Daemon's Play (2)

The battle-torn courtyard was eerily silent. The once-pounding rhythm of violence was replaced by the sound of Daemon's slow, steady breaths, as he surveyed the wreckage. Bodies of mercenaries and Beast Killers littered the ground around him, the only movement coming from the scattered debris blowing in the wind. For Daemon, it had been just another day—another chance to show why he was the force to be reckoned with.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, smirking at the carnage. "Man, that felt fucking good," he muttered to himself, kicking a discarded weapon out of his way. But then, as he was about to walk off, a slow clap rang through the air.

Daemon stopped, his hand instinctively going to the revolver at his side. He turned around, narrowing his eyes. The sound came again—clap, clap, clap—and Daemon's gaze locked onto the source.

A man in mercenary clothes, blending in perfectly with the others he had just mowed down, was standing there. He looked like any other mercenary, except for the way he stared at Daemon with a strange, amused grin on his face. There was something off about him, something that Daemon could sense.

"You're actually really strong, aren't you?" the man said, his voice casual, almost mocking.

Daemon let out a short laugh, his gaze flashing with annoyance. "Well, thank the fuck you," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He adjusted his stance, letting the words roll off his shoulders. "You act like an insolent bastard. I just wiped out your strongest squad leader, you fuckface."

The man didn't flinch. He just stood there, unbothered. "Not the strongest."

Daemon raised an eyebrow. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The man cracked his neck, a grin widening on his face. "You know what? I'll kill you, then go on with my life."

Daemon's eyes narrowed. The man wasn't the typical kind of mercenary or Beast Killer he'd come across. There was something different about him, a certain calmness that Daemon didn't quite like.

Without a word, Daemon pulled his revolver from his side and shot the man square in the chest. The shot rang out loud, the bullet cutting through the air like a missile. But when it hit the man, the bullet bounced off his skin with a soft clink—like it had hit a steel wall.

Daemon's eyes widened in surprise. "The fuck?"

Before Daemon could react, the man moved faster than he could track. In an instant, the guy had grabbed the revolver right out of Daemon's hand, effortlessly swiping it from his grasp as if it were a toy. Without a moment's hesitation, he hurled it with an almost casual flick of his wrist, sending it flying across the courtyard, landing in the middle of the road.

Daemon blinked, dumbfounded. "What the fuck?!" he muttered, his voice growing louder. "Did you just—?"

The man didn't wait for Daemon's outrage to settle. With a grin, he was already running toward the gun.

Daemon's eyes twitched in annoyance. "Oh hell no. That's my gun, you piece of shit!"

With a burst of speed, Daemon sprinted toward the gun, determined to get it back. His feet hit the ground with savage power as he tore across the courtyard, every muscle in his body working in perfect harmony, his eyes fixed on the weapon that was now just a few meters away.

But to his irritation, the man was already gaining on him.

"What the hell?!" Daemon growled, realizing the bastard was faster than him. "How the fuck is this happening?!"

The man's voice carried on the wind as he closed the distance between them. "I can get to that gun faster than you, fucker!"

Daemon's grin turned predatory as he pushed his body even harder, his legs pumping with newfound speed. He wasn't going to let this asshole get the better of him. Not a chance.

"I don't think you'll get it before me," Daemon called back, his voice full of mockery. "You're really starting to piss me off, you know that?"

But to his shock, the gun wasn't slowing down. It wasn't gaining any more distance, either. It seemed to be... stuck.

"What the hell?!" Daemon barked, his frustration growing. "Why isn't it slowing down?! That's... breaking the laws of physics, man! What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's voice answered, tinged with annoyance. "Both of us are forces of nature, and yet you're amazed by that?! That's my ability. I control gravity, and I'm the fastest in the BKOM." He grinned again, his eyes flashing with pride.

Daemon's eyes widened in disbelief. "Holy shit... you're actually gaining some distance on me? How sad!" he said sarcastically, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Gravity, huh? That's cute."

The man smirked, tightening his grip on his own weapon as he pushed himself harder. "You're not the only one who can break the laws of nature."

Daemon didn't even look back at the man. Instead, he turned his head, his gaze locked on the gun, willing himself to reach it faster. But as his speed continued to push him forward, Daemon noticed something else—something strange.

The gravity around the gun was being manipulated. The man had done something, and Daemon wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he could feel it now. The air around him seemed to hum with the pressure of the man's ability.

Daemon snarled and pulled to a stop, spinning on his heel. "Oh, you've done it now," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "You've fucking done it now, you little shit."

In a flash, Daemon was charging backward, his body moving like a goddamn blur as he ran at the man. The moment the two were face to face, Daemon's grin widened as he used his superior strength and speed to knock the man off balance.

"I don't fucking play fair," Daemon growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can mess with me, but you're just a fucking ant trying to pick a fight with a bulldozer."

The man stumbled but quickly regained his footing, eyes flashing with anger. "You're not the only one who can fight dirty, Daemon," he shot back, taking a stance, his body still brimming with the unnatural speed that had him in Daemon's tail.

Daemon was practically glowing with excitement. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he cracked his neck. "Oh, I love it when they get all tough," Daemon taunted, smirking. "But it's still not enough."

The man launched forward, faster than before, but Daemon was already moving. He sidestepped the attack with ease, pulling his fist back and sending a devastating punch straight into the man's gut, knocking the wind out of him and sending him stumbling backward.

"Is that all you've got, gravity boy?" Daemon said, his voice cocky but filled with excitement. "Come on. You can do better than that."

The man recovered, his face flushed with rage. He was fast, but Daemon was just too unpredictable, too skilled. And the harder the man fought, the more Daemon seemed to play with him.

Daemon was ready. Ready to show this cocky bastard that no amount of gravity control could stop him from being the fucking force of nature that he was.

And as the two collided again, the real battle had just begun.