5 | A Question of Courage

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"Keep your head down. There's a lot of shady characters in this ring of Valor," Ronin said, avoiding stepping in a shiny puddle slicked with oil.

Neon signs flickered in the dark, their glow contributing to light the massive city and its streets. Overhead, clouds and haze obscured the stars. A faint drizzle dampened the air, causing the holographic ads and billboards to glitch every few seconds. They promised trinkets to raise strength, exotic food that would fill stamina bars for days, and company that guaranteed good mental in the battles to follow.

"Don't have to tell me twice." Mori scampered along like a mouse in Ronin's shadow, careful not to glance too long at any of the players they passed. Some looked tough and worn like old leather, their eyes smoldering embers and their mouths puffing smoke from vapes. Others stumbled out of bars with hollow gazes, reeking of desperation to escape this life the only way they knew how.

Once, when she fell too far behind Ronin's long strides, greasy hands found their way into her long hair.

"Not many pretties like you around here," a low voice said.

Hot breath fanned Mori's neck and she yelped as the fist tightened to hold her hostage. Panicking, Mori prepared to summon her rifle. But at this range...She gagged at the stench of too many missed showers. A man's face appeared at the edge of her vision at the same moment a pistol pressed against his temple.

"Let her go or I'll blow your brains out." Ronin's dark eyes flashed. The jewel at his ear sparkled in the night, the only color to contrast his black attire.

Mori sighed in relief as the hand released her, fingers finding the tender spot of her scalp. She hurried to put Ronin between herself and the man, a player with a buzzcut and a modern tactical vest.

"If it isn't the dishonorable samurai back from the front," he sneered. "Found another teammate after you got the last one killed?"

Before Mori could blink, Ronin had the other man slammed against the wall of a building. He still had the pistol in his grip, but the weapon shook. "You're lucky she remains dear to my memory, otherwise I'd become a player killer right now," he growled.

"Do it." The man laughed, half-choking when Ronin pushed against his throat. "Or are you too afraid?"

Something wild entered Ronin's eyes, his breaths coming in short gasps like he'd been shot. Mori watched his golden bar jump from four to five before she stepped forward and grabbed his sleeve. "Ronin."

His gaze snapped to her, a smidge of sanity pushing back the bloodlust pooling in his eyes.

"C'mon. He's not worth it," Mori said with a gentle tug.

Ronin released the other player, gun still trained on his head. When he took Mori's hand, she almost shivered from its ice-cold touch. "You're right. He's not." Hate burned across his face like a red hot-brand, twisting his usually neutral expression into something ugly and dangerous.

She hadn't dared ask who his old teammate was, not as they left the alley and not now as she stepped around the puddles dotting the asphalt. Ronin looked back for her every few steps, but whenever she caught up, he walked away faster. It's like he wants but doesn't want me here, Mori thought, tucking her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

Ronin tugged open a door below a humming sign reading "The Golden Cat". A bell chimed, light and clear. "After you."

Mori stepped inside to the sound of clinking glasses and quiet murmurs. The homey scent of jasmine tea tickled her nose. Red paper lanterns bathed the room in a muted light, along with soft music in the background.

Facing Fear | ✓ ONC 2023 Honorable MentionΌπου ζουν οι ιστορίες. Ανακάλυψε τώρα