"Who... is that?"
The desert remained silent for several long seconds, every eye fixed on Adam’s small figure. His green eyes cut through the beige wasteland like emeralds against sand, made more striking by the harsh light behind him and the way his long hair framed his face.
With his collar covering half his face, those eyes and his silhouette were all anyone could see.
Well, that and his five-foot-four frame.
"Pft." And as soon as they realized that, one of the veterans started to laugh. Then another snickered.
"Bwahahaha!" The men who’d been ready to assault the woman were all laughing now, their fear evaporating as they sweat on the sand as they took in Adam’s actual size.
"Are you fucking serious?" One of them straightened up, his weapon still drawn. "This little shit thinks he can intimidate us?"
They turned away from the veteran woman and her companion completely, focusing their attention on Adam. The other veterans around them shifted nervously, but these veteran... thugs advanced at him without care now.
One of them stepped forward even further, pointing at him.
"Who the hell do you think you’re trying to intimidate with your scrawny ass and that big fucking—Gkh?!"
The man never finished his sentence.
Adam moved without warning, crossing the distance between them in a blur. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around the veteran’s throat, lifting him clean off the sand. The man’s eyes bulged as his feet kicked uselessly in the air.
"W—"
And before anyone could react, Adam drove the pommel of the Shion directly into the man’s liver. The veteran’s body went limp instantly, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as his body just shut down there and then.
Adam held him in the air for a moment, his eyes scanning the other thugs. Then, with a sigh, he gently lowered the unconscious man to the sand, placing him down carefully even after what he had just done to him.
And he didn’t even say a word. Just turned around, walked back to his spot, and sat down.
The remaining veteran thugs stared at their fallen comrade, then at each other. One of them gripped his weapon tighter, nudging another with his elbow and urging them to attack Adam.
"Come on," he whispered. "There’s four of us left. It’s just one dude."
"...One dude with a big ass sword. Don’t you watch anime?"
But none of them moved. How could they? Adam treated one of them like a child. But most importantly, he didn’t even hesitate to knock him out at all.
...And then he gently placed him on the sand? What was with that? They all thought—Adam was probably a psycho.
They looked at each other again, waiting for someone else to make the first move. When no one did, they clicked their tongues in frustration and slowly sheathed their weapons.
"This isn’t over," one of them muttered. And since they couldn’t glare at Adam, they backed up to the veteran woman they’d been threatening. "We’ll remember your faces when we become Heroes."
Another spat in the sand, his eyes fixed on the trembling crowd. They started to walk away, only to stop just three steps later when Adam finally spoke again.
"Stay."
The single word froze them in place. They turned back, only to see Adam glaring at them.
"Ignore him." One of them took another step away, and Adam’s hand moved to his weapon...
...and finally drew it.
The sound of the Shion leaving its sheath was unlike anything they’d ever heard. It rang out like a bell made of light itself, the blade catching the sun and throwing it back right at their eyes.
The weapon looked like a strip of pure radiance, perhaps due to its completely black spine that disappeared entirely against the bright sky.
The veterans’ skin crawled. Every hair on their necks stood up as the sun’s reflection covered their faces. They stared at the blade, almost blinded by it, and felt something stir inside their guts, wanting to come out.
They wanted to do something. Fight. Run.
But they couldn’t. Their legs wouldn’t move.
"S-shit..." Slowly, reluctantly, they huddled back together and sat down in the sand.
They’d initially dismissed Adam as some rich kid playing dress-up, but the way he’d handled their friend, the weapon he carried—this wasn’t someone they wanted to test.
He was probably just one step away from becoming a Hero himself, and had made contributions to his team more than any of them combined... that could also mean he’s killed more than them combined.
Adam stared at them for a long moment, and when he was sure they weren’t planning anything, he slid the Shion back into its sheath. He placed the weapon across his lap, afraid sand might get in, and looked at the veterans again before sighing quietly to himself.
Can’t... believe it worked.
In truth, while he appeared calm and controlled on the outside, his mind was screaming.
It worked. They... really did stop.
His entire appearance, the intimidating armor, the massive sword, him taking down one of the troublemakers—all of it had been a performance.
He’d realized it during his training with Clementine, when he’d caught sight of himself holding that great slab of steel. He looked dangerous. Intimidating enough that even he was afraid of himself.
He realized that he could do the same thing Sylvie did in the last Game. When the Duelist of Rose had appeared and demonstrated her power, everyone had frozen.
No one wanted to fight her.
Even though he knew this was just his pathetic attempt at avoiding more violence, that it would fall apart the moment they saw him vulnerable, for now it worked.
The people would fear him. Hate him. But that was the point. It didn’t matter if he was despised, as long as... everyone stayed safe.
He sighed again, nodding subtly to himself. More time passed, and then—
[Troops deployed!]
And soon, the Administrator’s voice signaled the start of the carnage... and it confirmed what everyone dreaded.
No Hero.