"You know why you're here."The general's voice was sharp, cold.
He flipped through a folder without really looking — he already knew what was inside. Each page just reminded him of how much trouble Derek had caused.
"All the reckless stunts, disobeying orders, and the chaos you've made…" He exhaled, shaking his head. "Those explosives could've blown you into little pieces flying across the damn sky."
The folder slammed shut with a thud. The general leaned forward, giving Derek a hard stare."I don't think you belong here anymore — maybe not ever."
He sighed, the anger fading into disappointment. "You could've been something great… if you just followed the damn rules."
Then came the final blow."This is it. Your official discharge. Effective immediately. You're done. No appeals, no second chances."
He pointed at the door. "Get the hell out of my office — and don't give me a reason to ever hear your name again."
A Year Later
It's been a year since his discharge.Derek's apartment looked like it survived a hurricane — clothes everywhere, ramen cups stacked like trophies, and dust thick enough to write on.
He made money the dirty way: underground street fights. Bets, blood, and chaos — right up his alley. But Derek wasn't like the others. He couldn't feel pain. Literally. His nerves were numb to everything.
Hospitals knew his face too well. He'd walk in with broken ribs, a fractured jaw, maybe a bullet graze — and still joke around like it was a hangover.
Now, he worked as a janitor in a mall. Decent pay, boring as hell. To him, the whole place was just a big air-conditioned box.
Still, it beat waking up in a hospital bed.
"Excuse me, sir. May I ask where I can find the hardware store?" an old lady asked politely.
"Yeah," Derek said, scratching his head. "Second floor. When you see the gadget store, turn right."
"Thank you, young man."
"...Young man? I don't even look that young." he muttered, sighing as he sat on the cold floor and unwrapped his egg sandwich.
"My ass is freezing," he said between chews. Then grinned to himself. "Could this day get any more chaotic? Just how I like it."
"Rough day, bro?"
Derek looked over his shoulder. It was Mark, his co-worker, smiling as usual.
"What is it now, Mark?" Derek groaned.
"Just checkin' on you. Damn, this shift's killing me."
"Yeah, tell me about it. Feels worse than boot camp. At least there, I could make some chaos."
"Boot camp?" Mark blinked. "You were in the military?"
"Yup."
"Whoa, for real? What happened?"
Derek leaned back, thinking. "You don't wanna hear it."
"Oh, come on, man."
He shrugged. "Being a soldier ain't what I thought it'd be. I signed up for war — for the noise, the fire, the blood. Instead, I got patrols and paperwork."
Mark laughed awkwardly. "Uh, right… cool story, man. That's… really you, huh?"
"Yup." Derek grinned, unbothered.
Mark stood up. "Anyway, lunch's over. Time to mop hell again."
Later, as Derek walked out of the mall, the automatic doors hissed open. The cold night wind hit his face, carrying city noise — cars, chatter, and music from the superclub across the street.
He stared at it. "Tsk. If only I had the cash…"
The city around him was full of kids forced into dreams their parents picked — doctors, engineers, the usual six-digit fantasy. Derek didn't care for that crap. All he ever wanted was chaos — war, destruction, something real.
Then he heard it — the sharp screech of tires.
A black car drifted hard around the corner and came speeding straight toward him. He barely dodged it.
"Shit! Hey! Watch where you're going, jackass!"
The car slammed into a wall. The crowd screamed, phones out instantly. Derek scowled. "Good for him."
Then he yelled again, "HEY!!" and marched toward the wreck.
The driver — a man in a suit — panicked when Derek yanked the door open. "Wait! You gotta help me! They're after me!"
"What? You high or something?"
"No! They're chasing me!"
"Yeah, 'cause you drive like a psycho!"
"No—listen—!"
Before the guy could explain, another roar echoed from the street. Three monster trucks came charging around the corner, passengers in ski masks leaning out with rifles.
Gunfire erupted. Bullets tore into the wrecked car. Sparks flew.
Derek didn't even flinch. He slid into the car beside the man."So you're not crazy?"
"OF COURSE I'M NOT CRAZY!"
"You got any weapons?"
The man yanked open the glove box and pulled out a Glock.
Derek stared at it. "A pistol? Against that?"
"I didn't bring my rifles, okay?! I thought it was gonna be a chill night!"
Derek took the gun from his hand. "Alright. I'll handle it."
The man's eyes widened. "What the hell are you doing?!"
Derek grinned. "Stepping into the spotlight."
"ARE YOU CRAZY?!"
But Derek was already out the door, running head-on into the firefight. Bullets whizzed past, tearing through the air.
By the time the nearest gunman shouted "Reloading—!" Derek was already behind him.Bang. One down.He spun, fired again.Bang. Two.
"HAHAHA! This is so fun!" he screamed, laughing like it was a game.
He spotted a box of explosives in one of the trucks and smirked."Oh, hell yeah."
He grabbed a few grenades, yanked the pins with his teeth, and tossed them like baseballs.
"WATCH OUT FOR THE BOMB, BOYS!!"
The explosions rocked the street — BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! — fire lighting up the night as the trucks blew apart.
From the crashed car, the suited man stared in shock. "That kid's even crazier than me…"
One gunman survived, barely. He was crawling away, missing half a leg. Derek walked up behind him, rifle raised.
"P-please… don't…"
Derek's voice was calm. "Should I feel sorry for you?"
"I-I'm just doing this for a living, man… please…"
He chuckled. "Yeah. I used to say the same thing. But now? I like wiping my face with my enemies' blood."
The gunman cried out—Bang.
Silence.
The man in the suit stepped out of the car slowly, shaking. "H-hey, uh… thanks for saving me, man."
Derek said nothing.
The man forced a smile, pulling a black card from his coat pocket. It had a skull logo and a number on it.
"You're… uh… my kind of guy," the man said nervously. "Call this number if you ever wanna do something… a little more exciting. Name's Tasaki Shinji."
Derek took the card and glanced at it.
"…The Phantom, huh?"