Chapter 48: Who created 84 ?
Earlier
Roy called the soldier that went aside, lowering his voice to keep the conversation private.
"Fuck... but does he look like he can fight?"
"Honestly..." the soldier hesitated. "He can’t. Maybe for a few minutes, but he wouldn’t take another attack—not even a punch."
"Shit. If only they weren’t upgrading the Alien Eliminators..." Roy paused, a sharp breath catching in his chest. "Hold on. I’ll call Veteran for backup."
He ended the call and went straight to his contacts, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it wanted to tear free. It had been a long time since he’d felt this tense. Every breath stabbed his throat.
"What is this bad feeling?"
he thought. No matter how I try, I can’t shake it off. Just hold a little longer, Zabi. Veteran is coming.
He found the number, labeled playfully: Veteran, my dude. With a shaky swipe, he called him, the backbone of Turtle Companies. And now that they knew he had powers as well, it would take someone overpowered to claim the ten incredible rings Zabi carried.
"Pick up, pick up, damn it!" Roy muttered, shaking his already trembling leg. Wrinkles creased his forehead, unease carved deep. Every ring of the call felt like another minute slipping away.
He had completely forgotten that Veteran hated answering Roy’s calls—usually pointless arguments and stupid debates. But the intensity of the moment wiped that memory clean, like an eraser on pencil.
"Hello."
Veteran answered, sitting slanted in his office, face hidden beneath his helmet. The office resembled the one at Axis Industries, except for the transparent glass walls. His voice was deciphered as always—the same calm tone he had used earlier with Zabi in the car.
"Zabi is in danger. He needs backup," Roy said, faster than he normally spoke.
"Where is he?"
"At the Mutts. He’s badly injured—fought people with superpowers. It’s a long story, just prioritize helping him!" Roy shouted, pleading on Zabi’s behalf.
Silence answered him.
The words superpowers had done it. That secret—kept between them—was now exposed. Zabi’s condition, the one that forced him to use his powers, had to be extreme.
After a few seconds, Veteran finally spoke. Words of hope. The command Roy had been waiting for.
"Don’t worry. I’ll help him."
Veteran stood from his seat as he spoke.
"Okay, thank you—"
The call cut off.
Roy groaned. For once, he tasted his own medicine—the sting of being cut off before a conversation ends.
...
Veteran stood still for a few seconds, staring at the aquarium in his office. Fish of different species swam together perfectly, as one. Who would have thought the leader of a brutal organization loved fish? The irony was almost funny.
"Aaaah," he sighed, loudly—bored, perhaps. Or eager. It was hard to tell with his face hidden behind the helmet.
He lifted a gloved finger and pointed at a small fish with a different pattern of colors. It swam slower than the others, blood trailing behind it from a bite taken by a much larger fish.
"Look at you," Veteran said calmly. "You eat my food, swim in my water... and still wear that frown."
He spoke to the fish as if it could answer.
"Let me help you."
Snap.
His fingers snapped together.
The fish began to expand from the inside, swelling violently, as if an air pump had been forced into its mouth.
Boom.
It exploded.
Blood clouded the water. Eyes, body, and head separated, scattering the surrounding fish in panic.
"That’s better," Veteran said.
His voice had changed—distorted, heavier. Deadlier.
....
Back at the Mutts’ House
Tsssst.!!
The soldier’s earpiece crackled. Roy’s voice came through.
"Stay still. Backup is coming."
This time, Roy sounded calm,relief easing the weight off his chest.
"Uh... sir," the soldier replied. "It’s too late."
He spoke carefully, startled by what had just transpired infront of him.
"What do you mean, what happened?"
The happiness drained instantly by the soulders tone alone.
"He’s... he’s dead."
Roy screamed, "Fuck!"
The sound jolted his kids awake and stirred his neighbors, lights snapping on in irritation. Noise was one thing, but a curse word at that hour was another. A sharp stab at shared morals, one they felt forced to address.
.....
Unknown Location
Inside a pyramid buried in clouds, dust swirled endlessly, whistling through the air and tearing apart what little peace remained.
At one of the highest levels, a hole drowned in darkness opened into a narrow corridor. Genki Rank 84 walked through it, torches flickering weakly along the walls, unable to push back the dark.
"Have you heard the latest news?"
A tempting, familiar voice echoed through the corridor.
"What are you talking about, 32?" 84 muttered as he walked, sounding uninterested.
It was an act, a psychological habit when digging for information.
Unlike the last time he appeared within the boy’s soul, he looked different now. A white jacket. White trousers, baggy near the feet. Clean. Prepared,as if summoned to a formal meeting, a culture they stole from human beings.
"Your human has just been killed by an Executor."
84 froze.
The words struck deep, ripping something open inside him.
And it made sense.
Fifteen years ago, that human had hated the gods. His father had collapsed in a foreign country, fainted, broken, and the shame that followed had crushed him. He prayed. Begged. The gods did nothing.
In that moment, hatred bloomed.
He cursed them with everything he had.
From that hatred, something unnatural was born, a dark force called Anti-Glory. While Glory fed the gods through worship and devotion, Anti-Glory grew through denial, resentment, and blame. Every second of anger strengthened it.
Minutes passed. The energy thickened. It evolved into something completely different and living.
That was the moment Genki Rank 84 was created—an entity forged from a human soul that rejected the gods instead of kneeling to them.
And that human’s name was Zabi.
"So how does that concern me?" 84 said at last, his voice steady as he resumed walking into the darkness. "He’s dead. I’m alive. That’s all that matters."