**Volume 2: Upper World**

  **Chapter 26: Hero**

  The courtyard was a graveyard under a dying neon sky. Rain hammered the blood lake, turning it into a rippling mirror of pink and blue—reflections of burning buildings, broken bodies, and the endless rift spitting more demons like a wound that wouldn’t close. Five hundred thousand dead floated or sank, faces frozen mid-scream. The air tasted like copper and wet ash.

  Jane moved first.

  He blurred forward—faster than before, Sky’s body moving like it weighed nothing. One hand shot out, fingers sinking into Ray’s white hair. Grip like iron. Jane yanked—hard. Ray’s head snapped down, neck straining, purple eyes wide for half a heartbeat. Then Jane *threw*.

  Ray flew backward—body tumbling through the rain, coat flapping like torn wings. He crashed through a half-collapsed billboard, metal screaming, concrete exploding outward in a spray of rebar and dust. He hit the ground rolling, skidded across bodies, stopped on one knee twenty meters away. Black blood trickled from a split lip. Burn scars from earlier still smoked faintly on his arms.

  Jane flexed his hand—fingers crackling red-black. A fireball formed in his palm—basketball-sized, swirling, heat warping the rain into steam. He cocked his arm back casual, like throwing a dodgeball.

  “Catch.”

  He threw.

  The fireball streaked—bright enough to bleach the courtyard white. It hit Ray square in the chest. Explosion roared—flames blooming outward, concrete cratering, bodies vaporized in the blast radius. Ray disappeared in fire and smoke.

  Then he stood up.

  Coat charred black, white hair singed, skin blistered and smoking—but already healing. Purple eyes glowed through the haze. He cracked his neck once. Smirk gone.

  Jane tilted his head. “What’s wrong, Ray?”

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  Ray didn’t answer.

  Jane moved again—quick, predatory. He dashed, boots splashing blood, arm snapping forward.

  **Azure Pull.**

  Somehow—Sky’s technique, twisted dark. The vacuum snapped—Ray lurched forward off-balance, coat flapping. Jane was already there—fist cocked.

  **Azure Flash.**

  Punch landed clean—blue-red energy detonating on impact. Ray flew back again—harder this time—crashing through three abandoned cars, metal twisting, glass exploding. He hit a building wall, cratering it inward, bricks raining down.

  Jane didn’t stop.

  He grabbed a chunk of rubber—torn tire from one of the wrecks—spun it once like a discus. Mid-air, his other hand flashed.

  **Dismantle.**

  The rubber shredded—cut into fifty jagged pieces, edges glowing red-black. They flew like shrapnel—every piece homing on Ray.

  Ray raised his good arm—rift energy flared. Portals opened around him—tiny, precise—swallowing most of the rubber shards. But five got through. They punched into his chest, shoulder, thigh—black blood sprayed. Ray grunted, dropped to one knee.

  Jane backed up slow—watching. Smiling.

  Ray looked up—purple eyes meeting red.

  Then Ray spoke—voice low, calm, almost sad.

  “Next time we meet, my friend.”

  He kicked—boot slamming ground, rift energy exploding outward. Shockwave knocked Jane back twenty meters—boots sliding through blood, arms windmilling for balance.

  Ray stood—opened a portal behind him—pink-blue swirl, stable, deep. He stepped through without looking back. The rift snapped shut—gone.

  Silence—except for rain and distant demon howls.

  Jane stood there a second—rain running down his face, Sky’s torn hoodie clinging cold. Then he laughed—low at first, then louder, rolling across the dead courtyard.

  He didn’t give Sky’s body back.

  He raised both hands—red-black energy coiling. A fireball formed—slow, deliberate. Bigger than a car. Bigger than a house. Flames roared, heat warping the air, rain evaporating before it touched the surface. The thing pulsed—alive, hungry.

  Jane looked at it—grinned.

  “You see?” he said—to the empty air, to Sky inside, to no one. “I told you. You can’t be a hero, Sky.”

  He hurled it.

  The fireball streaked—bright enough to turn night into day. It hit the far end of the courtyard—where a small cluster of survivors had been hiding. Explosion bloomed—white-hot, deafening. Buildings collapsed inward, concrete vaporized, bodies turned to ash in an instant. The shockwave rolled outward—knocking Jane back a step, but he just laughed harder.

  Then he turned—casual, strolling through the carnage like it was a park.

  A woman—civilian, mid-thirties, clutching a crying kid—stumbled into his path. She froze. Eyes wide. Kid buried his face in her leg.

  Jane stopped. Tilted his head. Raised one hand—red-black energy coiling again.

  Before the fireball could form—

  A sword flashed.

  **Mist Sword**—gray vapor trailing—blocked Jane’s path. The blade hummed, edge so sharp it cut raindrops in half.

  Mara stood there—coat shredded, void eye glowing, remaining eye hard. Black veins crawled higher up his neck. Yami no Ken rested in his grip—drinking light.

  Jane smiled—slow, delighted.

  Mara kicked—boot to Jane’s chest. Perfect, precise. Jane flew back—hard—crashing through a ruined storefront, glass exploding, shelves collapsing.

  Mara stepped forward—sword raised.

  The strongest in history vs the strongest in the modern era.

  Jane pushed himself up—glass crunching under his palms, blood dripping from Sky’s split lip. He cracked his neck once. Grinned wider.

  “Let’s dance, hunter.”

  The chapter ended.

  To be continued…