Raiyokan and the Fibonacci Sequence

Chapter 6: Don't Take Off That Mask!!

The chaotic scene unfolded, gunfire echoing with the metallic crack of bullets. Another soldier lay wounded, his leg hit, crying out for aid. The urgency of the situation pulsed in my chest, yet the awareness that acting rashly could lead to my arrest weighed on me.

I leaned against the side of a police vehicle, watching every movement. The dilemma was clear on my face, my gaze searching for a solution to the crisis. A police officer, noticing my hesitation, approached with a questioning look, wondering why I hadn't been immediately detained when I burst into the turmoil like a lightning bolt.

The criminal, hit by rifle shots, advanced toward us—a hooded figure amid the chaos. One who defied logic, resisting bullets that to him were as harmless as a breeze on the face.

Then the officer, previously rigid in his stance, yielded to the undeniable reality. His voice, now softer, carried the resignation of one accepting the inevitable.

— You are authorized to use your powers, — he said, acknowledging the disruption of balance caused by the scene.

However, his words came with a warning. The permission to employ my strength did not mean unrestricted freedom.

— But don't take off that mask!! — he warned, imposing a condition on the grant. The promise of anonymity was the boundary between permission to intervene and the consequences that could follow a revelation.

While I gained permission to use my gifts under exceptional circumstances, I was reminded that the mask was more than a disguise. It was a pact between the need to act and the desire to keep my daily life protected. The fragile balance between the two facets of my existence added an extra layer to this journey.

The criminal's eyes, hidden behind the mask, fixed on me with an intensity greater than the darkness of that night. It was impossible to discern his expression, but something in his posture and aura indicated a challenging confidence.

Determined to end the threat, I broke the sound barrier toward him, launching myself in a trajectory that sliced through the air like a blade. The dizzying speed, combined with the precision of a Raiyokan warrior, was my answer to contain that challenge. The goal was clear: a sure strike, a knockout like thunder in that tumultuous night.

— Let's see what you're made of, — I murmured, focused.

The moment was pure intensity, a confrontation between the forces I represented as Kenzo and the threat of the criminal. Silence was broken only by the sound of wind cutting my path.

In that event, I trusted my instinct and threw a fast punch, believing it would be the shortcut to victory. However, this act of confidence became a miscalculation, as my opponent, with an unshakable expression, resisted the impact as if it were made of steel.

— You think you'll stop me with a punch like that? — he mocked, fiercely resisting my attack.

His face, as resistant as an enemy I had faced in a Raiyokan dimension, defied my understanding. My punch, charged with the energy of a warrior, had no effect. Instead, my opponent responded with a simple move, an unassuming jab like a message that underestimating his skill would be my doom.

— Time to show you what a real fight is, — he said just before landing the jab.

— I'm not giving up that easily, — I replied, trying to keep my composure.

Even though he didn't put much force into the punch, the jab hit me with surgical precision, and I was engulfed by a momentary darkness.

After the knockout that sent me unconscious in the middle of the avenue, I found myself at the mercy of fate, helpless and on the brink of destruction. The scene around me faded away, giving way to a darkness stretching beyond my field of vision. Everything indicated the fight was over, but, against all odds, I was not destined to oblivion.