The clinic couldn't contain us.
Cracked tiles crunched underfoot, dust hanging thick in the air as broken medical equipment lay scattered like bones across the floor. Blood—old and fresh—stained the white walls in violent arcs, evidence of a place that had once healed and now remembered only fighting.
Tom Lee stood across from me, shoulders rolling once, eyes locked forward.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just recognition.
"…So," he said slowly, voice rough, "you're Gapryong's golden mutt."
I smiled faintly.
"And you're still alive," I replied.
His lip curled.
We moved.
At the exact same moment.
Tom came in heavy—no wasted motion, no wind-up. A straight punch tore through the air, compressed with decades of experience. I raised my guard instinctively—
BANG.
The impact rattled my bones, shock ripping through my forearms and into my spine. My heels slid back an inch as concrete screeched beneath my shoes.
"…Good," I muttered.
I stepped inside immediately.
Muay Thai.
My base.
My elbow shot forward—short, vicious, precise.
CRACK.
Tom tilted just enough for it to graze his cheek instead of destroying his jaw. He answered instantly, his forearm smashing into my ribs at close range.
Pain exploded.
Sharp.
Deep.
Not a clean break—but enough.
For a split second, my breath vanished. My vision dimmed as cartilage bent under the force.
Tom followed up ruthlessly.
A short hook clipped my jaw. An elbow crashed down toward my collarbone. Pressure. Constant pressure.
This was his range.
Close.Crowded.Where experience ruled.
I exhaled slowly through clenched teeth.
And let it happen.
Endurance Mastery activated.
The pain didn't disappear.
It stabilized.
My core locked unnaturally tight, muscles reinforcing themselves like steel cables wrapped around broken stone. Breathing returned. My spine straightened.
Tom felt it.
He struck my ribs again—same spot.
I didn't fold.
"…You also have huh," he growled.
I smiled, blood streaking my teeth.
"Yeah," I replied. "Why wouldn't I?"
I stepped forward instead of back.
Muay Thai stance settled—hips grounded, elbows tight, posture ironclad.
I clinched.
My arms wrapped behind his neck, locking tight as I dragged him downward.
My knee surged upward.
THUD.
Another.
THUD.
Tom snarled and smashed his elbow into my ribs again, relentless, trying to break what refused to fall. Pain screamed—but my body absorbed it.
Endurance Mastery held.
He wrenched free and backed half a step.
The air shifted.
Tom stopped holding back.
His presence thickened, pressure rolling off him like heat. Power condensed into his frame. Experience sharpened his timing. And beneath it all—
Animal instinct awakened.
He stacked his masteries.
Tom lunged.
The floor cracked beneath his step.
A fist crashed into my guard hard enough to numb my arms. An elbow followed, tearing across my shoulder. A knee slammed into my thigh.
Strike after strike came faster, heavier, more brutal—each boosted by instinct and killing pressure meant to overwhelm even monsters.
He was trying to break my endurance.
I answered with Muay Thai.
Shin checks slammed against his legs. Elbows carved across his guard. Clinches snapped him off balance before he could capitalize.
We traded headbutts.
CRACK.
Stars burst across my vision.
I activated my path, seeing 10 seconds into the future
I saw Tom seize the moment—shoulder driving into my chest, slamming me into the wall.
BOOM.
Concrete fractured behind me.
He pressed his forearm into my throat, power flooding his body as he leaned in, trying to crush me with dominance alone.
"Stay," he growled."Down."
I blinked into the present and saw him rushing before I jumped and performed a flying knee, crashing my knee into his skull
CRACCKK
The noise faded.
The dust froze.
Ten seconds unfolded before me.
Tom is pressing harder.Overcommitting.His weight is shifting just a fraction too far forward.
I moved before it happened.
I twisted out of the pin as it formed, slipping past pressure that hadn't fully arrived yet. My elbow rose and smashed into his jaw.
CRACK.
I clinched instantly—perfect timing.
My knee slammed into his ribs.
THUD.
Again.
THUD.
Tom roared, trying to counter, but I was already gone—weaving through futures he hadn't lived yet. Every instinctive strike met empty air.
I punished him.
Elbow across the face.Knee to the stomach.Downward elbow to the shoulder.
Blood sprayed.
Tom staggered—but didn't fall.
Experience kept him alive. Instinct kept him dangerous.
He lunged one last time, throwing everything into a savage charge born from survival itself.
I stepped aside, grabbed his hand, gripping it tight,
CLINK
I saw it crumble, making me look at him in shock as his left hand was gone, and it was a prosthetic.
I narrowed my eyes before planting my feet on the floor
And drove a Conviction powered Fist into his face.
BOOOMM
'ACKKK,' he let out
Tom Lee smashed into the far wall, concrete spiderwebbing outward as he slumped forward, coughing blood onto the floor.
I stood over him, chest heaving, Muay Thai stance grounded and unbroken. My ribs screamed—but they didn't slow me.
"Experience kept you standing," I said quietly.
"But time moves on, old man."
Tom stayed slumped against the wall, blood pouring down his face, a feral grin splitting his lips.
"…Heh," he laughed. "Gapryong really did leave a monster behind."
I clenched my fist.
"Meh, maybe," I said calmly, eyes locked on his,
The clinic groaned around us.
Two eras collided.
And only one could keep walking forward.
The clinic was quiet again.
Not peaceful—never that—but quiet in the way a battlefield becomes once both sides realize the killing has paused. Broken tiles lay scattered beneath our feet, dust still drifting lazily through the air like it hadn't gotten the memo that the fight was over.
Tom Lee sat slumped against the shattered wall, one knee bent, one arm hanging loose. Blood dried dark against his skin. His chest rose and fell slowly, heavily—each breath earned.
I walked over and dropped down across from him, sitting on an overturned medical crate like this was just another bad night.
I reached into his coat.
Pulled out his cigarettes.
Lit one.
The flame flared briefly in the dim room.
Tom's eye twitched the moment he saw smoke curling from his pack.
"…Oi," he muttered. "Those are mine."
I took a long drag and exhaled slowly.
"Relax," I said. "Consider it rent. You wrecked the place."
He scoffed quietly, then winced as the motion tugged at his ribs.
I glanced at him sideways.
"Why weren't you at the funeral?"
The question hung between us, heavier than any punch we'd thrown.
Tom let out a long, tired sigh and leaned his head back against the wall.
"I was looking for Jinyoung," he said.
I closed my eyes.
"…Fuck's sake," I muttered. "Well, welcome to the fucking club, old man."
That got a rough laugh out of him. Short. Bitter.
"Didn't think I'd be sharing it with you."
I flicked ash onto the floor and looked at him again, my expression hardening.
"Do you know what happened to the old man?" I asked.
Tom didn't answer right away.
He breathed.
Slow. Heavy.
"That's what I wanted to find out from Jinyoung," he finally said.
I sighed and rubbed my temples, fingers pressing hard like that might squeeze answers out of my skull.
"…Jeez," I muttered. "Same boat, huh."
Silence crept back in.
Then my eyes drifted down.
To his hand.
The limb was gone—twisted, scarred in a way that wasn't old. Fresh damage layered over something deeper. Something ugly.
"…Your hand," I said. "Who did that?"
Tom's expression darkened instantly.
His jaw tightened.
The air shifted.
I clicked my tongue softly.
"…Alright," I said, holding up a hand. "Let it go."
I stood up, joints cracking as I straightened to my full height.
"If you don't know anything," I continued, "do you know anyone who might?"
Tom glanced up at me.
"…Elite," I said. "He was the brains of your group."
Tom let out another heavy sigh, this one slower—like it weighed more than the rest.
"I know he's moving," he said. "Where, I don't know. He's been busy."
He pushed himself up from the wall, standing with a grunt.
"Probably looking into Gapryong's death as well."
My eye twitched.
I stared at the floor for a moment, then muttered quietly—
"…He's probably the one getting rid of all those Pre-Gen guys in the shadows."
Tom looked at me sharply.
Didn't argue.
Didn't deny it.
That told me enough.
I looked at him with a sigh before asking
'That Bald geezer should know Baekho, he is the old man's right hand,d you know where he might be?' I asked
Tom let out a sigh before sitting on the crate, saying Probably at the headquarters of Gapryongs'
making me twitch, saying, 'Can you take me there?'
He scoffed
'I have to find Jinyoung,' he said before looking at me and tearing a piece of cardboard off the rubbish lying around, writing something before chucking it to me, making me twitch
'Thats the address you punk dont give it out to anyone, just go there and see him, tell him I sent you,' he says as I read the note and nod
I stepped closer, pulled the cigarette from my mouth, and handed the pack back to him. Before he could react, I slid my phone out, scribbled my number on the cardboard, and tucked it inside.
"Keep it," I said.
Then I turned and started walking toward the exit.
"I'll catch you later, old geezer," I added over my shoulder. "Thanks for the fight."
I paused at the doorway, rain pattering softly outside.
"…I really needed it."
Then I left.
My footsteps faded down the street, swallowed by rain and distance.
Behind me, Tom Lee stood still for a long moment, staring at my back.
Then—
He sighed.