"The Crimson Tide"

The swordsman didn't give him time to think. With a blur of motion, he lunged again, his blade flashing in the moonlight. Nam Gyeol barely managed to twist away, feeling the sharp wind of the passing strike brush against his cheek. His body screamed at him to run, but instinct—or perhaps something else—kept him rooted in place.

The man pressed forward, his attacks relentless. A downward slash. A sweeping arc. A quick thrust aimed straight for Nam Gyeol's chest. Each movement was precise, controlled, deadly. Nam Gyeol dodged clumsily, his grip on the katana uncertain, his balance wavering. His every defense was met with another attack, his every step backward bringing him closer to the rooftop's edge.

Below, Erin and Ryuen scrambled to find a way up. "Damn it!" Ryuen hissed. "We need to get to him—fast!"

Erin scanned the alley, her mind racing. There—a fire escape. Without hesitation, she grabbed onto the rusted metal and hauled herself up, Ryuen close behind. But she knew they wouldn't reach him in time. Nam Gyeol was alone in this fight, for now.

Above them, the mysterious swordsman continued his assault. "You hesitate," he noted, his voice smooth but edged with something almost… amused. "That will get you killed."

Nam Gyeol grit his teeth, frustration and fear boiling inside him. His arms ached under the weight of the katana, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He wasn't a warrior. He wasn't built for this.

Another strike. Faster this time. Nam Gyeol barely raised his sword in time, the impact jolting up his arms. His opponent's strength was overwhelming, pressing him down, forcing him to his knees. The swordsman leaned in, golden eyes glowing with something unreadable. "Fight back," he murmured. "Or die."

Nam Gyeol's heart thundered in his chest. The blade pressing against his own. The weight of his own weakness crushing him. His mind screamed at him to surrender—but something deeper, something raw and primal, refused.

With a sudden burst of movement, he twisted his katana and shoved upward, breaking the deadlock. The unexpected force made the swordsman step back, and Nam Gyeol used the opening to scramble to his feet. His pulse roared in his ears, adrenaline drowning out the voice of doubt in his head.

The swordsman smirked. "Good."

He attacked again, but this time, Nam Gyeol didn't just react—he countered. He sidestepped a thrust, deflecting the blade with a clumsy but effective parry. He ducked under a slash, rolling to gain distance. His movements were unpolished, desperate, but they were no longer just survival.

They were resistance.

The swordsman's smirk widened, his strikes growing sharper, more aggressive. He was testing Nam Gyeol, pushing him further, faster. The rooftop became a battlefield, steel meeting steel in a deadly dance under the cold night sky.

Then—an opening.

Nam Gyeol saw it. A flicker of vulnerability in his opponent's stance. He didn't think—he moved. With all the strength he could muster, he swung his katana straight for the swordsman's side.For a split second, he thought he had him.

But then, impossibly fast, the swordsman twisted, catching Nam Gyeol's blade against his own in a shower of sparks. With a single, powerful strike, he knocked the katana from Nam Gyeol's grip, sending it clattering across the rooftop.

Nam Gyeol froze, his breath hitching as the tip of a blade pressed against his throat.

Silence fell between them, broken only by Nam Gyeol's ragged breathing.

The swordsman tilted his head. "How Clumsy" he murmured. "Im dissapointed."

Before Nam Gyeol could react, the swordsman withdrew his blade and stepped back. He turned slightly, just as Erin and Ryuen finally reached the rooftop, weapons drawn and ready to fight.

But the swordsman merely smirked. "He'll learn," he said, his golden eyes gleaming. "If he survives."Then, in a blur, he vanished into the night, leaving Nam Gyeol gasping, trembling, and more uncertain than ever.

Erin rushed to his side. "Are you okay?"

Nam Gyeol swallowed hard, staring at the spot where the swordsman had stood. His mind spun with questions, with fear, with something dangerously close to exhilaration. Because for the first time in his life, he had fought. And he wasn't sure he wanted to stop.

Before any of them could process what had happened, the rain-slick tiles beneath their feet betrayed them. Nam Gyeol, Erin, and Ryuen lost their footing and tumbled off the rooftop, crashing into the narrow alley below. The impact sent pain jolting through their bodies. Erin, however, had the fortune of landing atop Ryuen, who groaned in protest.

As Erin scrambled to her feet, she noticed an old man standing nearby. His eyes were open, but his irises were milky white, as though he were blind. Despite the ache in her body, Erin stepped forward to apologize for their clumsy intrusion.

Before she could utter a word, the old man moved.

"BRAK!"

With startling speed, he struck out, his thin arms executing a precise Aikido maneuver. Erin barely had time to react before she was flipped over and sent sprawling onto the ground. The air was knocked from her lungs as she landed next to Nam Gyeol and Ryuen, who had barely recovered from their fall.

The two of them quickly rose, instinct taking over as they positioned themselves between Erin and the old man. Despite his frail appearance, there was something unnerving about him. His movements were eerily fluid, controlled, almost inhuman.

Nam Gyeol clenched his fists. "What the hell—?"

The old man gave no answer. He stood there, silent and unmoving, his expression blank yet unreadable. Then, without warning, he launched forward. "BAM!" Ryuen barely managed to block the first strike. The old man's strength was far greater than it should have been. His movements were refined, practiced—like a machine designed for combat.

Nam Gyeol and Ryuen exchanged a quick glance. This was no ordinary opponent.

And the fight wasn't over yet.

The alley was narrow, slick with rain, and filled with an eerie silence as the old man stood before them. His milky-white eyes betrayed no emotion, yet his stance radiated an overwhelming presence. Nam Gyeol's heart pounded in his chest. His body ached from the fall, his hands empty without his katana, and worst of all—he wasn't ready for another fight.

Ryuen, however, wasted no time. With a burst of movement, he lunged forward, fist aimed at the old man's chest. The old man barely moved—just a slight shift of his weight—and Ryuen's punch sailed past, missing by mere inches. Before Ryuen could recover, the old man countered with a lightning-fast strike to his ribs, forcing him back with a grunt.

"BAM!"

Erin moved next, using the opening to attack from the side. She aimed a precise kick at the old man's legs, but he anticipated it, sidestepping effortlessly. In a blur of motion, he grabbed Erin's arm and twisted, sending her tumbling. She hit the ground hard but rolled with the impact, quickly getting back on her feet.

"BRUK!"

Nam Gyeol barely had time to react before the old man turned toward him. The sheer pressure of his presence was suffocating. Nam Gyeol wasn't a fighter—he knew that. But his body moved anyway, fueled by adrenaline and the stubborn refusal to freeze. He threw a clumsy punch, fully aware that it wouldn't land.

It didn't. The old man deflected it with ease, his palm tapping against Nam Gyeol's wrist in a way that sent a numbing shock up his arm. In the next instant, the old man stepped forward, bringing a hand up toward Nam Gyeol's throat—A sharp whistle cut through the air.

Ryuen's foot connected with the old man's side, forcing him back just in time. Unlike Nam Gyeol, Ryuen's attacks were calculated, efficient. He moved with the fluidity of someone who had spent years honing his craft. He pressed forward, his strikes relentless. A jab. A hook. A knee aimed at the old man's midsection.

And yet—the old man met them all with equal skill. He blocked, redirected, and countered each attack with near inhuman precision. It was like watching a masterful dance, except every movement carried the potential for death.

Erin rejoined the fray, using Ryuen's attacks as a distraction to strike from behind. She aimed for pressure points—quick, efficient strikes meant to disable. But the old man reacted instantly, twisting his body in a way that sent Erin's own momentum against her. She barely managed to recover before she was forced on the defensive again.

Nam Gyeol could only watch, frustration bubbling inside him. He was useless like this. He had no weapon, no refined skill, no real experience. And yet—his fingers twitched. His body screamed at him to move, to act. Something deep inside him refused to stand idly by.

Then, he saw it.

The old man, despite his terrifying precision, was still human. And for the briefest moment, a flicker of vulnerability appeared in his stance.

Nam Gyeol didn't think—he moved.

He lunged forward, fists clenched, and swung with everything he had. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't precise—but it was unexpected. The old man had been fully focused on Ryuen and Erin, and for the first time, he miscalculated.

"CRACK!"

Nam Gyeol's punch connected with the old man's shoulder, forcing him to stagger slightly. It wasn't much—but it was enough. Ryuen seized the opening. With a feral grin, he spun and delivered a devastating roundhouse kick to the old man's temple. The impact sent their opponent skidding back, his feet barely catching traction on the rain-slicked ground.

For a brief second, silence filled the alley.

Then, the old man straightened. His head tilted slightly, as if processing what had just happened. A low chuckle escaped his lips—deep, unsettling, almost amused.

Without warning, he stepped forward again, his movements faster, deadlier. The fight wasn't over.

And now, he was done holding back. 

Rain pounded against the pavement, the cold bite of the wind cutting through their soaked clothes. The narrow alley seemed to shrink around them, trapping them with an opponent who had yet to show his true strength.

Nam Gyeol barely had time to brace himself before the old man surged forward, moving like a phantom through the downpour. Ryuen and Erin reacted instantly, their bodies launching into motion, but the old man was already on them.

Ryuen ducked low, aiming a sweep at the old man's legs, but his opponent leaped effortlessly over the strike. Midair, he twisted, his hand lashing out with a brutal strike to Ryuen's shoulder. The force sent Ryuen staggering back, barely catching himself before hitting the slick ground.

Erin was next. She feinted left before pivoting on her heel, delivering a sharp elbow toward the old man's ribs. At the last second, he shifted his weight, twisting away, his arm snaking out to grab hers. Erin felt her balance disappear as the old man yanked her forward, her momentum betraying her. But instead of crashing into the pavement, she flipped midair, using the momentum to turn her body and lash out with a kick.

It was fast—faster than before—but still not fast enough. The old man caught her ankle with alarming precision, twisting it just enough to throw her off before releasing her. She crashed into a pile of crates, the wooden splinters digging into her skin as she gritted her teeth in pain.

"CLANK!"

Nam Gyeol's breath came fast, his heartbeat erratic. He wasn't a fighter like them, but he couldn't afford to hesitate. Not now.

The old man turned toward him, his milky-white eyes locking onto Nam Gyeol's own. A flicker of something unreadable passed across his face before he rushed forward. Nam Gyeol threw a desperate punch, but the old man simply stepped aside, catching Nam Gyeol's wrist and twisting.

Pain flared up Nam Gyeol's arm, but before the old man could finish the maneuver, Ryuen was back in the fight. He slammed his knee into the old man's side, forcing him to release Nam Gyeol and pivot away. But even then, the old man barely seemed fazed. If anything, he looked… entertained.

He surged forward again, this time faster than before. Ryuen met him head-on, their blows colliding in a flurry of movement almost too fast to track. Every strike Ryuen threw was countered with equal force, every opening immediately closed. The old man moved like water—smooth, unyielding, impossibly quick.

Erin rejoined the fight, launching a calculated attack from behind. She targeted weak points, pressure points, anywhere she could disrupt his balance. The old man shifted slightly, deflecting her blows without even looking at her. He reached out mid-dodge, his fingers brushing against her wrist—and Erin felt her muscles lock up as if electricity had shot through her veins.

Pressure points. He knew them better than she did.

With one subtle touch, her arm refused to move the way she wanted it to. The brief lapse was all he needed. The old man twisted, slamming his palm against her sternum. The force sent Erin tumbling back, her body skidding across the wet pavement.

Nam Gyeol's frustration boiled over. He knew he wasn't strong enough, wasn't skilled enough—but that didn't mean he was going to stand back and watch. His body moved before he could think, a desperate, clumsy strike aimed at the old man's back.

The old man turned at the last second, catching Nam Gyeol's fist with ease. But this time—this time—Nam Gyeol didn't let up. He twisted his entire body into the attack, using the weight of the rain-soaked ground to drive his momentum.

For the first time, the old man stumbled.

Ryuen took the chance, his eyes flashing with something fierce. He rushed forward, fists striking like a relentless storm. The old man blocked most of them—but not all. A well-placed hook caught his jaw, sending him reeling for a fraction of a second.

Erin recovered, shaking off the numbing sensation in her arm. She darted forward, using Ryuen's relentless assault as cover. She feinted right, forcing the old man to turn—only for Nam Gyeol to lunge at his blind spot, tackling him with every ounce of strength he had.

The impact sent both of them crashing into the alley wall. Nam Gyeol felt the old man tense beneath him, his muscles shifting as he prepared to counter. But Erin was already moving. She struck fast, precise, targeting his nerve points once again. And this time, it worked.

The old man exhaled sharply, his body stiffening for a fraction of a second.

Silence fell over the alley, the only sound the relentless rain hammering against the ground.Nam Gyeol panted, his body aching from exertion. Erin wiped blood from her lip. Ryuen kept his stance low, ready to continue if the old man so much as twitched.For a moment, he didn't .Then—slowly—the old man pushed himself to his feet. Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating his face.

The old man wiped the blood trickling from his lip, his gaze dark and unyielding. Despite the damage he had taken, there was no hesitation in his movements as he shifted his stance. Even now, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Nam Gyeol barely had time to react before the old man surged forward. His movements were a blur, faster than before—almost desperate. His palm lashed out like a viper, striking Nam Gyeol's ribs with bone-crushing force. Pain exploded through his body, and he staggered back, coughing violently.

Ryuen moved first, a sharp jab aimed at the old man's throat. But the old man twisted at the last second, catching Ryuen's wrist and yanking him forward. A sickening crack echoed through the alley as he drove his knee into Ryuen's stomach. Ryuen's breath hitched, his body folding as he struggled to stay upright.

Erin lunged next, sweeping low in an attempt to take the old man's legs out from under him. He jumped back just in time, narrowly avoiding the strike, but she had already anticipated his movement. The moment his feet touched the ground, she was already closing in. Her fingers darted forward, pressing against a critical nerve point in his neck. The old man flinched, his movements faltering.

"AHHHHH!!!!" The three of them shouted as if defeating this old geezer was their life's goal

Nam Gyeol saw his chance. Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he pushed through, slamming his fist into the old man's gut. The force made him stagger. Ryuen followed up with a brutal elbow to the face, breaking the old man's nose with a sickening crunch. Blood spattered across the pavement.

Yet, the old man still refused to fall.

A deep growl rumbled from Erin's throat. She pivoted sharply, her leg swinging in a high arc. Her heel smashed against the old man's temple with a final, resounding crack. His body stiffened—then collapsed. His head struck the pavement, unmoving.

"BRUK!"

The three of them stood there, panting, their bodies aching. Nam Gyeol's heart pounded against his ribs. Erin's hands trembled, her breath unsteady. Ryuen wiped the sweat from his brow, his knuckles split open. And then—sirens. The wail of approaching police cars shattered the silence, flashing red and blue reflecting off the rain-slicked walls. Chinese police.

"Shit," Ryuen breathed. "These bastards don't know who made the fuss before us!"

Footsteps thundered toward them. They barely had time to process before shadows emerged at the alley's entrance—officers, shouting commands in rapid Mandarin.

"Move!" Erin barked, already sprinting toward the opposite end of the alley.

Nam Gyeol followed, his breath ragged. The pain in his ribs was a distant thing now, drowned by the sheer urgency of their escape. They weaved through the winding streets, ducking between narrow alleyways and leaping over debris. The sound of pursuit never faded.

They ran through the narrow alley, their breath ragged, their bodies screaming for rest, but there was no time to stop.

Ryuen moved like a shadow, his foot slamming against the slick pavement before he leaped, his hands gripping the rough brick wall. In one swift motion, he hauled himself up, scaling the side of the building with practiced ease.

Right behind him, Erin followed—fast, precise, effortless. Her movements were fluid, almost feline, as she vaulted over debris and used her momentum to propel herself upward. Rain poured down her face, but she didn't falter. She couldn't.

Nam Gyeol, however, took a different route. He veered off to the side, choosing not to climb like some nimble monkey. He wasn't built for that. Instead, he tore down another path, weaving through the labyrinth of alleys, his heart hammering against his ribs.

"STEP"

Behind them, the thunderous sound of footsteps echoed through the rain-soaked streets, a relentless reminder that the chase was far from over. The police were gaining. They needed to move. Faster.

And yet, amidst the storm, amidst the chaos and desperate escape, something eerie remained behind.

The old man lay motionless in the middle of the alley. His frail body sprawled across the wet pavement, the relentless downpour drenching his unmoving frame. His milky-white eyes no longer held the strange, terrifying sharpness they once did. His face, once unreadable, was now frozen in an expression so unnatural, so unsettling—a smile.

A cold, knowing smile. As if, even in death, he had won something they did not yet understand.

Meanwhile, Erin, Ryuen, and Nam Gyeol ran.

They ran. Bloodied, breathless, and alive.

-To Be Continued..