News spread widely on social media, so the upper-men had to undo the wrong of the ex-leader. Some leaked news claimed the big corpus would disband the Pokemen to execute a political correction, but only waited for official details for such a declaration. Aftermath of the chaotic skirmish left thoughts to everyone in the Pocket Men. Several members had already been injured, and the rest had fled the scene, disappearing into the city as ghosts. In the end, some quitted; resigned or just hung around while the party lasted.
The mercenaries remained in the hospital for days, skipped school in the crucial time of their last semester. The sect dealt with the boys' hospital fees for free, luckily; yet, they had to deal with the wraith of worried-sick parents. Indeed, the doctors knew all their names since their frequent visitation, even knew subjects the boys needed to learn to pass the last exam of the semesters. Master Phong felt a sense of responsibility from the last commotion, so he caught his eyes on the boys' studies and performance at school. Days later, the boys received tutors to make it before the exams.
At a green space located within or adjacent to a hospital facility that architectures specifically designed to provide patients, visitors, and staff with a peaceful and calming environment, Thần sat on a white bench.
"You never tell me about this unholy creature!" the ghost criticized; still shocked after the commotion. "What are you hiding?"
"I don't know!" Thần hugged his face with blurry memories of the new appearance, darker than black. The boy tried to remember the commotion that day, but failed. "What's happening to me!"
The boy noticed travelers who were passing by murmuring a discussion about him. Obviously, it posed a "common" phenomena for a lone boy just talking to himself amidst a garden with flowers, trees, fountains, and sculptures. Thần stretched the injured body with both hands hanging behind the bench, looking up at the bluish sky beyond the horizon, drowned in thoughts.
The ghost noticed the act; sat next to the host for a moment. In the beginning of dawn, mankind discovered a being of the ancients, casted by spirits of the void which sought to punish the damned. When the being casted a curse on a man, their body became one with the void, forcing it impossible for one to control or be aware of the conscious mind. Yet, one would become one with the void of many. Albeit the devastating curse, some could maneuver the power of the void at will. That power boosted those who rely on their combat abilities, such as fighters and rogues, tremendously in combat, yet they would go rogue if their emotions escalated out of hand. Therefore, the void power posed a significant hindrance for characters who rely on their skills as craftsmen or performers, as they would lose control and unable to regain consciousness. The curse also posed psychological effects on the character, causing them to feel anger and rage most of the time. The ancients tried to break the curse, yet it posed a difficult and dangerous task, requiring one to venture on a quest or seek out the able-man to lift the curse. Hence, the ancients finally found an option to the cure, lifted the curse by performing a specific ritual which perhaps they called it selecting a "class". A "class" presented special character archetypes to differentiate their characters in combat. Since the First Guardians triumphed over the war, classes became a staple of missions and campaigns as such. Special missions and campaigns relied heavily on the class system to encourage efficiency, especially with harder enemies and world events.
Each class presented its own unique set of fighting skills vital to confront missions and campaigns. Harder missions required more advanced tactics, so each class specialized further into subclasses, opening up even more skills.
The First Guardians announced a total of nine classes in total, such as: Slayer, Fighter, Gunner, Mage, Supporter, Thief, Knight, Lancer and Agent.
Take Dipsey for an example, the ghost described, the man specialized in gathering intel and assisted men in real time combat. "Agent" would match his classes and further down the line, he could opt for his next subclass as time would tell. Another prominent example, Lâm loved fighting hand-to-hand combat and inflicted his inner anger on the enemies. "Fighter" would match his class and further down the line, he could opt for his next subclass. As for An Thần, the ghost could see many potentials; but, in reality, a man could follow one class to master down the line. "Mage" fitted Thanh Thuận with his ability to cast 'Qi' on the armband; and, "Gunner" fitted Khải Minh with his accuracy on the sling-shot.
"What is Qi?" Thần questioned the ghost. "What does Qi do in combat?"
Qi (气) presented a circulating life force. Manipulating this life force could help fighters to concentrate, release and inflict more damage to enemies. However, that knowledge required in-depth studies; fortunately to Thần, the ghost knew these studies well enough to guide the boy further down the line.
Since the boy had experienced most of the combat styles, he could opt for a class to follow; otherwise, the boy could choose based on the ghost's recommendation.
"I'm not forcing you, child." The ghost sat with both hands weaving into each other since it only advised the host. "Forget me, you could choose to live a normal life as always."
Thần paused for a moment, considering his options. Remembering the first fight at a basketball court, Thần felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. Thần and the boys had been through activities of Sai Nam city, and he was eager to dive into it and explore every corner it had to offer. Moreover, Thần met a ghost who used to be a captain of the First Guardian. Albeit the vague information, the specter had become a mentor in every action the boy had made. Yet, Gomboc came along with a mysterious dark power which awed the mind, so Thần had to call for a seance about the situation as well. As the coin posed two sides, Thần experienced the bloodshed, drama and sadness of the tales of An Nam; yet, some bloomed amidst the darkness as a bright sun. Based on previous commotions, he had experienced the way of doing the deeds of each friend he met on the road; knew that each one had its own unique strengths and weaknesses. After a moment of reflection, Thần made his decision.
"I see, you choose this path-" the ghost received the selection of a class; reminded that once chosen, the boy cannot return and select a different class since it took time to master one already. "Are you sure about this?"
"You stuck with me for a reason, right?" Thần looked at the bluish sky where clouds became abstract thoughts in the mind. "Gotta do what I gotta do."
When Thần nodded, the ghost hesitated; smiled lightly as if it realized a deed and endowed an advancement mission. The boy had to reach an empty place, where no one could interfere with the ritual. Before that, the boy could freely finish the deeds in the meantime.
Traveling on the bricky pavement, Thần met his best friend, a street fighter, who stared aimlessly at the beyond on a white bench.
"Eh, fam', how's the wounds?" Lâm performed a half-handshake and sat chillingly next to his friend. "We sure have time to talk."
"No kid, bruv-" Thần joined his friend looking at the beyond, aimlessly. "What's on your mind?"
"Many-" Lâm said and exhaled with his hands massaging each other. His lips twitched as if it contained many words. "Hard to explain-"
Thần realized that he had to organize questions in a specific order. After composing a list, Thần started the conversation.
"Qi in fighting-" Thần inquired his friend about the previous fighting scenario. "Never thought you could perform as such-"
"No joke-" Lâm laughed slightly, talking about the training he experienced in the past. Obviously, Thần and Lâm befriended and visited each other's house since childhood. Therefore, the boy had to realize his friend's stigma in practicing Qi in the past. Yet, perhaps school posed many works, Thần might forget his friend had to leave school early and come to the dojo. They hardly ever had a chance to actually chill in such a place only if the dojo gave no routine to Lâm. "Yea, 'been practicing 'that', but ain't so complete, you see."
"About me in the last fight-" Thần noted his friend with the transformation which blurred in the memories. "How did I do?"
"You don't remember?" Lâm stuttered as if his friend had impacted the head heavily. However, based on the expression, he realized that Thần seemed genuine in his request. Gazing beyond, Lâm clarified the deeds his friend had done in previous fights. However, every time he talked about it, an invisible hindrance stuck in his throat, failed to express all the meaning. "You're different."
"Different?"
"It's not you, fam'" Lâm looked at his wounded hands, abrasive and callus, and tightened his grip. "I mean, it's not 'you' you."
"Bitch, whatchu mean?" Thần demanded a clarification of the gesture. "I'm me!"
Lâm silenced as the eyes gazed beyond the horizon. Noticing the act, Thần stopped pressing forward.
"So, what now?" Thần questioned the blood-brother about his next move. "You seem serious."
"Dunno, mate-" Lâm stretched his body and leaned his back on the bench. The boys had joined and witnessed the previous fight of the Pokemen and an otherworldly ex-leader, so a vision had to occur in their minds of the upcoming event. Besides, their school would celebrate the upcoming cultural festival, where each class would showcase their talents and projects. Thần needed to prepare for that in class as well. As the body itched, Lâm was eager to train more for the next fight. "I'll be around here, so do your thing."
As the conversation ended, Thần passed a hallway where presented a quarrel between a monster tamer and his men in costumes. Before attempting to act any further, the ghost reminded that if Thần participated in the quarrel, it would trigger a side mission. Thần scrambled in thoughts for a moment, thus he decided. Using the stealth skill, the boy eavesdropped on the conversation. The monster tamer had pushed men in costumes hard lately, forcing them to battle against tough opponents, and men in costumes felt like modern slavery.
In the previous fight, Youngster Phong tried to fend off a group of violence protesters and ordered men in costumes to attack. Indeed, the costume men felt tired and drained, and refused to obey Youngster Phong's orders which led to an argument between the two.
"Why don't you obey my command?" Youngster Phong became frustrated with the costume men for not following his commands, and the men became upset with Phong for uncomprehending how tired they became. "I told you to use Thunderbolt!"
"I'm out of electrical charge!" The argument climbed to a full quarrel, with Youngster Phong screaming at the costume men as they vexed, responding with electric shocks. "Here you go, get a thunderbolt, chết tiệt (damn it) man!"
The costume men walked out of the scene, leaving the monster tamer paralyzed on the ground.
Thần recovered from the spot and helped the poor tamer up on the ground. After a moment later, the monster tamer returned to his normal state and sat on a bench, exhaling deeply. Youngster Phong opened up the story with both hands rubbing each other. The man bLâmed himself that he ought to act in the battle, yet the older kin unmatched his strength. The man wished he could become even as the older kin, brave and bold.
"Maybe, this life is not for me-," Youngster Phong gazed aimlessly at the blue sky. His eyes filled with cloudy thoughts of unsolved. "Ye' think?"
"I only show you the best of me," Thần shared his advice and previous experience in the act to the monster tamer. "All I do is do the do."
"Damn straight," Youngster Phong acknowledged, nodding continuously. "But, hey, I need you to help me with something."
Youngster Phong wanted to understand more about the frustration of the costume men, so the man needed a middle-man to cover him in the task. Indeed, Youngster Phong would reward the mercenary in a decent amount, so needed no worries. The offer stayed on the table as men sat on a bench, silently waiting for a response. Thần hesitated for a moment, looked through advice and wisdom of the past experience. A moment later, the boy concluded.
"Thank you friend," Youngster Phong expressed in approval of the mercenary, then detailed the information. "I hope ye' join 'em well."
Thần arrived at the destination where the costume men waited with second-hand smoke and beef jerky. The hospital noted the curfew to return to the room before the nocturne arrived, so the place allowed men to do their deeds. Their leader, code name Pikacho, took the mercenary on his modded fLâmboyant Exictor. Albeit the wounds, they seemed energized to ride their Excitor around the neighborhood. As usual, they conducted their business in the hood, dealing the Overdoxx to the needed. Pikacho warned the mercenary to behave wisely since they would enter a gray territory in the hood. Thần rolled a motion to behave, and so the act began.
"Hey, you chill Bulbasor-'' Pikacho called a man in a komodo green dragon suit who leaned on a graffiti wall of District 4. "Got any red candies, moronga berries, and black dog Overdoxx homes?"
"What's with your friend, G?" Bulbasor aimed at a mercenary who covered his nose behind the back. "You think I smell funny?"
"Chill, fam'" Pikacho took out a bag of muck, sharing an old school kind of lifestyle, 'OG' specifically, so the dragon suit had to give some stronger Dox berries or nuts. "My man behind huffed the shit, so he's kinda been tucking his nose for hours."
The dragon suit signaled his men wrapped the deal up to the homies. When observing the men packing their stuff, the yellow costume smirked in a phenomenal sense.
"What's so funny?" Bulbasor inquired about the yellow costume. "Talk straight, fam'"
"Your man is in the lower-grade dragon suit as well-" The yellow costume pointed to the men afar who mended their business, laughing a little bit. "Those dudes must have evolved to level 2 I guess."
"Eh, fam', look at you-" Bulbasor recovered from the lean and walked forward. The man knew a story of one of the Pokemen's dogs getting beat up badly and hospitalized in the district. "Now, you stuck with your second form and tried to talk shit?"
"Chill, lizard," the yellow costume threw a bag of huff to the dragon suit. When the dragon snorted the quality product, both of them nodded and were satisfied with the quality content. "Who are your friends over there?"
"Like what you see?" The komodo dragon suit looked at a bunch of women who dressed in purple with pink lips, saucer-like eyeglasses, and long blonde hair. They wore red gowns with two gold circlets on the chest, calling themselves Jinx. "Interesting, you see."
"How much for the skinny one?" The yellow costume pointed to a stick-figure girl who seemed to be a heavy drug addict. "With a figure like that, I pay extra."
"That one is mine," Bulbasor cleared his throat. "Come on sweetie, go somewhere else."
"Damn, the stick girl is sure fine," Thần chuckled with Pikacho. "I would pay triple for 'em skinny legs."
The dragon suit observed the mercenary; held on a second and perhaps discovered a problem on a green armband.
"Are you a snitch?" Bulbasor called out. "Ei, fam', I told you not to take a snitch in the hood."
The yellow costume explained the situation with the homies on the street, before they rounded up the corner. Indeed, both of them would become suspects of the local popo; own a big bag of drugs and possessed a beautiful stick girl as anyone else.
"Đụ má, talkin' nonsense, fam'," Bulbasor and his men rounded up the vehicles of the yellow costume men. "Snitch ain't a hit here, nói là Lâm (talk the talk, talk the walk)."
"Đụ má, you ain't wanna kill a Pokemen-" Pikacho reacted to ease the situation when both sides took out and pointed their weapons. "Tryin' to make peace here."
The tension escalated while eyes gouged with deadly intent.
"Freeze, bitch!" Bulbasor dropped his weapon when the stick girl put a weapon behind his back. "Tell your men to back down."
"Chết tiệt, man-" the yellow costume told his men to act accordingly when men dropped their weapons. "Take that gay-ass komodo outta hood, init."
Pikacho and the men called a backup Hondo Civil to the scene. Thần seated at shotgun, navigating the boys to a designated location. The cuffed Bulbasor seated behind, looked at his girl, unease.
"Good job, agent Lee Lee-" The driver, Pikacho, commenced the successful mission, and indeed, applauded an undercover agent behind him. "The hood is safe again because of you."
Thần expressed a surprised face with Pikacho, turned around and looked at the drug addict, skinny girl. Moreover, when the girl took off the fake wig, Thần was stunned for a moment, perhaps confused.
"Wait, what?" Bulbasor was even more surprised than the mercenary. "You're a trap?"
"Cosplay, homes-"Agent Lee disrobed his bra and cleaned his other womanly features. "Good to be back."
Thần, still perplexed with the commotion, looked at the driver, the cuffed komodo and the trap boy consecutively. The driver explained that agent Lee Lee presented a middleman between the Pokemen and other groups in the district. Lee worked for many sides, Pikacho released the gray smoke out of the window, and at that moment, the man decided to help the Pokemen clean up some shady distributors. Thần understood a part, yet his mind tickled an unanswered question as he gazed at the poor, cuffed komodo.
"I should have had sex before marriage-" Bulbasor shook his head multiple times while tears rolled on his cheek. The unease komodo slid his buttocks far away from the man in conjunction, specifically, as far as he could. "Please kill me."
Thần seemed to clarify one part of the unanswered question from the cuffed komodo as he realized the gesture of Bulbasor. Yet, the mind rolled for a motion to ask the man in conjunction. In a fracture of seconds, the mind finalized its thoughts.
"Do what I have to do-" Agent Lee cleared his throat uncomfortably; looked out the window to avoid the gaze of the mercenary. "Do not question me."
"You look more meaty now, ei?" Bulbasor responded to the trap boy. "Instead of 'in' you."
Agent Lee frowned, turned to the cuffed Bulbasor and started to beat him. Thần intervened by crawling down the back seat to stop the abuse of his 'ex-girlfriend'. The boys finally reached a port where they handed their business to the local popo. While waiting for the paperwork, Thần enjoyed winds blowing the smell of fresh salt and stinks from water pollution and marine debris; and, as the wind ushered the smell of second hand smoke, he approached the driver who squatted with his beef jerky and gray smoke.
"Whatchu want?" Pikacho enjoyed his smoky joint and offered. "Want some?"
Thần shook his head while organizing his thoughts about many, yet he knew that questions had to occur in an order.
"Youngster Phong and you-" Thần confronted while denying the coming smoke out of his face. "What happened?"
"Ah, you know-" Pikacho nodded multiple times with his joint burning out of fire. Realizing the fact, he, then, lit his joint again; inhaled; held for a few seconds and exhaled relaxingly. "Story is long, but I will make it short."
Pikacho lived his childhood toward the university. His parents worked for a top company in tech for years, and they wanted him to finish university. Pikacho said the relationship seemed toxic since they tended to push him toward an I.T job. Parents wanted him to work toward a career, but started big, such as achieving good grades in high school. Yet, gods be damned, the man studied in an elite high school and still failed on his favorite subject, chemistry. Pikacho planned on becoming a chemist. The entering year of high school went great, but soon classes became more heavy and difficult. The man had tried studying harder, but failed to solve the problem. Scores went bad from one subject, gradually to all. Parents were disappointed, the man confided, as feelings turned into a burden.
"I never thought of skipping class-" Pikacho exhaled the smoky gray. "But, it feels awesome, you know."
Thần nodded silently as the wind blew smoky gray to the coast. The boys oversaw the heart of a port laid on its waterfront, a dynamic space where towering cranes gracefully hoist containers, while cargo ships maneuver with accuracy. The air replenished with the industrial sounds of machinery; the bustle of dockworkers and the occasional horn of departing vessels. District 4 seemed special since the waterfront displayed a visual spectacle, where the incessant flow of goods and commodities painted a vivid tapestry.
Booom!
A loud explosion interrupted the peaceful atmosphere.
Men from the other group flooded the place to rescue and escort their leader to the safe haven. Albeit the strenuous attempt of the popo in place, the boys had to do their job once more. The ghost guided Thần to quickly take the nearest vehicle to pursue the subject. Yet, Thần never rode such a vehicle before since he pedaled to school and such.
"I guide you, child-" The ghost urged the boy to take the ride. "Just like riding a bicycle."
The specter introduced the fundamentals of how to ride a motorcycle. The boy had to comprehend the controls, including the throttle, brakes, gears, and indicators. However, since the situation seemed rushed, Thần had to start the engine fast and locate essential components like the fuel tank, ignition, and horn. Compared to a bicycle, the Exicitor situated the throttle on the right handlebar controls the speed. The right hand could grasp the front brake lever; and, the right foot could pedal the rear brake on the side of the footrest. As adrenaline rushed in the blood, Thần could feel the heartbeat racing as he revved the engine of the Excitor, the adrenaline-pumping laid on the road.
"Try to hit number 3-" The specter guided the boy to shift the gear. "It would give proper speed and balance."
The Exictor consisted of a manual transmission, so the boy had to learn how to shift gears smoothly. Normally, the boy had to shift up by lifting the gear lever with your left foot and shift down by pressing it down. With a determined glint in his eyes, Thần shifted the gear to number 3; nimbly maneuvered through the bustling city streets, dodging traffic and narrowly avoiding collisions. The siren blared in the distance, backup was coming. The ghost reminded that to balance on the motorcycle, the boy had to keep his feet on the footrests. Use his body to lean into turns, maintaining a proper riding position. Moreover, Thần needed to utilize the handlebars to steer, applying gentle and steady inputs.
"Fam', what's the news?" the hidden telecom voiced. "News sayin' that a mad lad runnin' wild on the street."
"Init fam'-" Thần revved; counterleaned a sharp corner as bystanders fled to both sides of the road. "Whatchu got."
"Never miss the fun, ain't ya-" the telecom voiced with the chuckling. "Will do my best then."
As the chase intensified, Thần showcased the power and agility, cutting through tight corners and darting between running vehicles. With insights from the telecom, Thần started to close the distance, allowing him to gain ground on the fleeing target. The pounding of their heart matched the beat of the city as they closed in on their objective. The fleeing target realized the danger; threw random objects at the chaser, attempting to cause a hindrance. Suddenly, a white powder hit the chaser, causing him to lose track slightly. Fortunately, Thần could stabilize the vehicle using natural balance, yet failed to cough out some of the whiteness. Thần felt a weird sensation hit the body as the white perforated in the inner flesh. His pupils dilated; felt his left stroke started going viral and right stroke gonna put everything in a spiral. Number 4, Thần liked to hit the engine on a high note; when it leveled, only he knew that everyone needed to sit down.
Vroommm-vroom!
The motorcycle stood on one wheel, approaching forward at high speed.
Men approached the chaser, trying to block the path. A man swung a clench.
Vroom-vroom-vroom-vroom!
The chaser dodged and seated him down the road. Another man swung a baton.
Vroom-vroom-Vroom-vroom!
The chaser evaded and seated him down the road.
"Shit!" the fleeing target turned around; his eyes depicted an insane, relentless pursuer. "You gotta be mad!"
Thần cornered the target, forcing it to halt. With a never-give-in grin, the fleeing target dismounted its motorcycle and ran into a narrow alley, Thần kicked into overdrive with his instinct while Pikacho finally caught up. Without a hesitation, Pikacho splitted path as they swiftly ran into the tight space, deftly jumping out the confined pathway. Footsteps echoed off the surrounding walls, amplifying the intensity of the chase. The alley of District 4 posed a labyrinth of obstacles, with debris scattered along the path and tight busty market requiring sharp reflexes. Unflinched, the dexterity and agility of An Thần prevailed, evading the obstacles with his ultra light boots. Unwavering, Pikacho weaved through the maze, yet lost Thần out of sight. The flickering sunlights above cast dramatic shadows, urgency demanded.
As the corner ended with a wall, Pikacho caught up with the target. Both breathed short. Desperation grew in the fleeing target as he knew the end was nigh.
"Fuck you and your Poke-assholes-" Bulbasor gathered his energy and prepared the fighting stance. "Your wholesale price is shit!"
"Chết tiệt man-" Pikacho took out his joint and burnt it hot. "I guess it's the only way."
The menacing aura raised in the atmosphere as the classic battle between Bulbasor and Pikacho commenced. The field crackled with energy as those two iconic costume men confronted, each showcased to prove their strength. Bulbasor, with its environmentally friendly typing, stood tall with its vibrant green costume and a budding-plant bag pack, eager to unleash its arsenal of nature-based attacks. Pikacho, the electric yellow costume man, exuded an air of determination, holding a duo electric shocker crackling with electric energy in front of his cheeks. Both began with a plethora of quick movements. Pikacho darted around the battlefield, using speed as an advantage, while Bulbasor fortified himself, using his sturdy legs to withstand Pikacho's agile punches. Sparks zapped as Pikacho used Thunderbolt, each bolt expertly dodged by Bulbasor's nimble footwork.
Bulbasor retaliated with a powerful vine-like whip, lashing out the vines with precision. Pikacho, opted for his agility, swiftly evaded the attack, narrowly avoiding the ensnare. Unfazed, Pikacho countered with a surprised Thunderbolt, illuminating the dark alley with his electrifying power as bystanders thought that some kids were doing firecrackers.
Undeterred, Bulbasor concentrated his hands and unleashed a Solar Beam, harnessing the energy of Qi. The bedazzling beam surged forward, aiming to engulf Pikacho in a torrent of the green. However, Pikacho quickly opted for another option; evade the devastating attack just in time, leaving a trail of scorched earth on the ground.
As the Qi ran short for both, the determination in their eyes intensified. Each displayed their unique abilities and strategies, illuminating the dark alley in colors.
The battle remained fierce, with neither men willing to give up. The outcome lied in the balance, leaving them on the edge of their breath. Regardless of the fight, it seemed clear that using the Dox enhanced the power of Bulbasor; as for Pikacho, the situation would turn worse if he failed to solve the problem. Bulbasor sent out his vine whip once more; hoped to tangle the opponent, yet, Pikacho nimbly jumped in zig-zag, dodging all the upcoming attacks. Pikacho approached hastily; delivered consecutive punches and the electrical shock to the komodo. The shock stunned and sent Bulbasor within a few meters.
"Địt mẹ man, you need to chill-" Pikacho lightened his joint; took a deep inhale and released a relaxing gray smoke. The Pokemen distributed the best wholesale price in the district, the man noted. "Watchu want now?"
"You sell me low-shit homes," Bulbasor tried to recover from the blow; short-breathed on the ground. "I ain't deal with liars."
Bulbasor, a Dox distributor with a heart of gold, had witnessed the detrimental effects of the Pokemen's product on his customers and neighbors. The once lucrative neighborhood had succumbed to low quality Dox, with customers denied to buy more from the poor concoction.
With his knowledge of the streets and the trust he had built among the locals, Bulbasor gathered valuable information about the Dox operation. He carefully planned his moves to avoid detection from the overseers of Pokemen.
Bulbasor tried to raise awareness within the market. He organized educational sessions, shedded light on the risks of consuming bad Dox and offered customer support to those struggling with using the product. Endowed with the knowledge, the community became determined to cancel the Pokemen's influence.
However, Bulbasor knew he had to strike at the source. He conducted investigations, gathered intelligence to gain the upperhand on the Dox supplies. Working day and night, he finally contacted a new supplier and tracked down their values, remaining invisible to the Pokemen's watchful eyes. Bulbasor slowly took out a stash of white substance. Albeit the white seemed similar to the Pokemen's Dox, it contained glitters and illuminated a bizarre glow.
"Do not use it!" Pikacho grasped since he recognized the white substance somewhere from the past. "I can fix it!"
"Finally, the day of breaking free arrived," The target snorted the white substance; gained his Qi to the level of urgency. "I am the shit now!"
Ooommmmm!
A source of power surged from Bulbasor, pushing nearby objects in a gap.
Pikacho grunted; withstood the unknown source of power, and covering an eye from the blinded lights, he approached Bulbasor step by step.
"You can't stop me now!" Bulbasor spoke in a powerful voice as his eyes glowed in greenish. "This is the best Dox I ever had!"
Wang!
Solar Beam dazzled in a straight line, faster than the previous one.
"Bitch, y'all crazy!" Pikacho dodged the attack and checked on the electrical shocker. "Someone is play'in with us!"
Wang!
Solar Beam traced in a zig-zag line, faster than the previous one which forced the opponent to dart around the battlefield, using speed as an advantage. Bulbasor knew that, so he tracked down the fast boy with his beam. Pikacho jumped back and forth in sweat, trying to avoid the deadly beam, yet the beam exploited a vulnerability in mid air, zapping Pikacho down with his nimble footwork.
"Give up, low-tier shit-" Bulbasor approached; imbued his whiplash with Qi. "You will be an EOL (end of line) product soon."
Boom!
A thunderbolt struck, yet failed to inflict pain since Bulbasor immunized to electrical shock with his grass-type clothes.
"You can run, but you can't hide!" Bulbasor recovered from the cheap shot from the fleeing enemy; scanned the area and scourged for the prey. "I am the shit now!"
Pikacho somewhere held his breath; tried to devise a plan in the jeopardy situation. As the mind busied with the plan, he remembered the days of skipping classes, oversleeping the alarm. Some days, perhaps rainy, Pikacho felt just staying in bed, eating or doing nothing. If the man did get out of his blanket, it meant just to play video games. Pikacho started showing off his ranking on a MOBA game, chuckling with the result. However, the mind knew games only entertained it for a short period for a temporary denial. The man knew he never deserved a depression since the unreal expectation of the parents, a genius family. He used to do great in school, but the denial caused the depression to overflow. Thus, people said one could entertain with a method called Overdox. Pikacho found it amusing since the method posed only for Qi users; yet, one day, he found out the body could adapt to it. Overdox became an option to snowball depression, so the man had to make some cash to access. Since parents cared less and went more on business trips, Pikacho had time to do work in a convenience store. However, demand seemed to raise more as grades started to drop dramatically and more upcoming calls from parents.
At that time Pikacho failed to find a way out, yet when gazed at a green armband of the mercenary. He knew that The Pokemen had reached out to him.
Wanng!
Solar Beam successfully traced the hiding spot, hit the opponent from behind. Pikacho grunted as the body screamed in pain. Quickly, the man hoped out of the vine whip and evaded the devastating attack just in time, leaving a trail of scorched earth on the ground. While dodging the upcoming attacks, over and over again Pikacho asked himself if he could get out of the loop; but, the mind could never pinpoint the answer. He remembered a day, frustrated and angry, the man took out a small zip lock of the Overdox, stared at the substance for a while. Some would suggest just leaving home and getting a job, but one of the leaders, Youngster Phong, gave him an option to get into a routine.
The boss was right, Pikacho grunted after a lash of the vine whip impacted and sent him a few meters, they did the do and got fresh Dox. The man started working for the group as a supervisor of designated districts. Some days, wacky events happened, men had to mend their business, lethal and non-lethal; but, all wanted them to die, but again, it got Pikacho out of bed daily as he knew new events would happen and entertain the mind. Soon the man went to the gym; hung out with the homes and stayed in a temporary designated residence for many years since he left school.
"Nobody gonna come-" As Bulbasor whipped his vine lash as a last warning, he concentrated his hands and unleashed a Solar Beam, harnessing the energy of Qi. "Ready to die?"
"Maybe, that would be it!" Pikacho, scattered and damaged, took out his joint, shakingly inhaled the damned good and released the gray. "Pretty good, so far."
Wang!
The bedazzling beam surged forward, aiming to engulf Pikacho in a torrent of the green. Pikacho closed his eyes, reminded himself that he managed a whole distributor section of the Pokemen. He worked hard. He made decent money. Perhaps, Pikacho ought to return to school to graduate with a high school degree, but he tended to wait for the right time - to reunite with his parents, or at least talk to them.
Boom!
A heavy impact interrupted the explosion.
Pikacho still felt his heart beating as the eyes slowly opened to describe the situation in front. He saw a familiar figure of a man, the boss himself, with a guard shield. After the interrupter threw away the scorned shield, Bulbasor confronted; laughed in contempt while commanding his arriving men to commence the battle. Both sides, thus, screamed and charged towards the dark alley. The Pokemen clashed in a chaotic skirmish that would be whispered about in District 4.
The Bulbasor syndicate, known for their knowledge and mindful operations, moved with calculated precision, while the Pokemen, famed for their network, emanated an aura of wealth and fortune.
Shattering the silence, men hit back and forth. Chaos erupted as bullets rang in the air, aiming at their targets with lethal precision. The alley turned into a labyrinth of ducking bodies, desperate to evade the onslaught of gunfire and Qi. Trash cans, crates, and anything that offered cover became natural barricades in this urban battlefield. When Pikacho asked how the boss found him in such a commotion, the boss said that he knew the situation after the mercenary informed the news. The debate occurred when Gym Leaders insisted on coming to the battlefield. Yet, wounds failed to heal fast and Youngster Phong knew most of them could underperform at the scene; moreover, it would cause lives if the mission failed to conduct carefully. Since the mercenary only informed the man in full-detail first hand, he insisted on keeping the rest of the news a secret.
"I'm sorry, boss-" Pikacho inhaled the last of the joint and released the gray; chuckled and coughed at the same time. "Looks like no more Thunderbolt now."
"Hey, stay with me-" Youngster Phong leaned Pikacho on a hidden wall afar; grabbed the wounded hands tightly. "We're gonna catch 'em all."
"No, no-" Pikacho waved his hand in disagreement. Pikacho cared less about progressing since he felt living as a pack. Yet, the situation escalated lately with more work to conduct, especially with the previous situation. Men never thought the Pokemen would experience a day as such where a revered leader of all became rouge and oblivious. The experience shocked Pikacho and the men; and, with the criticism of Youngster Phong, the frustration exploded. "I'm sorry for the things I did wrong."
"No, fam'-" Youngster Phong took out a pack of fresh joints to Pikacho. "Rest assured, we will fix this."
Explosions erupted as the warring factions unleashed Qi concentration bursts and homemade grenades between. The acrid smell of gray and burning black mingled with the metallic scent of red. Amidst the chaos, fierce shouts and curses intermingled with sounds of blasting energy and raw firepower.
Both sides fought with unwavering determination, exchanging energy blasts, fists meeting jaws, and knives finding their flesh. The alley became a mosaic of intense hand-to-hand combat, as the men engaged deeper in the second half of the clock. The air filled with the boosted bass of grunts, gunshots, and the shattering of glass as men fought to conquer.
Suddenly, Bulbasor wailed in the distance since the end had to meet. The senses of men heightened, their focus shifting from each other to the overwhelming power of Bulbasor. Realizing the risk of failure, Youngster Phong commanded men to disengage from the fearful boss, backing out the alley, letting the man handle the 'hot mess'.
"Fight me, coward!" Bulbasor mocked the opponent; concentrated Qi to the maximum. "I will beat yo' ass good!"
"Don't mess with me-" Youngster Phong clenched his fist and surged. "And don't fuck with my homes!"
With a confident command, Youngster Phong commanded a man in the red costume, calling him Chorizo.
Chorizo, a majestic fire-type Pokemen, spread his wings wide, casting an intimidating shadow over the field. With a deafening roar, Chorizo ran on the battlefield, flames flickering from his flamethrower. The hose unleashed the fire, aiming to engulf Bulbasor in a torrent of fire. Nevertheless, the agile Bulbasor swiftly retreated, dodging the flames with a burst of speed.
Bulbasor agilely sidestepped the incoming ember, vines snaking out to strike back. The vines whipped through the air with precision, trying to immobilize the red costume man.
Sensing the imminent danger, Youngster Phong commanded Chorizo to soar on the ground, leaving trails of flames in his wake. He then charged with astounding speed, aiming to deliver a devastating Dragon Claw attack. However, Bulbasor, relying on his quick reflexes, seemingly sidestepped the ferocious assault. Bulbasor retaliated by whipping vines forward, unleashing a barrage of razor-sharp weeds toward Chorizo. The leaves sliced the air, determined to strike the fiery fire monster. However, Chorizo quickly evaded the projectiles with a well-timed wing flap, displaying his remarkable agility.
Bulbasor keenly unleashed a volley of tiny seeds, each carrying the potential to sap its opponent's energy. The seeds latched onto the skin of Chorizo, draining his Qi while bolstering his own.
"New tech, low-tier bitch," Bulbasor grinned cheekily at the exhausted opponent. "Not sold separately."
"Fuck this shit-" Youngster Phong cheered the weaken red costume man to gather his strength; unleased Qi energy to shook of the tiny seeds. "I'm the shit, bitch!"
Chorizo, undeterred by the sapping leech, aiming a relentless flurry of Fire Blasts, sending big balls of intense flames toward the enemy. The resilient grass-type komodo nimbly weaved through the fiery onslaught, evading direct hits and retaliating with counter attacks whenever possible. Yet, the battle failed to cease when Bulbasor conditioned his skin to shear steel. That enhanced toughness allowed Bulbasor to overcome the different element attack. Unwavering resilience, Youngster Phong rallied his green costume man, urging to use the final attack at full power, Solar Beam.
Summoning every bit of energy, the green man costume glowed with an intense Qi radiance. A huge beam erupted forth, engulfing the scene with blinding light. The force of the beam reverberated, leaving men on the scene in awe.
As the dust settled, Chorizo panting, his determination unwavering. The beam showed a testament to his unwavering bond and indomitable spirit. Youngster Phong and the red costume locked eyes to the gray smoke in front, awaiting for the response of the fierce battle they had just fought.
A moment later, the smoke laughed insidiously; unleashed a beam towards the red costume. The beam hit, it was super effective which left the surprised Chorizo incapable to fight. The beam continued to hit the flabbergasted Gym Leader, it was also super effective which left the man unable to recover from the ground.
"I told you-" Bulbasor walked out from the smoke with a new appearance. His clothes expanded and transformed, the backpack blossomed into a vibrant and captivating array of petals, exuding a skunky fragrance. The once small and sprightly komodo had then evolved into the majestic Weedsor. Weedsor stood taller and more imposing, his body adorned with lush green foliage. His vines, then longer and more powerful, exuded an air of confidence. "I AM THE SHIT NOW!"
"Snob Dawg, is that you?" The transformation confused men at the scene, especially Pikacho with the wounds. Yet, he suddenly looked at the freshly smoked joints of the boss and looked back to confirm. "Đụ má, waz hannin'?"
Men saw the Gym Leader struggling to recover; so, some tried to buy time by attacking the fearsome Weedsor. Nevertheless, Weedsor whipped them out as whip-cream on a pancake; nothing could stop the approach of the awe force.
"Out of balls, trainer-" Weedsor imbued Qi to his vine whip; prepared to finish the Gym Leader with an execution. "Any last words?"
"My mission is done-" Youngster Phong lied on the floor, chuckling in a nonsensical way which the opponent failed to comprehend. "Are you forgetting something?"
Weedsor stood for a while, trying to resolve the figurative sentence of the enemy, yet his sense startled from a menacing aura afar. The eyes locked on the one who walked on ultra light boots; buckled an utility belt and a green armband. The man's eyes were glowing in purple, Weedsor described, as he walked with force on the ground. Pikacho also felt a menacing aura, yet failed to describe the difference. When the eyes saw spots of white powder on the face, Pikacho realized the approaching man would do the do.
Weedsor started to feel an intimidation exuding from the enemy; thus, he jumped in to eliminate the threat. The vine whip lashed out, but missed the target. Weedsor tried again, again, again and multiple times, his lashing vine whip failed to hit the moving target. Weedsor suddenly scanned the movement of the approaching threat in slow motion, he realized that the vine only missed the target a centimeter away. Impossible, Weedsor cried and sweated his forehead, since he failed to accept that a mere comonor could pose such an immense intimidation.
When Weedsor began to concentrate energy, a fist impacted and sent him a few meters away. Unwavering, the man recovered and lashed out more vinewhips to protect him from the approach. Gradually, the glowy purple eyes become blurred in the motions, dodging all the attack and approaching closer. Weedsor, thus, concentrated his Qi and unleashed Solar Beam. The beam whizzed through the air, striking through the approaching enemy, yet unscattered the man.
"How is this possible!" Weedsor burst an outcry and swung a fist to the enemy. "Die, low-tier shit!"
The attack missed. Both initiated a hand-to-hand combat. But the more the combat prolonged, the glow purple eyes executed a series of chain combos, impacting heavily on the Weedsor. The frenzy stopped when the enemy hit a final blow and sent the cannabis komodo afar.
Youngster Phong witnessed the scene; analyzed the situation to himself that the mercenary inhaled some of the Overdoxx in his system. An hour ago, Youngster Phong felt his voice change strangely on the phone, thus, it had to be the first time the man undertook the Doxx. Overdoxx, a powerful enhancer to Qi users, tended to contain side effects for first time users. One could say that it hit the coordination, balance, and reaction time, which might increase the risk of accidents or injuries. Some described that Doxx altered sensory perception, leading to changes in the perception of time, space, and intensity of sensory stimuli. Youngster Phong experienced those symptoms before, yet he felt strange when an ordinary mercenary could withstand such side effects. Perhaps, different people behaved differently to the Dox, Phong assumed, but nevertheless, at the moment, it helped the dire situation.
Walking to the distant enemy, the boy's fingers curled around the hilt of a nearby weapon, feeling the cold steel against his palm. The weight of the void rested upon his shoulders as Thần steady channeled his inner strength. Muscles tensed, breath held, Thần exerted force, slowly but resolutely, unsheathed the sword out of the ground. However, the ground resisted, as if a destiny clinged onto an undecided path. Albeit the mind seemed unconscious, a deeper state of mind yet proposed to Thần a path to choose. The boy would then imagine a weapon in mind; if ready, Thần would choose a class in that current state.
"I see, you choose this path-" the ghost popped out in the deeper state of mind; nodded to the selection of a class and reminded that once chosen, the boy cannot return and select a different class since it took time to master one already. "Are you sure about this?"
"And so, thee calleth me from the depth of this void-" Gomboc raised many voices, came forth with the misty purple tentacles and grasped on the boy's body. The host screamed as tentacles burned and left marks of the ancient scriptures. "We, the void, blesseth thee with this pow'r and desire, to conqu'r the w'rld with this f'rsaken blessing of the ancients.''
"How could this be!" The ghost was flabbergasted, shocked when seeing the dark entity in front. "Preposterous!"
Thần screamed as thousands of knives carved on his body. His eyes glowed a fury purple with darker than black filling the white color. A circle of the ancient scriptures ran; burned the ground with purple fire and surrounded the host. The purple fire burst; ignited stronger as the scream of the chosen one. The ghost closed its eyes; murmured teachings of the ancients with rapid hand symbols movement.
"He'd mine own calleth, the moth'rs and fath'rs of this landeth-" the specter shouted forwards.
From out of nowhere, Qi wrapped infected parts of the chosen to a band shape; sealed and forbode the ubiquitous bane. "May the thousand knowledge guideth thee to the lighteth."
The fire surged, its flame bursting high for the last time, marking the chosen one the burn of eternity - darker than black. Shockwaves exploded, hitting all subjects in the area, including the visible and the invisible. The invisible ghost limped on its ground after the shock afar, gesturing hand signs of an equilibrium symbol. It thus recited a story of a milenia, before the First Guardians assembled, a number of warriors wielded swords, while on the other hand, they wielded a shield. For a long time, 'Slayers' fought and protected this nation. However, some only wielded one weapon in their hand that they called an augmentation. Perhaps, this augmentation presented a 'blessing' on parts of their body. These body parts would fade to black, causing skins to become darker than black. As a result, 'Slayers' failed to control these 'blessed augmentation' and ultimately caused many catastrophes. Nevertheless, some proposed a way to control this bane infection of these parts - wore a casted spell band on these infectious areas - to suppress the inner demon.
Suddenly, memories of the ancient flushed the mind, Thần hugged his head and collapsed. He felt a tree of skills carved into his motor skill. Judging from this sensation, Thần performed some backstep, quick rebound and some shadow boxing. Upgraded, Thần concluded, and gripped his fist tight. Moreover, he felt a latent power endowed in his body, perhaps, that would grant additional attributes to his senses in an imminent future. The ritual ended and sent the mind back to reality where the hands were holding tightly onto its secrets and power.
"Do you feel the new power?" the ghost skimmed carefully at the host, evaluating the situation. "Seems like Qi is already following inside your body."
"Grawwwwww-" Thần started growling, eliciting an unusual act. "GRAWAWAWAWA!"
The "Graw" affected; dumbfounded everyone, including the visible and the invisible.
"What are you doing?" The specter was stunned for a moment. "Are you mad?"
"I'm doing the S.Saidan mode-" The boy replied while trying to harnish this imaginary power. "But, it's not working!"
"Stop fooling around!" the ghost slapped Thần out of his imaginary world. "We do not have time for this!"
Wang!
Weedsor whizzed a Solar Beam, yet failed to impact the enemy.
"I know you play'in with me from the first time-" Weedsor raged and shooted seeds to latch on the enemy. "DO NOT FUCK WITH ME!"
Thần quickly jumped over the spraying seeds and unsheathed a nearby sword. Since Thần obtained memories of the ancient, he knew how to concentrate Qi. The ghost demanded him to perform a skill with Qi - Specter Cut; so, Thần transferred Qi to his weapon with the ghost; delivered a powerful slash at a broad area in front. Noticing this skill could follow with a second cut, he stepped forward; called out the ghost to conduct the next hit. Finally, Thần stepped forward; slashed the final cut to end the consecutive strike with a powerful, transferred Qi. Three hits impacted Weedsor, sending him afar. Intuitively, the ghost indeed applauded after executing the moves; noted that more skills the boy would learn on the journey, but Thần would perform seemingly good at the moment.
Weedsor recovered with vines extending with a ferocious Vine Whip attack. Than, swift and agile, utilize the weapon as a shield to reduce damage taken. Thần successfully guarded the attack, so the counter force pushed back the enemy for an instant duration. The clash of Weedsor cannabis's might against Thần sword defense created a shockwave, blasting every subject in a gap. Unhindered, Thần retaliated with a precise upper slash from his memories of the ancient, aiming to strike down Weedsor. The grass type komodo, however, swiftly evaded the attack with a nimble dodge, demonstrating his remarkable agility.
Weedsor, harnessing the Qi power, shot the Solar Beam once more. The powerful beam whizzed forth, its sheer intensity threatening to overwhelm the newborn Slayer. Sensing the jeopardy, Thần thought of jumping and stabbed his sword at the enemy as he descended. The ghost noticed that falling from a high ground would increase his attack, so Thần leveraged a wall nearby and jump-stepped to gain additional height.
Clang!
The sword landed and created a shockwave at the opponent; yet, since Weedsor narrowly sidestepped, only the Slayer Leap Attack's shockwave impacted and sent him afar. Weedsor, again, recovered and shot radiant Qi energy towards the Slayer. Undeterred, Thần evaded; jumped on the air to perform multiple aerial slashes. The same as Specter Cut, the Aerial Chain Slash would apply additional slashes after the frenzy status affected the boy.
The slashes summoned a gust of wind, which sent Weedsor momentarily unbalanced. Aware of a vulnerability, the Slayer closed the gap with his remarkable, dexterity speed. His glowy purple eyes gleamed as he unleashed upward slashes at the enemy, and thus casted a wheel of airblade, knocking Weedsor backward with multi-hit damage. The upward and downward slashes only damaged the enemy Thần grabbed or surrounding enemies while each one seeking to find its mark on Weedsor's defenses. Since Weedsor casted a concentration on his skin, the ghost implied, one could say the status of Super Armor affected the enemy which the Slayer could use the grab skill. Otherwise, only a certain type of enemy Slayer could conduct such a skill. Thus, the dexterity, speed and precision tested the Weedsor's resilience.
But Weedsor, drawing strength from his hatred of the low-tierers, dug deep into his reserves. He focused on Qi and retaliated with a powerful, enhanced Solar Beam, aiming to repel the Slayer's relentless assault. The beam collided with Than's sword guard, creating a dazzling explosion that flooded the scene.
"Why are you helpin' these weak-ass bitch?" Weedsor channeled his Qi energy to unleash an outburst. "You should kill yourself... Now!"
"What I do is not important," the Slayer twirled his sword in a number-8 movement; finished off with a strong, clean cut in the air. "I just do the do."
Both thus stood their ground, their determination shining through their fatigue. As they locked eyes, a decisive blow formed between them. The clash of the costume men had pushed their limits, revealing the walk they walked.
As the clock ticked in seconds, both clashed in the dark alley. The Slayer nimbly evaded Weedsor's attacks with his dexterity footwork, anticipating its moves and finding openings. With precise sword strikes, Thần exploited the enemy's weaknesses, gradually wearing down its thick skin. Despite Weedsor's valiant efforts, fate dealt him a cruel hand, and he found himself unable to stop the Pokemen messing up his sale of low-quality weed in the hood. Looking at the last obstacle, Weedsor felt insurmountable, and his determination alone failed to overcome the deep-rooted corruption that plagued the community. As Weedsor witnessed the continued suffering and despair in his neighborhood, he felt a sense of defeat. It seemed the Pokemen hired a good mercenary to tighten the hood, spreading its toxic influence further, and it seemed to defeat all hope.
Using Specter Cut, the Slayer gained the upper hand in multiple strikes; thus, utilized his sword defense to block and deflect the Vine Whip attacks, minimizing the taken damage. With each successful parry, the Slayer gained his frenzy charges. Thần adapted his combat experience and versatility, allowing to overcome the opponent's moves. He strategically closed the distance and engaged in close-quarter combat, limiting Weedsor's ability to utilize long-range attacks effectively. Yet, Weedsor refused to surrender since he knew that perseverance posed the key to creating a lasting change. With renewed determination, he sought out the glittering Doxx of the new supplier who shared his vision of a better future. Together, they formed a syndicate of activists, educators, and community leaders, determined to tackle the bad Doxx and solve the problem. They organized educational programs, support networks to empower individuals battling bad weed distributors and provide alternatives to the low-quality weed.
As the battle intensified, the Slayer unleashed powerful sword techniques, such as the wheels of airblade. Each slashes consumed frenzy charges and unleashed devastating force upon Weedsor.
Despite the enemy's resilience and valiant attempts, the Slayer's unwavering determination and battle prowess triumphed over the fight. With a final strike, the Slayer composed a decisive blow, leaving Weedsor unable to continue the fight. In conclusion, the Slayer twirled his sword in a number-8 movement; finished off with a strong, clean cut in the air to reaffirm his unwavering courage and skill.
Weedsor limped; unconscious with marks cut on the thick skins. As the Slayer attempted to approach the defeated enemy, his sense tickled. A kin out of the blue descended, interrupted the path. Thần jumped a few steps back and gripped his arms tightly.
"At lasteth, mine own kin hast transf'rm and gain its owneth strength," the kin applauded on the newborn slayer. It, thus, grasped on the defeated enemy and reckoned. "Yet, thy pow'r is incomplete, a dram longeth'r shall i waiteth."
The Slayer suddenly realized the motive of the kin, so he charged forward with his weapons. The kin grinned in mockery and jumped out of the dark alley, leaving no trails behind. Gazing on the blues, Thần somewhat realized the situation he had to face, yet his eyes still clouded in thoughts of the upcoming events.
That day, men suffered heavy injuries from both sides. The police finally encapsulated most of the Weedsor's syndicate and investigated the rest of the roots. Agent Lee Lee, fortunately, secured the Pokemen from the investigation. The Slayer's triumph served a reminder of his heroic status. The Pokemen spread the news; remembered a lone mercenary who saved the day. Thần inspected his weapons in the aftermath, broken and frail. It seemed the boy needed a new one before ready to face new challenges and continue his journey.
After the checkup from the doctor, Thần attempted for a stroll in the garden under the orange sky. Suddenly, he met a conversation of men afar. Using his stealth skill, Thần quickly sat on a bench with random strangers; eavesdropped on the conversation.
Pikacho and the costume men settled into their solace, laughter and camaraderie wafted with smells of earthly alcoholic liquid and tantalizing meat jerky. Cold beers glisten in their hands, condensation sliding down the sides of the bottles, promising refreshment and a well-deserved respite. The spills of yellow malted liquid emphasized the conversation as they toasted to the triumph victory. Men savored each bite of the jerky since Sai Nam's authentic jerky offered one of the best, satisfying chewiness and a burst of rich flavors. Beef jerky and beer, a combination exuded the gathering, proving to be a promising and protein-packed treat.
"Boss, I'm sorry for the trouble-" Pikacho smoked the joint, casually chilled with beer and beef-jerky under the serene orange. "I will try harder next time."
Albeit the forbidden usage, men secretly smoked one joint at a time. Yet, the air still filled with the faint scent of freshly rolled joints, implementing a subtle detail of relaxation to the atmosphere. As they passed joints amongst themselves, serenity settled over the group. They inhale slowly, exhaling plumes of gray fragrant which dissolve into the orange breeze, allowing their pains and worries to disperse in the air.
"No worries-" Youngster Phong sipped his can and savored the content. "I think this is the last of us."
Time stood still in the blissful moment. Youngster Phong gazed at each man in the group who found contentment in the simplicity, bonding over shared stories and experiences. Waiting for the moment to hit, Phong announced his retreat from the Pokemen activities. Men were surprised; some stopped talking and looked at their Gym Leader. A silence occurred at an unhurried pace. The time departure drew near, a heavy mix of emotions swirled within Phong's heart. The man sat amidst the costume men - loyal companions who had become family through many trials and victories. The lips weighed heavy, impending the farewell hung in the air, casting a bittersweet shadow.
"What do you mean, boss?" Pikacho chuckled; confirmed the announcement once more. "It must be a joke right?"
"Nah, fam'-" Youngster Phong gulped on his beer. "This is my last with y'all."
The answer left the costume men confused; flabbergasted to be precise. If their Gym Leader retired from the position, nobody could replace his place.
"Y'all will go where the Pokemen goes-" Youngster Phong commented to the response. "It's time for me to depart."
Men cried that afternoon since the founder of the costume men declared to retire. Some begged Phong to stay with the group, yet he declared the final decision. Phong found solace in the shared memories which tangled through his mind. Laughter echoed in his thoughts, countless battles fought together , and the unwavering support which carried them through the toughest times.
As the orange sun bathed the ground in golden glow, men's laughter and conversation mixed harmoniously with the soothing sounds of nature. Men comforted each other after the resignation of their leader. Perhaps, they knew that the Gym Leader proposed a blissful retreat, a sacred space where men could be themselves, finding solace in the company of good friends, the satisfaction of a cold beer, the flavors of beef jerky, and the mellow relaxation provided by their joints for the last time. Youngster Phong walked out of the men to take a cold beer, thus he met a mercenary.
"Yes, good mercenary-" Youngster Phong acknowledged the presence. "Ye' want some refreshment?"
Thần nodded as he took a can and strolled with the Gym Leader. In that tranquil moment, both embraced the harmony of indulgence and camaraderie, cherishing the orange atmosphere they immersed and relishing in the walk in the garden.
"This life is not for me-" Youngster Phong reaffirmed his previous talk and looked at the conjunction. "You and I both know that."
Thần felt the demand for some responses, so his mind began to organize talks in order.
"What are you suggesting?" Thần replied. "What about the costume men?"
"They will go with the Pokemen," Youngster Phong concurred. The Gym Leader already apologized to the men for pushing them hard, and Pikacho, one of his best men, apologized for disobeying the commands. When Phong retired, Pikacho promised to work with other Gym Leaders to get the costume men to function as they could. "I put my trust in Pikacho, so no worries."
"What about you?" Thần inquired about a response. "What do you do now?"
"Back to school, fam'" Youngster Phong chuckled and gazed aimlessly at the horizon. Phong knew he could never equal his older kin in such strength and ability, thus, only returning to the ordinary life would propose the best option he could make the older kin's worry disappeared. "Get a degree, get a job, I guess."
Thần sensed a hidden question popped in the conversation, so he tried to roll a charisma motion to his speech.
"Your family-" Thần asked subtly when the charisma roll proc-ed successfully. "What do you plan about it?"
"Hmm, about that-" Youngster Phong exhaled. Perhaps, the man would try to get a part time job to support his mother. Perchance, after graduating from high school, he would give his best for a college scholarship if it seemed possible. "Maybe, law school would be my aim."
Both chuckled to the response since perhaps it would become an impossible task to such an average Phong. Hence, they strolled a little more and returned to the costume men at an unhurried pace, embracing the freedom to unwind and let their minds fly with the wind, in a moment of voiding the pressures of daily life.