underground figths.

The madness of the entire plan ended up punishing the revolutionary Laurent. In a fit of madness, a worm-like creature appeared in his inner eyelids, a corrupt form of insanity, using Chinese martial arts styles. It was one of the concoctions of the creator behind the scenes, Edward Wu, used to promote his military plans in the market.

It was also a Worn plan, seeking to experiment with different types of subjects. African subjects have different DNA, responding to a new idea, like their impact on Mongolian groups.

But the plan didn't work, and activating the Clan Kure against his back wasn't advisable. Edward decided to abandon Laurent and leave him in solitude, while military bands continued to hunt him down. The apparatus moved through the shadows.

The African commander prepared himself, his body tensing as he combined the mantis style. A slender person with scarce resources, he had to earn a living never knowing if the next day would be his last. Recruited into the army, corrupted by society, Edward took care to break down remnants of rationality.

-They've arrived, - Laurent commented, seeing himself surrounded on all fronts by members of the Clan Kure, the Wolf Clan, and Muteba. Closing the bible in his hands, he dedicated one last prayer; his death was merely fulfilling the organization's will.

The Clan's vice was evident; their sword was fearsome and their strikes could pierce the ground. The boar attacked with such force that the expert could do nothing but engage in a flurry of blows flashing between opponents. Laurent lowered his center of gravity and broke through with swift movements that nicked Kure Horio's cheek.

Horio countered with a ground scraper, a leg sweep that could unbalance the opponent for a follow-up, delivering a powerful blow with his whole body, sending Laurent flying. As the poison implanted in Laurent's palm began to take effect, the venomous palm technique was taken to the extreme.

For the past twenty years, he had used the world's most dangerous poisons and placed them in his arms, heating them to a cold temperature. The entire process took two hours, without fail, using the ritual to create the world's deadliest poisoned palm. That's why they called him the Bloody Hand; it was a special poison causing hallucinations, tears of blood, and eventually, loss of senses, combining venom from the Amazonian yellow toad, black mamba, and golden scorpion, diluted and modified for combat. Laurent was one of the few who survived such a plan.

-My palms contain the most vile poison. When your blood cells swell like balloons and burst, - Gbagbo commented, in typical Worn madness.

Unfortunately for him, Kure Horio had that information beforehand and had an antidote, created from samples of Gbagbo's victims. It could double the time in battle before needing treatment.

-Your first mistake wasn't knowing the limits, - Horio murmured, finishing off the soldier. Even after all the years of training, facing so many fronts couldn't have been good. The city lay in ruins, and some inhabitants hid in their homes.

-HAHAHAHAHA! - Gbagbo laughed like a madman. His last thought was the explosion in all cities. Worn would prevail, creating environments conducive to evolving the human race. Only conflict evolves people; mercenaries who fight to perfect themselves, fighters are and will be those who lead humanity to the peak, an era where superhumans become a normal race.

The other Tokita Niko watched his experiment with satisfaction. His eyes approved of the death and the data. Laurent had shown him how to enhance power in older individuals through medicine and technology, amplifying genes like venom resistance under less-than-scrupulous conditions. A sadistic smile played on his face, a gesture of madness.

-Senzui, just as we planned, our pawns are inciting conflict, hiring mercenaries and others. Not very smart of them. I think we can amplify the conflict across multiple zones until our organizations take charge, or do you want the credit as always? - the other Niko said, madness coloring his voice.

-It doesn't matter if the plebeians die. That's inconsequential, - Senzui remarked, walking away. Niko frowned, knowing Senzui was formidable; in battle, he would either die or be severely injured, needing assistance. For now, it was best to strengthen ties between Worn and Yami. Saiga particularly despised the other Niko.

Senzui tossed a talisman shaped like a cloud, for a cloud never takes shape, akin to the other Niko's style. - You'll need a disciple to enter. I hope you attend the meetings and train the legacy, Kano Sho. -

-I'll have a disciple. The 'gu' will soon be complete. I have a hundred specimens; only the best will join the organization, - the other Niko said Machiavellianly, always following his instincts above all else, much to their misfortune, as they were unaware of the connector.

-The 'gu'? - he asked, having an inkling of what was being discussed but still needing to ask.

The other Niko's smile widened.

Luckily for Kei, he used movements from Chinese Kempo and boxing when the other Niko observed him, but Worn was present, and many agents saw him use the known katas when the cameras focused on him. His fighting style was forgotten as just another fighter his age with exceptional characteristics.

***

-I'm changing schools, Grandpa, - Miu Furinji commented. She was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful woman many had seen, hiding her appearance behind glasses, tied-back hair, and oversized uniforms. She wanted to leave her old school and join Kyorko High School for two significant reasons.

-If it's your path, I won't deny you. You're a good girl, - Hayato Furinji remarked, the invincible Superman.

-Well, I've prepared dinner. This school is closer to home and might be beneficial for doing household chores, - Miu Furinji said with her usual innocence.

The dojo was set, and the five grandmasters, super masters, were all seated, wasting time while some prepared for martial practice to refine their already excessive skills.

...