Projekt Anima(OUTDATED VERSION!)

Chapter 2.1: A Novice's Grit

Raiden

Before Tristan could even withdraw his wrist back, the woman had fiercely whirled around, and he felt a sudden pain collide against his face.

He toppled down, his once pallid visage now tainted with rich dark blood. On the corner of his eye he vaguely caught a floating tag emerge out of the blue—status parameters that displayed his health bar(which was scraped by a bit), stamina bar and another one he didn't recognize at the moment. Above those blocks, he spotted his username: Raiden.

The wretched woman broke into a grin, raising her glinting fists and cracking them up on shoulder-level. Raiden noticed how she was now equipped with brass knuckles, which wasn't there a while ago when she pulled him in here.

"I wonder how many din pieces would you cost," the woman sneered, "That is, after we kill you right here."

Raiden's head had been spinning badly and he barely understood what the female had said, but he quickly knew he was in deep trouble. He had a vague feeling that she wasn't kidding about the 'killing' part. Nevertheless, he didn't yield himself to fear, nor show any sign of it.

"Is that how you live?" he spat some blood to his side. "Deceiving people to get a few 'din pieces'?" He guessed that dins were probably this fantasy world's currency, and judging from the woman's chuckle, he knew he was right.

Standing up shakily, he eyed the tiny space between the woman and the alleyway. He could trick her into useless talk, and if he was lucky enough to catch her unaware, he could head past her and dash away from here before the female could even realize what was happening.

"Thieves gotta eat ya know," she said, cracking another knuckle.

He had a bad feeling on how she said thieves instead of thief, but he ignored it and trudged slowly forward. "I'm surprised you still haven't choked from all the food you eat from your stolen loot," he said, delaying.

The female chuckled snidely. "I'd like to hear that from you after I beat your sorry ass."

"But then, you couldn't."

"Couldn't what?"

"Beat my ass." He paced a few steps forward.

"Oh, I can." The woman started advancing towards him.

He caught a slight appreciative glance from the girl, and he just hoped it was enough to distract her from his actual plan. Raiden caught her sharp gaze, and the woman met him's. The female was surprised at this unrelenting prey, not even showing any signs of fear amidst her intent of killing him.

"I don't believe it," he continued, now barely inches away from her.

"My fist would probably change your mind," she said, cracking her knuckles once again to emphasize that point.

Before Raiden could think of a better comeback, several shadows suddenly appeared behind the woman. Through gritted teeth, Raiden cursed in dismay. If he had ever thought of escaping this dreaded alleyway, he might as well forget it all now.

The three figures came into view—three gray-vested men over dirty capes who all wore a brown belt that had a dagger clipped to it. Their clothing looked shabby, but they were cleverly dressed. Upon seeing him, the three men sneered.

The woman slightly turned her head towards them. "Our prey this time is quite a handful."

"Raiden," the first guy spoke, eyeing the holographic tag that floated atop Raiden, then broke into a smirk. "A good name for a dead man."