The Understated Legend is Back

Chapter 5: Guess who’s back?

For one strange heartbeat, the only sound inside the house was the rain striking the broken roof.

Then–

Gunfire exploded.

Three men opened fire while the others charged from different angles, believing numbers alone would bury the man standing before them.

Chay disappeared. Well, not literally.

He moved so fast that their eyes couldn't keep up.

The first volley ripped through empty air where he'd been standing a fraction of a second earlier.

“W-Where–“

A sharp crack echoed. CRACK!

One gunman collapsed before finishing the sentence. Before he knew it, Chay had reached behind him and snapped his neck in a quick, sharp twist.

His rifle never hit the ground and Chay had already caught it.

Another man lunged with a machete, repeatedly slicing it through the air without stopping.

Steel sliced through the air, but Chay fearlessly stepped inside the swing.

His elbow drove into the man's chest with frightening precision. His ribs broke into tiny fragments, piercing his organs all at the same time. In the same breath, Chay smacked the butt of that riffle across his face.

He flew sideways across the room, crashing into the television.

“There!” One of the gunmen ordered, and more shots rang out, targeted towards Chay’s legs.

But Chay, he was already floating in the air before they knew it. He flowed between the gunfire like water finding cracks in stone.

Every movement was calculated. No wasted effort. No wasted breath.

Wood splintered.

Glass burst apart.

Bullets chewed through the walls.

While they were recovering from their shock, one attacker tried to grab him from behind.

Chay seized the man's wrist, twisted sharply, and sent him crashing into another charging mercenary.

Both men instantly fell in a tangled heap.

“Arrrghhhh!”

Chay grabbed a small knife by his side and hurled it smoothly with great precision. It buried itself in the neck of another assailant.

The latter began to cough, struggling to breath as he held on to his bleeding neck, and in a second, he collapsed on the ground.

“Smooth,” Chay muttered under his breath, a small smile playing on his lips.

He quickly reached for an extra gun from one of the fallen men, and fired non stop till the bullets were out. The deafening blast echoed through the house.

At this point, only four men were left standing.

Panic began to spread.

“What the hell!” One exclaimed, retracing his steps slowly,

“He isn’t human…”

“We can’t take him down, I don’t think we can…”

They whispered to each other, their hearts pounding hard against their chest.

Jordan’s confident smile had disappeared by now. “No!” he barked. “Get up and kill him!”

But nobody listened.

Some were too busy writhing in severe, devastating pain while others were trying to save their lives for their families.

But there was one man, he was the biggest among them. He had always lived to impress Jordan and this was another chance for him to prove himself.

A rush of adrenaline filled him and he charged with an iron pipe. “Dieeeeee!”

Chay slipped past the swing with ease, sending the weapon skidding out the window. Before the man could recover, Chay seized him by the leg, lifted him clear off the floor, spun once, and flung him crashing through the same window.

“You must be very silly,” Chay muttered under his breath in mild annoyance.

“Uh!” The surviving mercenaries exclaimed, as they watched Chay lift a full-grown man, twice his size, with one hand. Their eyes almost bulged out of its socket as it widened in shock.

They finally understood.

This wasn’t a fight.

It was judgement.

“Run!”

One bolted towards the doorway, but he never made it. Chay intercepted him before he reached the threshold.

Another fell.

Then another.

Every second the room grew quieter. The shouting became whimpers. The confidence became terror.

Jordan stared in disbelief, his carefully assembled force had crumbled before his eyes.

“N-No…” his breathing quickened.

“This... this isn't possible…”

One final bodyguard remained between him and Chay.

The terrified man backed away, shaking violently.

“P-Please…”

His weapon clattered onto the floor.

“I was only following orders–“

Chay didn't answer.

Though he was dealing with the man, his eyes never left Jordan.

Jordan took one involuntary step backward. Then another. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

He had heard stories.

Stories whispered about a masked commander who ended catastrophic wars. He had laughed at them. But now, he was standing in front of him without even knowing it.

Jordan stylishly turned, in an attempt to go unnoticed, then he ran.

Suddenly, a gunshot cracked through the rain.

“Aaagh!” Pain exploded through Jordan’s leg, his scream echoing through the storm.

He hit the ground hard, sliding across the wet wooden floor. With shaking hands, he quickly snatched a fallen pistol from beside one of his men.

He spun and fired wildly.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Chay caught the wounded mercenary by the collar and pulled him into the line of fire. The bullets struck the unfortunate man instead, piercing through his back.

Jordan kept pulling the trigger without thinking, until he realized the gun was now empty.

His face drained of color. “N-No…”

Chay grabbed the gun in the man’s pocket and let the body fall.

He fired. Jordan screamed.

The pistol flew from his hand as pain tore through his injured arm Chay had just shot. Blood spread across the sleeve of his expensive charcoal suit.

Chay began to walk toward him. Slowly.

Each step echoed like a funeral drum.

Jordan dragged himself backward across the soaked ground. “S-Stay away from me!” His voice cracked.

“W-who are you?! You’re not Chay, aaarrghh,” the pain he felt from both his leg and arm at the same time was devastating, but he kept dragging himself backward.

“I said, W-Who are you?”

Chay said nothing.

“You are a monster!”

“I swear, if you kill me… my father will hunt you down!”

No response.

“John Whitney will destroy you!”

No response.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with! Do you know how powerful my father and Uncle John have become??”

Chay finally spoke. His voice was cold enough to freeze the rain itself.

“They’re next.”

Jordan swallowed. “Please, please…”

“Please, I’ll give you anything you want!…” he kept dragging himself backward. “Okay, we’re sorry. We are sorry for everything we did… please!”

Chay’s expression remained stern. He couldn’t care for any form of apology from even John Whitney himself.

When Jordan realized that his apology would work, he decided to go another route.

“You… you can’t! You can’t afford to harm me or any of us!”

“…Vivian will come for you herself!”

Vivian?

For the fist time, Chay paused. His eyes narrowed.

“…Who the hell is Vivian?”

Jordan’s face brightened with desperate hope.

“Vivian is–“

Chay exhaled. “You know what…” he interrupted. “I don’t have time for this.”

He raised the revolver and shot a bullet through his skull.

Jordan’s body fell still.

Now, it was time to save Molly.

Chay was done mourning.

It was Lumen Village's turn to mourn.

Chay threw the revolver on the ground, about to take his leave when his gaze drifted toward the phone resting on the tripod.

He walked over and grabbed the phone. “They were recording Nana while they tortured her?” His jaw tightened.

“…Bastards,” he muttered and turned off the recording.

An open conversation sat on the screen. It was Felix Jones.

Without hesitation, Chay turned the camera toward the devastated room. One by one, every fallen mercenary entered the frame.

Then he pressed ‘Send’.

Finally… the icing on the cake…

Jordan.

Chay aimed the camera at Jordan’s corpse.

And before sending the image, he typed three words,

“Guess who’s back.”

Send.