygoing deanor. But Nox caught it, he didn’t miss the shift.
Luke cleared his throat and said, "And what exactly do you want if you et the guy in this photo?"
Nox replied calmly, "That depends on what we learn once we find him."
Luke scratched the back of his head, clearly hesitant. "Well... if that’s the case, it’s kinda hard for to say anything."
Nox’s gaze sharpened. "So you do know where he is?"
"I didn’t say that," Luke answered quickly. "I haven’t seen him in a long ti."
Just then, a woman approached them. Her arms were crossed, and her tone was sharper than Luke’s. "If you’re planning to ss with the man in that photo... you better drop it," she said. "That guy’s a monster. He’ll skin you alive if you piss him off."
She grabbed Luke by the collar and started pulling him away. "Let’s go. We’re not getting involved in this crap."
Nox watched them go, his expression calm, yet satisfied. "So he was here," he murmured. "That alone is useful enough."
He turned slightly, as if to thank them, but Luke and the woman, were already vanishing into the crowd, Luke being dragged away while protesting half-heartedly.
We return to Julian, now standing in a dirt ring, wearing a ridiculous sumo outfit that barely fit his fra. Across from him, another man stood firm, clearly a professional in the art of sumo, his posture poised and his expression serious. The tension between them felt... theatrical.
From the sidelines, Rayden held a microphone fashioned from scrap tech and enthusiastically announced, his voice booming through the makeshift arena.
"Alright, everyone! On the left side of the ring, we have a man who’s saved this base from the clutches of a tyrant! A man so strong, even death seed afraid of him—JULIAN!"
The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles, their excitent infectious. Among them, Julian spotted familiar faces.
Veronica lounged with one leg over the other, watching with an amused smirk, as if she were at a theater. Clarissa stood nearby, her gaze soft and affectionate, hands clasped in front of her. Emma, ever energetic, waved a flag she’d sohow made, shouting Julian’s na like a sports fan at a championship.
Aya stood next to her, awkwardly clapping and cheering only because Emma kept nudging her, And Celestia... she sighed, arms crossed, her expression deadpan as she clearly unsure how to feel about the absurdity before her.
Claus, full of youthful energy, jumped up and down from the stands, yelling, "Let’s go, Big bro! Crush him like you did the zombies!"
Julian just stood there, expression blank, as he questioned every life choice that led to this mont.
Rayden’s voice thundered once again from the sidelines, full of dramatic flair.
"And on the right side! A man of imnse legacy, forr national champion, holder of multiple tournant titles, with a record of very few losses and too many wins to count, give it up for... Takeshi ’The Boulder’ Morokuma!"
The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps. Takeshi, the sumo wrestler, stepped forward with a deep breath, his expression nostalgic as he surveyed the cheering spectators.
"Ahh... I missed this," Takeshi murmured, his deep voice laced with warmth, as though this arena, despite its makeshift look, had rekindled sothing in his soul.
Julian, still in his ridiculous sumo outfit, stared at the large man with disbelief. He was already questioning why he was even part of this absurd spectacle. His eyes trailed down to Takeshi’s pristine, still-muscular fra and clean-cut appearance.
Why the hell is this guy still that fit after an apocalypse? Did he eat protein bars during the food shortage or what...?
Before he could say anything, Rayden clapped and raised his hand again. "Alright, gentlen. Are you READY?!"
Takeshi bent slightly, entering a proper sumo stance.
Julian grumbled under his breath, shifting into what he thought was a decent stance. He’d seen a few matches before... in gas.
Rayden slashed his hand down. "GO!"
Takeshi surged forward like a mountain rolling down a hill, forceful, unstoppable.
Julian t the charge, bracing himself. Muscles tensed. Dust kicked up. The impact cracked the ring’s outer lining, and Julian slid back a few inches.
’He’s strong, really strong, But I’m stronger now’
He could feel the influence of his recent skill upgrade, the passive boost he’d gained from dominating Celestia. [Boost], a subtle but persistent increase in his physical capabilities. His body was faster, more precise. Stronger.
But even with that, Takeshi wasn’t going down easily. Julian shoved back, managing to push the sumo champion back slightly, but it was clear, the man wasn’t just about brute force.
Because sumo... wasn’t only about power.
Takeshi began shifting tactics, rotating his hips, breaking Julian’s stance, targeting his balance rather than overpowering him. Julian stumbled once, nearly stepping outside the ring.
Shit! This isn’t just a strength contest, it’s a battle of control, of rhythm, of montum!
He grit his teeth. Fine. If it’s balance you want...
Julian closed his eyes for a brief mont, centered his breath, and focused, not on matching Takeshi’s force, but on redirecting it.
Takeshi lunged again.
Julian twisted his body just enough, letting the charge slip past, then pivoted and shoved with everything he had, right into Takeshi’s side.
The champion staggered, off balance for the first ti, and Julian capitalized on it, a final push with everything he had.
With a heavy thud, Takeshi’s heel touched outside the ring.
The crowd exploded.
Rayden practically scread into the mic. "AND THE WINNER ISSSS... JULIAAAAANNNN!!"
Julian dropped to one knee, panting hard, sweat dripping from his forehead. He stared blankly for a mont, his brain trying to register what just happened.
Did I... just beat a sumo champion? In full sumo gear?
Then he stood, stumbled slightly, and reached a hand out toward Takeshi.
The large man chuckled and accepted the help, though his weight made Julian grunt from the effort. Still, with so awkward pulling, Takeshi was up.
"That... was a hell of a fight, my friend," Takeshi said with a grin. "You’ve got the spirit of a warrior."
Then, raising Julian’s hand high into the air, Takeshi declared to the crowd, "A true challenger! Honor and strength combined!"
The crowd’s cheers grew even louder.
Julian sighed deeply.
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