What is the most devastating thing in the world? "Failure at the last step" definitely counts—and ranks near the top.
The bandit leader: "…"
No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't understand why.
But he knew that he had lost. Completely.
Originally, he had only planned to make a ruthless score from this train that had suddenly stopped for some unknown reason, and then head toward their true target.
To save time—and to avoid alerting the people in front—they had chosen such a rear carriage as their target.
But why—
That damn fatso, and those two damn brats!!
Using the only part of his body that could still move—his eyes—the bandit leader viciously carved up the three people who had sent him from heaven straight into hell.
"It won't end like this…"
If what awaited him was life imprisonment lasting hundreds of years, or even the death penalty—then why shouldn't he drag everyone in this carriage down to hell with him right here…
With that thought, he burst into shrill laughter.
If a man no longer feared death, then the oppressive aura that brought him to the brink of it would lose much of its effect.
Amos's expression changed abruptly.
He had seen this kind of hysterical madness before death far too many times in Meteor City.
His figure vanished from where he stood, charging straight at the bandit leader.
"Pfft—"
The dagger wrapped in aura pierced straight through the bandit leader's heart.
Yet Amos's gaze did not relax in the slightest.
Something rolled out from the collapsing body of the bandit leader.
A round object, with a fuse, emitting blue smoke.
The moment he saw what it was, Amos's pupils shrank to their limit.
Kisho's eyes widened as well.
"Amos—"
With only a Conjurer's "Ten," there was no way to block an explosion at such close range!
The badge in his pocket instantly emitted a dark green glow.
He vanished from where he stood and reappeared beside Amos.
He grabbed Amos's clothes and yanked him behind himself, while his other hand gathered a stream of water, pouring it over the object on the ground.
But someone moved even faster than he did.
Tasber—this would-be police officer who had likely been expelled from the academy because of his obesity.
He rushed forward as well.
He passed Kisho and Amos and used his own body to press the grenade firmly beneath him.
The next second.
"Boom—!"
A dazzling flash of fire burst through the carriage under the night sky.
With a crisp "ding," a medal rolled onto the floor.
Even soaked in blood, it still shone brilliantly.
...
Inside the carriage, the passengers—who had thought they were finally safe—only realized what had happened in those few brief seconds after hearing the explosion.
Gasps of shock, cries of alarm, and screams rose one after another.
Some were grateful to still be alive.
Some cried as they rushed through the open carriage doors into the night.
Others threw themselves at the boxes in front of the carriage, rummaging for the belongings that had once been theirs.
Some wanted to drag the entire carriage down to hell with them; others sent themselves to hell just so the rest could remain among the living.
Kisho looked at the overweight policeman lying face-down on the ground, his hand gripping Amos's sleeve trembling uncontrollably.
"Calm down! You doused the bomb with water just now—the explosion wasn't as powerful as it could've been!"
Amos turned and firmly pressed down on Kisho's shoulder, saying heavily:
"There's still aura leaking from him. He's alive!"
Kisho gave a slight nod and quickly stepped to Tasber's side, turning him over.
Fragments from the grenade had pierced countless places across Tasber's body.
The most serious wound was in his lower abdomen. Blood flowed out in waves, staining his white shirt crimson.
Kisho condensed aura into water, extinguishing the remaining sparks on Tasber's body. Looking at the countless wounds, he frowned deeply.
He looked at Amos. "Stop the bleeding first. Use aura!"
Amos nodded and sat down beside Tasber.
Another "Kisho" ran over as well and crouched at Tasber's side.
Aura, in the form of "Gyo," sealed the most fatal wounds on Tasber's body, stopping the surging blood.
Aura-water washed over the skin charred by high heat. The blackened outer layer peeled away, revealing fresh new flesh beneath.
...
There were never any shortages of onlookers. Passengers slowly gathered around them in the carriage.
"Move aside! Don't block the way!"
A teenage voice rang out, driving the crowd back.
Another boy walked over and sat beside Tasber.
He adjusted his glasses, took off his coat and tore it into strips, quickly and skillfully tying them around the upper parts of Tasber's limbs.
It stopped the blood flowing from the wounds on his arms and legs that had not yet been treated.
As he worked, he called toward the boy who had just spoken: "Piedo, call Huntsdon and get the res—"
He did not finish his sentence before his eyes widened abruptly.
Kisho and Amos's expressions shifted slightly as well.
Because from Tasber's body, countless strands of white aura surged out, enveloping him at the center.
And Kisho and Amos, who were treating his injuries, also felt a stream of aura emerging from Tasber's body.
Though faint, it was like the source of a stream—unceasing, inexhaustible.
No one knew when the rudimentary form of this "aura" inside Tasber had been born.
—Was it after the two of them used aura to heal him, or before, when he had resolutely rushed forward to smother the bomb?
Kisho preferred to believe it was the latter.
Perhaps that was precisely why this truly worthy policeman had survived.
Tasber slowly opened his eyes. When he saw Kisho and Amos's faces, confusion appeared on his expression.
"I… am I still alive?"
"Yeah."
The boy with glasses answered him while picking up the medal from the ground and placing it in his palm. "Thanks to you—"
He then looked at Amos and Kisho, grinning. "And you two, everyone in this carriage was saved. By the way, the white aura coming out of you… what is it?"
Tasber asked weakly and blankly, "…White aura?"
Kisho and Amos exchanged a glance.
"You should be able to feel that aura."
Kisho spoke softly but seriously.
"Try to control it. Let it surround your body."
Tasber: "…"
A few minutes later, the white aura flowing from his body disappeared.
But in Kisho and Amos's eyes, a thin layer of "Ten" now surrounded the policeman's body.
Under the astonished, panicked—even terrified—gazes of everyone in the carriage, the man who had stepped into hell just minutes ago slowly sat up on his own.
Furrowing his brows, he thought for a moment before speaking hesitantly:
"I feel like… I can completely control every part of my body."
As if to prove his words, the fragments embedded in his body were gradually pushed out by the slow contraction of his muscles, falling one by one from the wounds.
Then, under the horrified stares of the crowd, the fat all over his body began to shrink. Shrink—
The fat man was gone.
In his place stood a young man with a resolute expression and sharply defined features.
Kisho stared at him and marveled inwardly:
"Sure enough, every fat guy is a hidden gem!"
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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