Chapter 9: Team, Dreamers and Uncle
The rescue had been declared a success.
Publicly, the "NBA" never claimed involvement.
Instead, a well-known humanitarian front distributed food, medical supplies, temporary shelters, even recreational equipment for the displaced families.
Trucks rolled in.
Volunteers worked overtime.
News drones captured hopeful angles.
For the first time in years, Daito's town did not look forgotten.
It looked… observed.
A week passed.
Repairs began.
People rebuilt.
And the battlefield scars slowly faded from concrete and skin alike.
Inside headquarters, the atmosphere shifted.
The Woman in White gathered the team.
"They're returning today," she said calmly.
"Two months overseas. High-priority operations."
Tasao cracked his neck. "The golden squad?"
Zumi exhaled. "The celebrities."
She nodded once.
"The Dreamers."
* * *
They entered like they owned silence.
Four Savages.
Disciplined.
Sharp.
Lethal.
Their movements were synchronized even when casual.
At their front—
Sakumo S. Sagase.
Dual swords rested at his waist.
Not ornamental.
Not decorative.
Balanced perfectly for draw speed.
His posture alone spoke of thousands of hours of practice.
He didn't look arrogant.
He didn't look emotional.
He looked refined.
Daito watched from across the training hall.
Something about him irritated him.
Not personality.
Presence.
Dual-wielding swords at a master level was rare.
Extremely rare.
Most who attempted it sacrificed precision for flash.
But Sakumo carried them like they belonged there.
That bothered Daito.
Sakumo walked past without even glancing at him.
He didn't know him.
Or at least—
He didn't show it.
* * *
Later that day, by coincidence or design, they found themselves alone in the weapons chamber.
Steel racks lined the walls.
The air smelled faintly of oil and sharpened metal.
Sakumo adjusted one of his blades.
Daito spoke first.
"Dual blades."
Sakumo glanced sideways. "Yes."
"It's inefficient if you lack control."
Sakumo's eyebrow twitched slightly.
"And effective if you don't."
Silence.
Then Sakumo added casually—
"You favor a single-edge dominant stance. Right hand priority."
Daito's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You were watching."
"I observe everyone."
The air grew heavier.
Tasao and Zumi watched from a distance.
Amused.
Concerned.
"Who's the better swordsman?" Sakumo asked calmly.
Daito answered without hesitation.
"I don't waste motion."
Sakumo smiled faintly.
"Neither do I."
SHLING!
Steel sang as both men casually unsheathed their blades halfway.
Not attacking.
But measuring.
Their auras weren't explosive.
They were concentrated.
Lethality without noise.
Two predators in controlled proximity.
Before anything escalated—
An intercom voice echoed through the chamber.
"Both of you. Boss's office. Immediately."
They resheathed their weapons in sync.
No words exchanged.
But the tension remained.
* * *
The Boss's office was quiet.
Minimal.
Cold.
The Woman in White stood beside the desk.
Tasao leaned against the wall.
Zumi stood with arms folded.
Sakumo and Daito entered simultaneously.
The Boss didn't look up at first.
Then finally—
He spoke one name.
"A.B.I.G.A.I.L."
The room temperature dropped emotionally.
Sakumo's expression changed first.
Subtle.
But visible.
Daito didn't move.
He didn't blink.
But inside—
Memory flashed.
The overwhelming presence.
The inhuman power.
The lesson.
The near defeat.
The Boss continued.
"He is stirring again."
Silence.
"Energy fluctuations detected."
"Not random."
"Intentional."
Both Sakumo and Daito understood what that meant.
Tasao muttered quietly, "That thing again…"
The Boss leaned forward slightly.
"You both exude lethality."
"You both chase excellence."
"You both believe you stand near the top."
Then he said it plainly.
"Against A.B.I.G.A.I.L, you are still children."
The words landed heavily.
Not insulting.
Accurate.
For the first time since entering—
Daito and Sakumo looked at each other.
* * *
Outside the office—
The Dreamers waited.
Inside—
Two swordsmen stood humbled.
One name had done what ego could not.
It reminded them.
There are monsters beyond ambition.
The next morning, the training hall was sealed.
No spectators.
No interruptions.
Just steel and silence.
In the center stood two men.
Daito Greyhell
and
Sakumo S. Sagase
The rest of the Dreamers watched from the upper balcony.
Tasao leaned against a pillar.
Zumi folded his arms.
The Woman in White observed without blinking.
This wasn't ego anymore.
This was preparation.
They bowed slightly.
Not ceremonially.
Respectfully.
Then—
CLANG!
Steel sang.
Sakumo drew both blades in a cross motion so smooth it looked like a single flash.
Daito stepped forward, blade angled low.
First clash—
Lightning-fast.
Sparks scattered across polished flooring.
SLASH!
SWOOSH!
Sakumo's dual strikes came in offset rhythm—left high feint, right low cut.
CLING!
CLANG!
Daito parried the first, redirected the second, countered with a thrust that Sakumo deflected using crossed blades.
Footwork was everything.
SWISHH! SWOOSH!
Sakumo rotated clockwise, constantly shifting angles.
Daito moved linearly—direct, efficient, cutting shortest paths.
Dual blades created pressure.
Single blade created precision.
They increased speed without speaking.
CLING-CLANG!
CLING! SLASH!
Sakumo unleashed a flurry—six strikes in under two seconds. Vertical, diagonal, reverse grip pivot.
Daito blocked four. Slipped past one. The sixth grazed fabric off his shoulder.
STAB! CLANG!
SWOOSH!
Daito responded with a brutal inside cut aimed at Sakumo's rib cage.
SLIDE! CLING!
Sakumo spun backward, blades crossing defensively, boots sliding across the floor.
Their auras sharpened.
No wasted breath.
No flashy movements.
Just masters testing edges.
After several minutes of rapid exchanges—
SWOOSH!
They stopped simultaneously.
Blades inches from each other's throats.
Silence.
Sakumo exhaled once.
"You're efficient."
Daito nodded.
"You're disciplined."
Not compliments.
Acknowledgments.
From that moment, rivalry shifted.
* * *
Later that day, the Boss gathered them all.
A single word illuminated the holo-screen:
Armagoth.
Armagoth
A heavily fortified rogue city-state.
Industrial war economy.
Black-market alchemy labs.
Political assassinations disguised as corporate accidents.
The target appeared next.
High Chancellor Vannian.
Architect of illegal Stimuleigh distribution.
Funding experiments on hybridization.
"The Frevage incident wasn't isolated," the Boss said calmly.
"Armagoth is scaling it."
Silence filled the room.
"This is an assassination mission."
Clean.
Fast.
Final.
The Dreamers and Daito's team would operate jointly.
Two elite units.
One objective.
Sakumo stepped forward.
"Entry?"
"Sub-orbital insertion," the Woman in White replied.
"Nightfall. Industrial district."
Tasao grinned. "So we break things."
"No," she corrected.
"We end one man."
Daito remained quiet.
But inside, something shifted.
This wasn't battlefield chaos.
This was execution.
Precision mattered more than strength.
Before departure, Sakumo approached Daito alone.
"Personal question," he said calmly.
"Why didn't you finish the duel earlier?"
Daito answered without hesitation.
"Because you weren't my enemy."
Sakumo studied him briefly.
"Good."
Pause.
"In Armagoth… don't hesitate."
Daito's gaze sharpened.
"I won't."
Night fell.
The jet engines hummed.
The combined team stood ready.
Eight elite operatives.
Two philosophies of strength.
One target.
As the aircraft lifted into black sky, city lights shrinking beneath them—
Daito looked forward.
Armagoth awaited.
And somewhere in its iron heart—
A man responsible for turning humans into experiments.
This mission would not be loud.
It would not be public.
It would not end with a war cry.
It would end with silence.
Night swallowed Armagoth whole.
Steel towers breathed steam into the sky.
Searchlights scanned methodically.
Drones moved in disciplined grids.
But the infiltration had already begun.
* * *
Eight shadows dropped soundlessly onto a maintenance platform three districts away from the Chancellor's spire.
No explosions.
No theatrics.
Just movement.
Sakumo led the forward pair.
Daito followed half a step behind.
The others split in disciplined silence.
They moved like a surgical incision through the industrial maze.
Security cameras blinked out one by one.
Guards fell without sound.
Doors opened before alarms could breathe.
Within twelve minutes, they stood above the central chamber.
Inside, High Chancellor Vannian addressed a private council.
Tall.
Composed.
Dressed not like a tyrant—but like a professor.
He did not look dangerous.
He looked certain.
"Stability," Vannian was saying calmly, "requires sacrifice."
Holographic maps of walled cities and diseased zones rotated around him.
"The Disorder was inevitable. We simply accelerated what nature intended."
A council member shifted uneasily. "And the Freakers?"
"Evolution under stress," Vannian replied. "Catalyzed."
Daito's jaw tightened.
Sakumo remained motionless.
Then Vannian said something that froze them all.
"You speak as though the NBA is separate from this."
He smiled faintly.
"My great-grandfather, Reverent Nicolas Mirage, helped build it."
The chamber went silent.
On comms, even Tasao stopped breathing.
Vannian continued calmly.
"The NBA was never about protection."
"It was preparation."
"For a larger war."
The council murmured.
"Savagery, sacrifice rituals, alchemic conversion… all stepping stones."
"You think Savages are warriors?"
He smiled.
"They are pawns."
Back at headquarters, the Boss stood up so abruptly his chair slid backward.
"Kill him," he snapped through comms.
"Now. While he's rambling."
Anger.
Real anger.
Daito heard it.
So did Sakumo.
But neither moved immediately.
Because Vannian wasn't panicking.
He wasn't afraid.
He was almost… amused.
"You infiltrated beautifully," he said aloud.
The team froze.
"You can come down now."
Security shutters slammed shut.
Gas flooded lower corridors.
Steel barriers sealed exits.
"This was anticipated."
Black smoke erupted from hidden vents around Vannian's platform.
Thick. Chemical. Obscuring.
Sakumo dropped first.
Daito followed.
They landed as the smoke swallowed the Chancellor completely.
"Thermals blocked!" Zumi reported.
A heavy impact shook the chamber floor.
From within the smoke—
Something massive moved.
The Enhanced Freaker
It stepped out slowly.
Humanoid in shape.
But taller.
Denser.
Skin reinforced with metallic growths.
Eyes glowing unstable violet.
Unlike natural Freakers—
This one wore restraint implants.
Controlled enhancement.
Engineered.
"Test subject Theta-Seven," a distorted speaker voice announced before cutting out.
RWAAARGH!
The creature roared.
And charged.
SWOOSH!
It moved faster than expected.
Too fast for brute reaction alone.
Sakumo and Daito moved without speaking.
Left flank—Sakumo.
Right flank—Daito.
Dual blades and single edge became a flowing pattern.
SWOOSH!
The Freaker swung a reinforced arm like a battering ram.
POW!
Daito deflected low.
SLASH! SLASH!
Sakumo cut high.
The creature regenerated shallow wounds instantly.
"Neck joint!" Sakumo called.
Daito pivoted.
TWIST! CRASH!
The Freaker spun violently, smashing through a support column.
BRRRMM!
SHAKE!
Concrete rained down.
SWOOSH!
SLASH—SLASH!
Sakumo slid beneath falling debris and carved across the Achilles region.
WOOSH!
SLASH!
Daito used a broken steel beam to vault upward and delivered a descending slash across the shoulder plate.
The creature howled.
Regeneration slowed.
"Core is unstable!" Zumi reported over comms.
GRAB!
CRASH!
The Freaker grabbed Sakumo mid-motion and slammed him through a wall.
Daito's eyes sharpened instantly.
He rushed in.
POW!
Left-hand strike to destabilize balance.
STAB!
PSSH!
Right-hand blade thrust deep into exposed collar seam.
GRAB!
STRANGLE!
The Freaker grabbed Daito's throat.
Lifted him.
Sakumo burst back through rubble.
BOOM! SLASH—SLASH!
Both blades crossed in an X—
SPLAT! PSSH!
Severing the creature's grasping arm at the elbow.
Daito landed, rolled, and reengaged.
This time—
They moved perfectly.
Dual blades pressured high and midline.
Single blade attacked structural joints.
CLING! CLANG! CLING!
Three synchronized strikes.
Neck.
Rib seam.
Spine.
PSSH! BRZZZZTLE!
"RROOAAGH!"
The Enhanced Freaker convulsed violently.
Then split apart under combined force.
BOOM!
SWOOSH!
Silence followed.
Heavy breathing.
Broken chamber.
Empty platform.
The black smoke thinned.
Vannian was gone.
Emergency tunnel breach detected.
He had escaped during the chaos.
The Boss's voice returned over comms.
Furious.
"You let him slip!"
Daito stared at the shattered chamber.
Sakumo wiped blood from his blade.
"He planned this."
"Yes," Daito replied quietly.
"And he's not afraid."
The mission objective had failed.
But something more dangerous had been uncovered.
The NBA's origin.
Preparation for a greater war.
Savagery as a stepping stone.
to be continued.....