Mr. Lee leaned forward in the shadows, his fingers dancing across a hidden console.
"Hmm… since one of them's an aetherbrid ," he mused with a glint in his eye, "let's tune the Mechaman to Level 2, shall we?"
He tapped a command.
[Level 2 Battle Sequence Activated]
The mechanical voice echoed through the hall like a warning siren.
The robot's eyes glowed brighter, and its joints hissed as hidden compartments shifted and clicked into place.
Back in the open hall, the boys stared in shock.
"Wait… Level 2?" Dame blinked, confused.
Before anyone could respond, the Mechaman moved.
Faster.
It zipped forward with a burst of momentum, almost a blur of steel.
"Yo—what the heck!" Dame yelled, diving to the side as the robot zoomed past. "It's faster now! Way faster!"
..
The three boys quickly scattered, trying to find distance as the Mechaman advanced with frightening speed.
"Yo, Van! You got a plan yet?!" Dame called out, panting as he narrowly dodged another swipe from the robot. Panic was laced in his voice—it really felt like they were on their own this time.
Kenji, on the other hand, was trying to focus. He clenched his fists, sweat beading on his forehead. Normally, an aetherbrid like him would've healed from injuries by now. Their regenerative capabilities were far beyond that of normal humans. But that day… when the Red Skull members had attacked, one of them had used a strange blade—one that left wounds deeper than flesh. It had somehow tampered with his healing. He was still weakened.
.....
Back in the orphanage
Miss Lana stood firm at the premises of the orphanage, her eyes narrowing slightly as she examined the boy before her. He was striking—golden hair tousled with casual charm, dressed in a sleek, futuristic black-and-yellow jumpsuit that hugged his lean form like it was tailored by a master artisan.
Yet despite his handsome appearance, there was something… off about him. Something that made her instincts bristle.
"So…" she said slowly, folding her arms, "you're here for Kenji?"
The boy flashed a charming smile. "That's right."
"Remind me again—who exactly are you to him?" she asked, tone sharp with suspicion.
"I'm an old friend," Kuvin replied, voice laced with forced patience. "It's very important that I see him. I have a message… and it's a message I must deliver in person."
Lana's gaze hardened. Old friend? Kenji never mentioned anyone like this. And her gut was rarely wrong.
"Well," she said flatly, "Kenji isn't around at the moment."
Kuvin's expression tightened, the faintest flicker of annoyance dancing across his golden eyes. "When will he be back?"
"In an hour or two, maybe," she replied, still watching him like a hawk.
Why does this boy feel dangerous? she thought, the unease in her chest deepening.
He was polite, well-spoken, even charming—but something about his aura made the hair on her neck rise.
...
Back at the Martial Palace…
Van's eyes narrowed as a memory flickered across his mind—Kenji's earlier strike with the wooden daggers.
He remembered it clearly: the way the robot's balance faltered, its movements glitching for just a second. It wasn't just a lucky hit… there was something more.
"The lights..." Van muttered, a spark of realization igniting in his mind.
His gaze darted to the robot across the hall, then to the faint flickers of light embedded along its body. In that moment, it clicked.
"It's not just a machine—it's powered by multiple nodes… but there's one main capital point feeding the rest."
A grin tugged at the corner of Van's lips.
"That's the weak link."
He glanced down at his battered guandao, the once-proud training weapon now splintered and cracked. Without hesitation, he snapped it again, taking a jagged shard from the broken blade.
"Its armor isn't as tough as it looks… if we're breaking it with wood, then we just need to strike smart, not hard."
Van's eyes glinted with new focus as he tightened his grip on the shard, ready to test his theory.
"Let's see what happens when you hit a machine where it really hurts."
"Kenji," Van's voice cut through the chaos as he appeared behind him, steady and sharp. "You can sense things at the micro level, right?"
"Yeah… but that won't help now," Kenji muttered, eyes flicking toward Dame who was doing his best to stall the Mechaman.
"It can. I need you to scan that thing—find another weak point."
Kenji hesitated for a second, then nodded. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When they opened again, they glowed a brilliant electric blue.
His vision zoomed in—beyond the surface of the robot, deeper than the metal. He scanned its framework, its wiring, its joints… until finally—
"There!" he pointed. "The core—it's on its head. A small diamond-shaped core. That's its power center!"
Van's eyes lit up as he spotted the faint blue shimmer embedded in the robot's forehead. "Perfect."
Without wasting another second, Van dashed forward—his heart pounding, his instincts roaring. He remembered that one move Mr. Lee had performed… the move that had obliterated the head of a mannequin in a single strike. He'd only ever seen it once, but it had burned into his memory.
"I hope this works," he muttered under his breath.
Van moved faster than he ever had before—his form blurring, adrenaline surging through his veins. With a guttural shout, he jumped and twisted mid-air, focusing all his energy into one devastating claw strike—straight to the robot's head.
CRACK!
The core shattered under his palm. The robot froze.
[Level 2 complete.]
The words echoed from the Mechaman as it shut down, collapsing in defeat.
Van stood over the fallen machine, his hand dripping blood, trembling from the impact. The cheers of Dame and Kenji reached his ears, but they sounded distant—blurred, like background noise.
Because at that moment, something else happened.
A voice rang out—but not from the robot.
Ding
[Quest: defeat the robot]
[Status: Complete]
"Hmm… maybe fighting isn't so bad after all," Van muttered with a sly grin, his chest rising with excitement.
A soft chime echoed in his ears.
[System Notification]
[Quest Completed: Defeat the Robot]
[Reward: Instant Level Up, ]
[1 stat point]
A warm surge of energy coursed through his body as his system interface flickered briefly before his eyes. Van clenched his fists, feeling the subtle yet undeniable boost in strength. His muscles felt tighter, his movements sharper, and his instincts—alive.
"Yeah..." he smirked, eyes glowing faintly with newfound confidence.
"Fighting might actually be my thing."