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Huff… huff… huff…
Heavy breaths echoed through the stormy air. Thunder cracked. Somewhere in the distance, thugs shouted violently. A little girl trembled in fear.
Jane crawled into a cardboard box—one she had built herself.
Thug: "Run!! The cops are coming!!"
She curled up in a corner, frozen.
Thump thump thump.
The footsteps rushed past, making her heart skip a beat. Once the sound faded, Jane peeked out, then opened her bag. Her face lit up.
Jane: "Ha! Thank goodness… the moldy bread is still here."
She giggled softly, nibbling the old piece of bread. Her tail swayed gently behind her. Jane was a mouse therian—a rare bloodline that made her look like a long-tailed rodent. Small mouse ears, smooth pale skin, and large glimmering eyes.
She chewed slowly, then placed the leftover bread into a hidden hole she used to store food—instinct from her animal side. After that, she pulled down the stick propping up the wooden plank above, sealing her little cardboard home.
The rain poured. Her clothes were soaked. She shivered.
BOOM.
The thunder made her yelp.
Jane: "It's cold… I'm scared… What should I do tomorrow…?"
She whispered to herself, voice trembling, then gradually drifted into sleep.
When she woke the next morning, Jane pushed the plank back up, took a bit of her hidden food, ate, then set out. The area she lived in was plagued with crime. The police had long given up, and powerful gangs ruled the streets. The government ignored it—less chaos meant easier trafficking and fewer eyes.
She ran to the noodle shop she sometimes helped out at. By noon, she was rewarded with a stale baguette. Then she moved to the construction site, doing odd tasks for small coins. In the evening, she walked carefully, avoiding thugs. At night, she'd return home.
That was the routine.
But today… something changed.
While heading back, Jane brushed slightly against a group of thugs. In their twisted minds, this was a form of insult.
They grabbed her. She begged, but they dragged her into an abandoned warehouse.
They beat her mercilessly.
They enjoyed tormenting the weak.
Suddenly—
CRASH!!
The door swung open—not because of force, but from a precise push on the weak latch. A sharp click echoed. The thugs froze.
A soaking-wet boy with messy hair and a heavy coat stood in the doorway, dim hallway light behind him.
Boy: Picking on a little girl… Is that because you can't win a fair game?
Thug 1: What the hell?! Who are you?!
Boy (shrugging): Someone you should be scared of... if you've still got brains.
Thug 1 charged, throwing a wild hook.
Bliko didn't flinch. He simply tilted his head, half a second early—calculating the angle and force. He flicked his finger against the thug's knuckle, shifting the punch just enough to miss.
As the thug stumbled, Bliko pivoted behind him and gently kicked the back of his knee. The man dropped to the ground—then a light tap to the neck knocked him dazed.
Thug 2: You little—!!
He pulled out a rusty knife and slashed.
Bliko slid backward, nearly touching the floor, and with one leg, kicked the attacker's hand sideways—CLANG!—the knife stabbed into the wall.
Boy: That blade's dull. Sharpen it next time.
Before the thug could respond, Bliko twisted his wrist, letting the thug's own momentum make him fall.
No punches. No kicks.
Only precision.
The last thug hesitated. Bliko looked at him, slightly tilting his head—"You want some?"
Jane dragged herself into a corner, body wrecked. She trembled, not from fear… but from awe. She had never seen someone fight like this. No blood. No screams. Everything was graceful, as if Bliko was playing in his own backyard.
"Has he been trained… or did this city shape him?"
The thugs ran.
The boy stood, panting.
Then, a shadowy figure appeared from the dark.
Mysterious Voice: Good work, Bliko. Let's go.
Bliko: "Wait. I want to do one more thing."
Voice: That girl? I told you—NO BRINGING TRASH BACK!
The figure vanished.
Bliko approached Jane. She flinched, terrified, voice barely audible.
Jane: T-thank you… for saving me…
Bliko: No big deal. I was in training anyway, so… helped you while I was at it.
Jane shrank back slightly, instincts still sharp from surviving this cruel world.
Bliko: It's okay.
He reached out and gently pulled her from hiding. She struggled, scared. But Bliko began cleaning the dirt, blood, and tears from her face. Her pale skin returned.
Her little mouse ears, once drooping, perked up—though she winced in pain.
She resisted the bandaging, but Bliko calmly reassured her.
Bliko: By the way, how old are you?
Jane: …I don't really know… Maybe six? And you?
Bliko: …I'm seven.
He finished bandaging her.
Jane: So I guess I should call you 'big brother', huh?
Bliko: Yeah, I guess. Can you walk? If not, I'll carry you home.
Jane: Mm…
Bliko: Oh have this for you~.
Bliko throw apple to Jane. Then, Bliko carried Jane back to her handmade home and gently placed her down. He turned to leave.
She grabbed his hand.
Jane: Please… stay tonight… I'm scared…
Tears welled in her eyes. Her small frame trembled.
Bliko: …Okay.
He found a piece of cardboard, laid it beside her, and laid down. Then, he pulled her close into his arms.
Bliko: You know… I think your tail is pretty strong. Even if it's hurt, maybe we can turn it into a temporary weapon.
Jane just nodded, face buried in his chest, and fell asleep.
The next morning, she woke to find Bliko gone.
But her tail… it was reinforced. A mechanical device had been grafted to the tip—sharp, strong, a bit heavy. She rested and ate from her stored food to regain energy.
After a few days, Jane had recovered.
And when she moved again… she noticed something. The mechanical tail wasn't just for offense—it made her faster. Stronger. Whenever it glowed red, it felt like it stimulated her body, awakened something deeper.
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