Chapter 5: Kings

Michael stood in front of Gapryong's grave, the lilies he'd bought resting on the ground. The cool breeze brushed past him, but his expression remained as cold and calculating as ever. The once formidable man, who had been a mentor of sorts, was now just a memory, yet Michael still felt the weight of an unspoken debt.

He gazed at the engraved name on the headstone, his voice low but firm. "Old man, I didn't make it to your funeral, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten the debt I owe you."

The air around him was still, as though even the wind was waiting for his words.

"I owe you one. You gave me something back then—training, wisdom. You made me stronger." His voice, calm and measured, carried a sense of finality. "And now, I'll repay that debt."

Michael took a step closer, his hands in his pockets. He looked down at the flowers resting by the grave. "I'll offer Jake one favor. Just like you helped me, I'll help him when the time comes."

For a moment, he stood there, reflecting on the past—the times Gapryong had trained him, honed his skills, and made him a better fighter. It wasn't a debt easily repaid, but Michael wasn't a man to leave things unfinished.

Turning away from the grave, he straightened his posture. "Rest easy, old man. Your son will get what he needs."

With that, Michael walked away, his cold resolve intact, knowing that someday soon, Jake Kim might come to collect on the favor he now owed.

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Leo stood in his office, his gaze fixed on the door as he waited. The call to Noah had been brief, but Leo knew his brother would waste no time. Within minutes, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, and as the door opened, four figures stepped inside.

Noah Han entered first, his presence commanding the room. Noah had undergone a transformation over the years, achieving mastery over both the Strength Threshold and the Endurance Threshold. His physique was impressive—broad shoulders, well-defined muscles, and an aura of unshakable confidence. 

But what set him apart wasn't just his physical power; it was his ability to endure anything thrown at him. His Endurance Threshold mastery allowed him to fight for hours without tiring, absorb damage that would cripple others, and keep moving forward. 

He was like an unstoppable force, a man who could weather the storm and still come out on top. His sharp eyes locked onto Leo, acknowledging his brother with a nod.

Behind Noah was Alex Lee, the walking embodiment of brute strength. Alex, having mastered the Strength Threshold, had pushed his body to its absolute limits. His towering frame seemed almost unnatural in its size and power, like a human tank ready to crush anything in his path. 

His fists were capable of smashing through concrete, and his sheer physical presence was enough to intimidate anyone who crossed his path. But Alex had grown in more than just muscle; he had gained confidence, honing his strength into a weapon that made him a terrifying adversary in battle.

Next came Jason Kim, the fastest among them, having unlocked the full potential of the Speed Threshold. Jason was lean and agile, every movement a blur of speed and precision. He moved with a quiet grace, his steps light yet purposeful, as if he could vanish in an instant and reappear behind his target. 

His speed made him unpredictable, able to strike before his enemies even realized they were in danger. He had grown comfortable with his abilities, mastering the art of using his speed not just for attacks but for evasion and strategy. His piercing gaze swept the room, always alert, always calculating.

Finally, Lucas, the youngest and most unpredictable of the group, entered. When Michael had found Lucas, the boy had been homeless, lost in the streets with no direction. But Michael had seen something in him, something that reminded him of the twins. 

Lucas had already achieved mastery of the Technique Threshold, making him a master of precision in combat. His movements were calculated, every strike landing with surgical accuracy. Though not as physically imposing as Noah or Alex, 

Lucas was quick and deadly, his technique refined to the point where he could exploit any opening in an opponent's defense. His eyes, black sclera with white irises, gave him a mysterious and unsettling presence—remnants of the Yamazaki clan power that had awakened within him. Lucas, once a wanderer, was now a sharpened weapon under Michael's guidance.

Flashback

After a brutal fight, Lucas lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious and barely breathing. Michael watched him silently, his arms crossed, observing the potential he saw in the young man who had once been homeless. Lucas was skilled, no doubt, but not enough to stand against Michael.

Suddenly, Lucas's body jerked, and his eyes snapped open, revealing something eerie—black sclera with white irises. The eyes of the Yamazaki clan. Michael's brow furrowed slightly. He had heard of this power but never expected it to emerge here. A primal energy surged from Lucas, filling the air with an oppressive force.

Without warning, Lucas launched himself at Michael, faster and fiercer than before. His movements were sharp, like a predator's, his strikes wild but deadly. Michael dodged the first flurry of attacks with ease, a calm smile tugging at his lips.

"Interesting," Michael mused, stepping aside as Lucas's fist barely grazed his cheek. He could feel the strength behind the punches, the Yamazaki bloodline truly giving Lucas a dangerous edge. But still, it wasn't enough. Not for someone like Michael.

Lucas, now fully consumed by the Yamazaki power, let out a low growl, swinging again, his fists moving with lightning speed. Michael blocked effortlessly, parrying each blow with a nonchalance that made the fight seem like a game. His calm, almost bored expression began to frustrate Lucas.

"You think this changes anything?" Michael taunted, sidestepping a fierce punch aimed at his ribs. He let Lucas come at him with everything, but it was clear—Michael was toying with him.

Lucas growled, pushing harder, his strikes becoming more erratic, yet they carried immense power. But no matter how much he threw at Michael, nothing landed cleanly. Michael's footwork was perfect, his movements fluid, as if he were dancing around Lucas's aggression. He threw in a few counterstrikes, landing light jabs and kicks that sent Lucas stumbling back without much effort.

"Is that all?" Michael asked, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. Lucas, eyes wild with the Yamazaki energy, roared and charged again, this time aiming for Michael's head with a spinning kick.

Michael caught the kick mid-air with one hand, his grip like iron. "Enough," he said coldly. In a single, effortless motion, Michael threw Lucas back with such force that he crashed into a nearby wall. Lucas slumped down, breathing heavily, the power of the Yamazaki eyes flickering and fading.

Michael walked over to him slowly, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the beaten man. "You've got potential," he said, his tone shifting to one of cold calculation. "But you need control. That power—those eyes—they'll consume you if you let them."

Lucas, barely able to stand, looked up at Michael, confused yet defiant. Despite the beating, something in him knew he had just crossed paths with someone far greater.

"Join me," Michael offered, extending a hand. "I'll teach you to master that power. You'll become something more than just a vessel for that clan's bloodline. But only if you follow me."

Lucas, beaten yet humbled, accepted the hand. He knew that this man, who had so easily toyed with him even at his strongest, was his only path forward. The Yamazaki blood had awakened something in him—but Michael was the one who would unlock its true potential.

And then there was Leo Han, standing at the center of it all. Leo had mastered both the Speed Threshold and the Technique Threshold, making him a force to be reckoned with in his own right. His movements were a perfect blend of speed and precision, allowing him to outmaneuver and outsmart opponents with ease. 

He wasn't the strongest, nor the fastest, but his combination of skills made him a tactical genius on the battlefield. 

Every move he made was deliberate, every strike calculated to exploit his enemies' weaknesses. He had become the strategist of the group, always thinking several steps ahead.

Leo surveyed the group before him. These weren't just fighters—they were elite, each having unlocked their full potential in their own way. Together, they were unstoppable.

"Noah, Alex, Jason, Lucas," Leo began, his voice steady and authoritative. "We're moving forward with the next phase of the boss's plan. Get ready—we're going to Cheonliang soon, and I expect nothing less than total success."

The room was silent for a moment, each member processing Leo's words. Then, one by one, they nodded, each ready for the task at hand.

This was no ordinary team; this was Michael's elite, and they were ready for whatever came next.