I thought I was special. That was the only thought I could have while Vincent laid in a room a bit farther away in the dojo while I floated in the healing tank.

  I’d just saw someone like me and wanted them to have a better time than I did and now…

  I don’t know.

  The rest of the day after lunch had been… tense. Vincent seemed dazed and confused. Even the workouts seemed to have lost a small bit of fire despite us going so hard at them. I was truly starting to feel my strength as the weeks had passed, staring in shocked amazement at how strong I was but now…

  Master was talking about replacing me. I didn’t really buy that he was actually upset with me, that sounded like nonsense to me. But he wasn’t wrong though, I had lost a massive amount of respect for him after he’d nearly killed me and sent me to barely survive eating rats and gaining diseases by the truckload. He was evil, he’d killed other disciples before who’d asked for training, and he barely gave any warning before doing the same to me. It made me stronger but the price for that was, heavy. I’d nearly died over a dozen times, at least.

  So no, I didn’t truly respect Master fully anymore… but I seriously doubted that actually bothered him. If so, he’d have brought up the time I wailed on his face with my fists. I doubted a man like that was more bothered by words than actions. No, he’d just said that because I had slightly annoyed him.

  But the threat was real. All the things master did, was to create someone strong enough to get revenge for him and to accomplish their goals in the process. He was pure like that. He’d seen an opportunity in front of him to push me harder and taken it. A new disciple that if he surpassed me, he’d replace me with them. That threat was real, a way to push me harder. But… what really bothered me was…

  I thought I was special. I thought I was the only one. I thought I was an investment.

  Master had said it himself. That he didn’t really see me like that. Not fully. I was a disciple, a student, and he was the teacher. But what needed to be taught… could be taught to others. And I hadn’t realized that. I thought I was unique, special, the only one that could be trained by Master. That he literally couldn’t replace me. Otherwise, why save me? Why go through all this?

  I’d been wrong. I was rare, but not unique. I was uncommon, but not special. I was just another person and Master only wanted someone that could complete their goal. Two people, same goal, each with the same potential? Even if I hadn’t reached out to Vincent, master probably would have roped him into this… rivalry sooner or later. How could he possibly ignore it?

  He was practically my living mirror.

  And unlike me, who’d wasted away for years, Vega was fresh in his mind. He’d push harder than me, he’d go further than me, he’d do more. Any amount of strength he got wouldn’t be enough. He didn’t need to go through the sewers to realize he needed power right now to survive, to make it feel like a need, he had that right now.

  We even had the same power level.

  If I lost… Master would tell me to get lost. He only needed someone to do their best… but what if their best wasn’t good enough? Could I…

  Could I kill Vega without Master?

  I’d never thought of it before. Never considered it. I’d very vaguely considered leaving master but I knew I wouldn’t so long as things didn’t go catastrophic by the time I returned. But I’d never considered that he could be the one to abandon me. A partnership went both ways and if I was found lacking…

  So, back to the question. Could I? Could I kill Vega without his teachings? Even now, I could go to another Dojo. Other teachers. Learn and train and study with countless other people or even by myself.

  I grimaced. I could but I… wasn’t confident. Master was cold, nearly heartless, and he used that to push you all the way to the brink and past it. If I tried to find someone similar… they might really just kill me. I at least trusted Master’s methods. But I’d barely begun to learn from him. He was still preparing my body, he hadn’t even taught me how to fight yet!

  Perhaps in the future, I truly wouldn’t need master. I could get stronger without him. But it’d be slower, less efficient, and just all around worse. I’d have never gotten where I was without him and he was a treasure trove of information. Hell, what other Master would or could go as far? His words hadn’t been lost on me. He’d said he’d invented four new ways to use Ki just to put me back together.

  Could anyone else in this entire city do that? Maybe… but my knowledge, my foundation, it was still too lacking.

  So the answer… was maybe. And maybe wasn’t good enough. I needed to be sure I could kill Vega. Which meant… right now, I needed Master.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  So I couldn’t afford to lose.

  *****

  Vincent stared at the ceiling, feeling the rage threatening to explode out from in him. Not just the utter and pure rage that threatened to consume him every waking moment. But the rage from confusion.

  He didn’t understand. Too much, too much had been happening.

  He could still hear their screams. Remembered the fire. The laughter as the man floated above it all as he-

  It was only through a titanic strength of will he didn’t scream out and destroy everything around him. He wanted to. He wanted to so bad. The metal coursing through his veins demanded he break the world, his body tensed so hard that he thought he’d shatter first.

  They were dead. His family, his home, all of it. It was dead. Killed! By that man! That King!

  Vega.

  Slowly, he resisted the urge to destroy. He wanted to, so, so much. But the words of his grandfather still rung stronger than anything else. His grandfather’s dying words.

  “You must control yourself Vincent. You must. Don’t become like Vega.”

  And then he’d died. The explosion… it had torn him apart right in front of him. He’d awoken in a healing chamber and immediately disregarded his grandfather’s words, only to be broken apart by that damn Smile company and shoved right back into the tank, over and over again.

  Until the rage had given way to despair. Till he had cried and mourned and screamed and screamed in that stupid awful liquid. Till the world no longer felt real and more like a living nightmare. Like a personal hell pulled out of his worst dreams.

  But it was real. It was all too real.

  Weeks had passed and it was only through his grandfather's words that he didn’t kill anyone. He wasn’t like that monster but he understood now. The desire to kill had taken hold of him and it threatened to combine with his rage to send him ballistic. Someone had accidentally cut in line, a young woman, and he’d nearly murdered her. He was… unstable.

  But he wouldn’t become that man. Never. He was Vincent Valorious of Clan Valorious. They were all dead but he carried their dreams on his shoulders. And he knew, if they were all to come back alive and well right now, they’d only want one thing.

  Revenge.

  It darkened the soul but destroying your enemies… if you couldn’t even do that, you were not long for this world. A cruel, cruel fact he’d had seared into him by a man using his dead and dying people as the brand.

  He was the last.

  He shook off the memories. They haunted him. They hurt him. They enraged him! But they weren’t helpful.

  Today was different. He had been dropped off in this damn city with practically nothing to his name. A small pile of money, some directions, and temporary housing. That had been it. And he was expected to just… go with it. Adapt. Be normal.

  If police weren’t so strong… if it wasn’t for the words of his Grandfather…

  But none of that mattered. He’d gone to the gym, after finally realizing what he needed to do. He needed to get stronger, to push this weak body of his forward, to destroy all in his path, and finally rise up and smash down that Evil God that threatened the world. For his people, for his Clan! For their dearly departed souls, for the honor of Clan Valorious!

  And he’d received shock after shock.

  There’d been another man like himself there. Green eyes, bronze skin, black hair, human. Young, lean like himself, less athletic. He’d barely looked twice at the human, so plain was he. Till he approached him. Till he saw the look in his eyes. Till he heard those damn words.

  “I’m going to kill Vega.”

  Said with such confidence, such absolute conviction. And that look in his eyes… they were beyond him. They reminded him of a… hyena. A hungry hyena. Not just filled with rage like his, not filled with destruction, but a hunger. A desire. And that confidence… how? How did he get it?

  He’d known the moment they agreed to race towards that impossible goal…

  He’d found himself a brother. An ally, a Warrior like him. A man willing to go to incredible lengths to achieve anything. A man… who’d seen and felt Vega’s pain firsthand. Those were the eyes of hatred. Those were the same eyes he’d seen in the mirror every night.

  He’d felt and seen his power level. The same as his. Yet… he’d followed him. He’d felt something, something intense. And as he’d copied him, to try to keep up with the man that would dare try to race him towards killing that man… he’d felt it.

  Just how hard he was pushing. Vincent had his body nearly broken long before lunch but he refused to give up. And then…

  The offer from that Master.

  To become a Disciple. And his power level.

  He’d felt everything break down in that moment. He hadn’t known how far he needed to go but for him, a random man he’d met to be stronger than all three Patriarchs combined? Just… how far away was Vega? How powerful was he? What was his power level?

  And to be offered to be trained by that Master?

  He had to take it. He had to. To avenge his Clan, to avenge his people. To rid himself of this Hatred! Of this Rage! To destroy that man!

  Even if he had to surpass his new found brother in order to do so… he would.

  “Sorry Mutai but… I’m not going to lose. I can’t afford to.”

  Master’s that strong offering to help train you didn’t fall out of the sky. He would fight to the bitter end to have that sort of help. To get stronger.

  And he would destroy anyone that got in his way.

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