Chapter 156: Buster’s Past (2)

Chapter 156

The night air trembled with the roar of explosions and the crack of gunfire along the deserted transport route. Flames danced through the wreckage as the Enforcers were slaughtered one by one — not in battle, but in a one-sided massacre.

They were up against Death itself.

Even the greatest heroes of the realm feared this man. What chance did mere Enforcers have?

From within a battered van, Brandon watched the chaos unfold, the battlefield lit with fire and despair. When a brief opening appeared in the conflict, he didn’t hesitate. He burst out of the van, sprinting into the smoke-filled road.

But he wasn’t alone.

One of the Enforcers spotted him and gave chase immediately. With blade and blaster in hand, the man hunted him with a chilling focus, relentlessly attacking as Brandon zigzagged through the ruins. It was as if the Enforcer had been given one mission — to end Brandon’s life.

Brandon didn’t know why. Maybe a bounty was on his head. Maybe it was personal. It didn’t matter now.

At a sharp bend in the road, Brandon suddenly stopped. The Enforcer rounded the corner in hot pursuit — only to find Brandon standing directly in front of him.

A shot rang out.

But Brandon was faster. He knocked the gun away just before the trigger was pulled. The bullet missed by inches, and the two crashed to the ground, locked in a vicious struggle.



It was a deadly tug-of-war — one weapon, two desperate men, and one grim truth: the first to fire would live. The other would die.

Gritting his teeth, Brandon fought with everything he had, but his injuries slowed him down. The Enforcer managed to wrench the weapon free and fired.

Bang!

The bullet tore through Brandon’s lower abdomen. Blood sprayed across the dirt, and pain exploded in his nerves. But he didn’t fall.

Brandon’s face twisted with fury. He grabbed the Enforcer’s head and — with one last surge of strength — twisted it with a sickening snap. The Enforcer’s body slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Victory — but it came at a terrible cost.

Brandon collapsed, gasping, blood pouring from the massive wound in his gut. Half his stomach was gone, ripped open by the blast. Any ordinary man would be dead. But Brandon was Awakened. He wouldn’t die — not immediately.

Still, without help, death was near.

He crawled forward, dragging his ruined body across the gravel and mud. His vision blurred. His hands trembled. But his mind burned with a single purpose:

Revenge.

Cassie had betrayed him. Simon was dead. His grandmother was still out there — alone. Helpless.

He couldn’t die yet.

Through the darkness and rain, Brandon saw it — a structure half-buried in the rocky hills ahead. A cave? No, more than that. A temple.

At the entrance stood two eerie statues — a man and a woman crossed together in an ’X’ formation, both pierced through the chest by a long spear. Their mouths were open in eternal agony.

Brandon barely registered it.

He crawled inside, step by painful step, until the shadows swallowed him whole.

Seconds passed. Or minutes. Maybe hours. Time lost meaning. Blood loss took its toll.

Then, finally... nothing.

Darkness consumed him.

He drifted in an endless void, the silence heavier than any wound. He chuckled bitterly.

So this was it. The end. No revenge. No justice. Just death in the dark.

But then...

A ripple.

From the endless void emerged a figure — cloaked in crimson shadow, its body formless, its presence terrifying.

Brandon’s heart pounded. He wasn’t just scared — he was terrified.

The creature stared at him with glowing, abyssal eyes — no face, no mouth, only a voice that echoed straight into Brandon’s soul.

> "What would you do," the entity asked, its voice deep and cold, "if you were given the power to do anything you wished... to those who wronged you?"

Images flashed before Brandon’s eyes — Cassie, smiling beside the judge. The betrayal. The pain. The injustice.

He clenched his fists.

"I’d make them suffer," he hissed. "Worse than death. I’d tear their lives apart. I’d show them a hell they could never imagine."

His voice grew more unhinged as he poured out hatred and rage, describing horrors he would unleash if only he had the power. Vengeance consumed him — no morality, no mercy.

Only rage.

One Eternity Later...

The faceless entity floated in the abyss, its glowing eyes fixed on Brandon — not just watching, but consuming.

Brandon rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, voice barely above a whisper.

"Sorry. I got... carried away."

He opened his mouth to explain further, but the creature spoke first — a deep, cosmic voice that echoed inside Brandon’s bones:

> "You are a worthy candidate. Will you receive power unlike any other? With each fulfilled duty, you will grow stronger — and stronger still... until no one stands above you."

Brandon’s eyes flicked with uncertainty.

But before he could answer, the entity’s eyes burst outward into a wave of shadow, drowning him in pure black.

He screamed.

Agony clawed at every fiber of his being, as if his soul was melting and reforging itself into something monstrous.

Then — silence.

The void. The voice. Gone.

---

In the Physical World...

Thunder rolled across a weeping sky.

Brandon’s body, broken and bloodied, lay still — forgotten.

Then — crack.

His back arched violently as a crimson ’X’ flared to life, pierced by a black spear. His eyes snapped open, glowing dimly... ominously.

He had returned.

But Brandon was no longer the same.

---

Several Days Later – Outskirts of the City

Rain pattered gently on the wide glass windows of a luxury apartment tucked away on the edge of the city.

Inside, soft lights glowed. Music played low. Everything smelled like warmth and wine.

A knock echoed on the door.

Kelly, a sharp-eyed woman with long black hair, crossed the living room and opened it.

Standing in the rain was a tall man, casual smile on his face, short dark hair slicked back.

"Hey there," he said.

Kelly smiled. "Cassie."

She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him.

Cassie pulled her in tighter, lips brushing her ear. "Missed me?"

Instead of answering, Kelly kissed him — slow, deep, like a fuse being lit.

Cassie closed the door behind them as their lips found each other again. His hands ran along her waist as he lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the large couch.

He looked at her — not just with lust, but with something heavy in his eyes. Desire, yes. But also obsession. Possession.

They fell into the cushions, his fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt. Her hands pulled him in again. Their bodies molded like they’d done this a thousand times before.

The room was filled with warmth — then.

Knock.

Kelly’s head tilted.

Cassie kept kissing.

She pulled back. "Someone’s at the door."

Cassie sighed, annoyed. "Ignore it. Just the rain."

But the knock had been too clear.

Kelly insisted, so with an eye-roll, Cassie pushed off the couch and walked to the door.

He opened it.

Nothing.

Rain. Wind. Emptiness.

Cassie muttered under his breath and closed it, returning to Kelly.

He peeled off his shirt and rejoined her, kissing her neck, fingers sliding lower.

Then —

Knock.

Again.

This time Kelly bolted upright. "Cassie, someone is there."

Cassie growled. "If some idiot’s playing games—"

He stomped to the door and flung it open.

Again: no one.

Cassie grumbled and slammed it shut. He turned back toward Kelly, now stripped to his boxers, and climbed onto the couch, unfastening her last piece of clothing—

Knock.

Sharper. Louder. Close.

Kelly gasped and turned toward the door.

Cassie stood up fast, his body tense now with real anger. "Enough."



He stormed over, yanked the door open—

And froze.

Kelly’s breath caught.

Framed in the doorway, half-shrouded in rain and shadow, stood Brandon.

Soaked. Still. Eyes burning red with fury.

Cassie stared. Then narrowed his gaze. "You should’ve stayed dead."

His hands lit up with energy — silver light bleeding from his fingertips as metallic blades extended from his knuckles.

"You think you can just crawl back from the grave?" he sneered, stepping forward. "You’re still a C-ranker, Brandon. I’m an A-ranker. This time — you die for good."

With a snap of his wrist, the blades elongated — five gleaming fingers of death.

Cassie charged, blades flashing like silver lightning.

But to his shock—

Brandon didn’t move.

The blades struck him dead on—driving into his chest—

But only an inch deep.

The steel stopped, trembling.

Cassie’s eyes widened. What?

Then—

Snap! Crack!

Brandon’s hand clamped down on Cassie’s arm with bone-shattering force.

"Aagh—!"

Cassie couldn’t even finish the scream.

The shock overwhelmed the pain.

Snap! Crack!

Brandon broke the other arm too—twisting it until bones snapped like twigs.

Cassie collapsed to his knees, helpless.

No blades. No powers. No hope.

Then came the scream—

Raw, guttural, animal.

Cassie had never known pain like this.

But Brandon wasn’t finished.

He grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air like a rag doll, rain pouring down in streaks behind him.

"W-Wait!" Cassie choked out, his voice desperate.

"I can explain! I swear—I didn’t mean—"

Brandon stared at him coldly.

Expressionless. Voice flat.

> "Your time to explain is over.

Now... it’s your time to die."

With no hesitation, Brandon ripped his throat out—flesh, muscle, windpipe and all.

Cassie’s body dropped to the floor with a sickening thud, twitching once before going still.

Brandon looked down at the corpse with disgust.

Then turned to the last witness.

---

Kelly.

She sat frozen on the couch, trembling.

Her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t move.

Brandon stepped toward her slowly, every footstep echoing like a drumbeat of doom.

"You knew," he said, his voice like a winter wind.

"You knew everything he did, didn’t you?"

Kelly nodded, lips quivering.

She did. She helped Cassie frame Brandon.

She helped bury the truth about Cassie’s illegal dealings .

They thought they were safe.

They were wrong.

Brandon stepped close.

"Rest in peace, Kelly."

He brought his hands together—then slammed them against her skull.

PAK!

Her head exploded in a burst of blood, bone, and brain matter.

Silence.

Only rain against the windows.

Brandon stood there, staring at the two lifeless bodies.

The people he once called brother and sister.

He didn’t feel sorrow.

Only satisfaction.

"They all deserved it," he muttered.

Then he turned and walked out into the rain.

---

But it wasn’t over.

Over the next few months, Brandon became a ghost in the night—

A vengeful executioner.

He wiped out the judge who sealed his fate.

And the judge’s entire family.

He hunted down every associate who profited from Cassie’s betrayal—

Men, women, children—none were spared.

Even Cassie and Kelly’s families—innocent or not—were dragged into the bloodbath.

Brandon’s belief was simple:

> If they benefited from the crime,

If they stayed silent,

If they looked away—

Then they were guilty.

And they would die.

Old, young. Kind, cruel.

All of them. Slaughtered.

---

Time passed.

And something inside Brandon changed.

What began as vengeance...

...became a habit.

A craving.

A hunger.

He started killing even the innocent.

He told himself it was justice.

But deep down, he knew:



He wasn’t Brandon Frontier anymore.

He had become something else.

---

> A researcher turned avenger.

An avenger turned executioner.

An executioner turned monster.

And as the old Brandon died,

A new name was born in blood—

> Buster, the leader of the Smashers.

To Be Continued...

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