It took a week of overdrawn stay for Haru to be deemed "sufficiently healed". Heaven Canceller and the nurses attempted to persuade him to stay within the hospital for a bit more time, but Haru cited private personal reasons to get out of there as quickly as possible. The longer he delayed, the chance of his most valuable possession being mutilated grew larger. His nervousness reached its peak as he approached the very building the grey truck carrying his mining pod entered into.
The large garage door itself refused to be budged by force. Kicking it didn't help either as it only injured his already sensitive leg.
"How annoying..." he muttered, before conjuring up his Tachyon-Sabre. Perhaps a good, solid whack would do the trick... placing all his weight upon the blade, he swung it like a flail toward the garage entrance.
*BANG*
Splinters flew everywhere as the blade collided with the door. Tiny spikes of wood burst from the opening, piercing the jacket Haru wore; they were stuck at the fabric itself, unable to penetrate past the clothing. He swung again, and once more. At this point the bottom part of the garage entrance was annihilated into pieces. With a sharp upward kick, he busted the upper part of the door. The inside of the garage was now fully exposed, and it revealed...!
Four teenagers playing poker on a table.
For a brief moment, all five of them were stunned at each other's unexpected entrance. The anticlimactic ending to his assault at the door surprised Haru, and the four teenagers who sat at the table were openly gaping at him. He did notice, however, that those four were the same people who stole his mining pod in the first place.
Large number gave advantage to initiative, it seemed. All four of them stood up immediately, planning to charge at the unexpected assailant.
One versus four. Heck naw, he wasn't Chuck Norris. The only martial art he knew about that was exceptionally designed for fighting multiple opponents was Choy Li Fut, and he sadly was not yet proficient with that fighting style. The moment the four of them rose up from the table he whipped out his pistol from his jacket.
"SIT DOWN, SON!" he bellowed at them for the extra comedic effect. All four of them froze at the sight of a weapon and slowly sat back down on the table.
"Alright, I'm going to ask this only once." taking the full advantage of the psychological fear he was inflicting upon them at the moment, Haru began his interrogation. "Where the hell is my pod?"
Perhaps it was because he spoke through his teeth, garbling his pronunciation. Perhaps it was because they had the barrel of his gun pointed toward them, and they were still trying to grip with their current predicament. Whatever the reason was, they did not answer his question, which only increased his wrath. Haru charged toward the poker table, smashing it into two pieces with his classic Taekwondo axe kick. Ignoring the other three thugs he pointed his weapon toward the one with the unruly blonde hair. In his comically flawed logic, Haru identified him as the ring leader purely because he had a ring piercing on his nose.
"WHAT COUNTRY ARE YOU FROM!" Haru roared at him.
Still petrified with fear, he mustered up a single reply: "What?"
"'WHAT' IS NOT A COUNTRY!" Haru barked. "DO THEY SPEAK ENGLISH IN 'WHAT'?"
At this point he looked positively terrified. "...What?" he replied in a small voice.
"ENGLISH MOTHER#%!$^& CAN YOU SPEAK IT!?" Haru was now red in the face, yelling his voice out.
"...We're speaking Japanese..." the one being interrogated was now very afraid for his life.
Haru took the cards he still was clutching in his hands and threw them on the ground. "DO YOU, UNDERSTAND, THE WORDS, THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH!?"
"...Yes?" now he was having a near heart attack.
"THAN TELL ME WHERE MY POD IS!"
"... What?"
Becoming greatly frustrated, he shoved the barrel of his gun hard at the cheek of his victim. "SAY 'WHAT' AGAIN! COME ON, SAY 'WHAT' AGAIN! I DARE YOU, I DOUBLE DARE YOU MOTHER#%!$^&, SAY 'WHAT' ONE MORE G-D%$#& TIME!"
If the one with the yellow hair was peeing on the spot, no one would have been surprised.
"... Nani...?" he weakly replied.
Haru hit the ceiling, experiencing aneurysm and conniption at the same time. Cocking his gun, he fired straight into the victim's face.
*BOOM*
A white, plastic ball flew from the barrel. It hit the face of the victim (who had his face cringed, his eyes shut tight) and bounced off, and fell to the ground.
Silence fell over the room.
"Eh-heh-heh-heh..." Haru chuckled nervously. Due to his sudden berserk rage he forgot the fact that he was holding a toy gun, rather than a real weapon. Why exactly a toy gun would emit a similar noise to a real weapon, he couldn't fathom.
"... What do you say we discuss this like rational beings?"
On the hindsight, it was a very foolish move, firing the gun into his face. If he was holding a real gun, his victim would have been killed. But thankfully he was not... one might say "no harm no foul", but now he had to deal with four extremely angry people on his hands. Of course, he had his own powers, but that made it only a bit easier.
In a fraction of a second Haru had already calculated the situation of his battle. There were about 2,300,000 people within Academy City. 20% of them were unrelated workers, so that narrowed it down to 1,840,000. About 328,571 were actual espers, and the rest were all level 0's. Level 4's ranged around in mere thousands (he couldn't remember the number—which was quite unfortunate, really), while there were only 7 level 5's. 2 of them he had actually met, so that narrowed it down to 5. In short, about 0.00027% chance that one of them were level 5, about 0.3% chance that some of them were level 4's, around 20% chance that they were levels 1 to 3, and about 80% chance that they were level 0's, ones with no power. If he kept his head cool, he would be able to escape this situation unscathed.
The one with flat black hair lifted up a chair and bashed it onto Haru's back, forcing him to stumble. He conjured his sabre, smashing the next piece of furniture his opponent threw against him. The one with the Mohawk charged at him with a steel pipe, swinging it wildly toward him. Haru ducked, and the pipe struck the one with shaggy brown hair squarely within the face. The yellow hair barked some orders to his comrades that Haru tuned out while grabbing a leg of the desk that was broken in half.
It seemed that all four of them were level 0, unable to use any kind of power as they resorted to nearby objects to attack him with. If they had carefully coordinated and initiated this attack, they would have had a semblance of organization, able to take down even a great foe with numbers on their side. But it seemed that the element of surprise favored Haru in this situation. When multiple people suddenly attacked the same target at once without careful planning, they were bound to strike each other through chaotic and uncoordinated attacks, as they did not know each other's intentions. The alternative was to battle him one by one so that they would not interfere with each other's attacks, but the enormous advantage Haru's powers gave him on one versus one ruled out that possibility.
On the other hand, if they were battling any other normal esper they would have eventually overwhelmed their foe using their advantage in numbers. The level 0's turned to physical endurance in order to compensate for their lack of power and had far more somatic power and stamina compared to actual espers. But Haru himself had gone into professional physical training as his powers were not entirely suitable toward combat. His bodily conditioning was for situations such as this as he often found himself in the middle of a field of battle. Haru drew upon his martial art teachings in order to dodge, counter, and to grapple his opponents, while simultaneously sprinkling in some of his ability to give himself an edge. His primary goal was to make them attack themselves in confusion; he just came out from a hospital and had neither the energy nor stamina his normal self would have possessed. He needed to fight conservatively in order to avoid losing, or worse. Those four aimed to kill.
In the end, the destruction the battle caused was awe-inspiring. No furniture within the living room was spared, for all of them were used for weapons. Pieces and splinters of wood and glass and plastic were scattered all over the place as if a huge earthquake had occurred. The ceiling fan was sprawled upon the floor, its wings broken. Televisions had their screens cracked as if someone had swung their bats against them. At some point, foods themselves were introduced into combat as chili powders and other various condiments were peppered and sprayed all over the place. All in all, it was a very messy scene. The four level 0's were tied up against the wall with great difficulty, their hands and feet bound tightly.
He himself was not unharmed, unfortunately. He had many bruises from his opponents striking him with various objects, and he was bleeding from multiple reopened wounds. At this rate he might even have to go back to the hospital again. One might even suspect that he was getting himself injured in order to see the nurses.
"Last week, my mining machine was stolen from its hiding place." Haru stalked around the room, his hands clasped behind him. The four victims tied up against the wall listened with fear. "I want to know where you placed it, and what you did with it." he spoke threateningly through his clenched teeth.
"What machine?" The one with the Mohawk piped up, much to the displeasure of other captives. "We steal a lot of gadgets, you know..."
"The one with the mining drill on front." Haru replied in a low voice.
"Oh, that?" Mohawk continued; at this point his comrades were desperately shushing him, becoming fearful of their own lives. "We dissembled it."
Short silence fell as the news began to hit Haru straight in the face. At first, he merely stood silent. All four tied up victims stared frightfully at Haru, anticipating his wrathful reaction. At long last, he spoke.
"You..." he began with anger clearly visible within his voice. "DESTROYED ITTTTTT!?" he roared. Tachyon particles sprung from his pressure points on his body in frenzy, flying indiscriminately all over the place, some shattering glass windows and some bouncing off of the walls erratically. Death metal music began to whine within the backdrop as the house itself shook from the vibrations. Blue lasers danced around the room as space-time itself began to bend behind Haru as if he was some sort of sage. Blindingly blue lights began to shine from his eyes. If the colors themselves were golden instead of neon blue, one might have even suspected Haru of being a Time Lord, going through regeneration process. The four captives quivered in absolute terror, trying all their might not to be hit by the beams of destruction.
"WHERE. IS. MY. MACHINE!" He now yelled at a psychopathic level of fury, and the level of the destruction he was causing seemed to stay true to his words: not a single brick would lay on top of another at this rate.
And then, everything stopped. The music, the tremor, the lasers. Not because he wanted to, but at this point he was again coughing up blood, unable to keep up the required mental and physical concentration. Slowly kneeling on the ground with one knee, he heaved violent breaths, having overexerted himself with his own powers. The victims slowly peeked out from debris like a group of frightened animals.
"I'm going to ask for the last time." he slowly spoke. "Tell me where my machine is."
Trembling with fear, the one with shaggy yellow hair pointed his chin toward the door located on the far left. Standing up, Haru walked toward the door with a stiff gait, preparing himself for what might lie beyond that entrance. Firmly grasping the handle, he twisted it and opened the door swiftly.
… No amount of time would have been enough for him to prepare himself for what he saw. His machine, his beautiful mining pod, was disassembled into tons of components, each individual circuitry and hardware scattered on the ground. It was as if the machine itself was shattered neatly into thousands of pieces.
The victims thought that he would fly into rage all over again. But, on the contrary, Haru just stood there, silently absorbing the shocking image.
After some time, he sighed, his shoulders dropping.
"You know what? I'm not going to waste my energy." His voice was deadly, venom dripping off of his every word. He stooped down and picked up a piece of sharp hardware. "I'm just going to slit your throats and be done with this."
Facing the prospect of bloody death, the four captives flew into deep terror, as they began to sputter and stutter into flits of protests. Haru silently ignored while slowly stalking toward them with deadly killing intent.
"PLEASE! SPARE US!"
"SLI-SLI-SLI-SLIT!?"
"WE WILL NEVER BOTHER YOU AGAIN! PLEASE DON'T KILL US!"
Their cries for help rang all over the house, yet no one responded. They were in the middle of the ghetto territory of Academy City. Every man for himself.
"WAIT!" the one with the yellow hair desperately shouted. "WE'LL FIX YOUR MACHINE!"
Haru stopped at his words, entertaining the prospect. If he killed them now, he would have to immediately flee the scene, forced to leave his own machine within this house to be confiscated by others. If he took the risk of setting them free, and if they stood true to their words, it would save him unimaginable effort... hmm, what to do...
Other captives nodded earnestly at their ringleader's words once they perceived that Haru was actually considering their offer. He himself still stood with his hands clutching the piece of hardware, contemplating his options.
After a moment he began to walk toward them, still holding the sharp steel within his hand. He lifted up his weapon and struck the one with the yellow hair on his wrists. They all flinched with deep terror.
Ropes fell off of his hands in one neat slice. Yellow hair began to check his hands and wrists as if to reassure himself that they were still intact. Once again Haru lifted up his weapon to slice the ropes tying the yellow hair's feet. Walking around he slowly freed all his captives, and one by one they gradually stood up, uncertain as to what they actually should do next. Mercy from their enemy was unexpected, it seemed.
All five of them stood in front of each other, unsure of their own actions at this point.
"If we are to actually fix this thing, we'd better do it quickly." Haru coldly stated. "Of course, you four will be doing the grunt work—"
At that point the three of them felt that the situation itself was safe enough for them to scram. In one instant they all fled, running for their dear lives. Outside of the house their hurried footsteps rang out as they ran from the Prince of Terror. Only the yellow haired one was left within the house, openly gaping at his compatriots' desertion. He trembled in front of now alert Haru, who scowled at him with red gleam within his eyes, tightly seizing the piece of steel within his hands.
Several seconds passed while the two people stared at each other, the echoes of the footsteps of the traitors ringing.
Strength suddenly disappearing within his body, Haru visibly deflated in exhaustion. Placing the piece of steel within his pocket, he turned around and slowly walked toward the door. The yellow hair stood on the spot, not believing his own fortune.
Sitting down on one of the chairs within the room, Haru gazed at the scattered pieces of the machine before him.
How was he going to fix this thing? The prospect by itself was frightening; actually facing the monumental task he had to do totally killed his psyche. It was like facing a mountain of jigsaw puzzles, only 100 times more intricate and complex. He only had limited knowledge on machinery.
The yellow hair slowly tiptoed into the room, silently lingering near the doorway. He was testing the waters, contemplating whether the coast was clear enough to venture inside.
"You better run too before I regain my energy." Haru spoke in lethargy. "I might lose my composure at some point. Believe me, my impatience literally exceeds the speed of light."
"... You'll need help fixing that thing." The yellow hair spoke. "I know how to operate machinery. You can't fix your machine alone."
Haru silently sat there with his hands folded, absorbing the words the yellow hair uttered.
"... I'm going to collect the pieces," Haru replied. "I'm not staying within this place longer than I have to. You can help if you want, but I would think you'd want to run, like others." grabbing the nearest plastic bag available, he began to scoop the scraps into the container. After a few moments the yellow hair joined in with another bag within his hand.
"You are different from others. You are the chief among them, I assume." He held out his hand toward him. "My name is Haru Tachyon. What is yours?"
After eyeing his hand warily, the yellow hair grasped it.
"Hamazura Shiage," he replied.