Kitae Kim, a wounded lion on the edge of unconsciousness, laughed—his voice sharp-pitched and full of fervour. The sight was menacing to all that lay witness, his body a canvas of broken bone and red. So much red it could cloud someone's vision.
Apollo looked at Kitae Kim, his eyes narrowed in frustration. He clenched his right hand, his body wrecked from the pain—yet fuelled by will alone, he walked forward. His steps contained the assurance of a victory. One he had so barely clenched.
Apollo glanced at the broken Kitae, his blood pulsed with anger as he looked at the man. 'I could have died today.' His eyebrows furrowed together. His eyes darkened, unlike his reverse eyes which had disappeared ever since he returned from that state. They carried a void—one threatening to lash out.
Apollo's forehead had dark lines etched onto it. 'He would have killed me here... Why shouldn't I do the same?'Kitae Kim could have taken it all—his dreams, his motivation. He could have been the end of his story.
'So why shouldn't I?' His right hand moved on its own, clutching Kitae's neck.
"I should kill you right now," he muttered, his body overtaken by the surge of negative emotions.
'I have already died once—and for once, I was happy, and yet you tried to take it away from me.' His thoughts spiralled into chaos, unlike how Apollo ever used to act.
His hand clenched tighter—his fingers digging into the firm yet fragile neck of Kitae Kim. The man coughed, yet Apollo revelled in his discomfort—a twisted sense borne from his negative emotions.
His mind flashed images—of Hansu's wife, who treated him with care and love he hadn't experienced in his previous life; of his friends, who stuck with him through thick and thin; of his mentor, who poured every bit of knowledge and set an example of kindness.
Apollo lowered his eyes, his gaze vacant and tired—melancholy. 'Had I died today, I wouldn't have been able to spend time with them anymore... The first time I have experienced happiness.' His vacant eyes grew darker, shining with malevolence. His expression twisted into disgust.
'You tried to take a life I cherish... So I will do the same to you.'
His hands tightened their hold. Kitae tried to push them away, but his body had too little strength left. Kitae glanced in shock. 'I am... about to die?' He tried to move, to fight back, but his body felt lifeless. His strength left him like wisps of smoke.
His vision turned hazy. His breath stopped. His life barely dangled by the edge of a thread. He took one look at Apollo—at the lines that made up his anger-fuelled face, the ferocity in his eyes.
'Pray to the gods that I don't make it out alive—otherwise it would be the end of you, Apollo Rayden.'
His eyes slowly closed. Kitae Kim had fallen unconscious—yet Apollo's grip didn't loosen. His aim had been to kill him from the start.
The man had drowned too deep in his hatred to notice something peculiar, his focus entirely situated on the son of Gapryoung Kim.
That was until his senses rang out. His breath paused for a second. The air on his arms rose. 'My right side.' His eyes darted, taking in the scene. Apollo's eyes widened as he saw a kick approaching. His broken body, too tired to move, could only tighten, hoping to tank the attack.
A boom resounded in the area as Apollo was rag-dolled through the debris, the gravel sticking to his skin like ants to a hive. His body had already been on the edge of unconsciousness—it was his will that kept him awake.
His eyes looked in shock at the figure who had just entered the fray. A shiver ran amok his back as he stared at the unknown factor that had just entered.
A black shirt clung to his body, adorning and glorifying his lean physique. His hair, a dazzling red—as if flames flickered at their tips. His eyes shined with ambition and a touch of mirth.
His entire presence was shrouded in mystery. His eyes gleamed in the sun—locked directly on Apollo.
"So you are the one he was talking about." His voice was calm and composed, his eyes twinkling as he looked at him. "To think you defeated Kitae Kim... I have to admit, you've exceeded my expectations of the First Generation."
Apollo coughed, his hands gripping the cement as he forced himself back up. His legs trembled under the weight of his will. His eyes locked onto the future 'One Man Circle'... The peak.
"James Lee," he muttered, his voice low, barely a whisper.
Yet James Lee heard it. His eyes widened in shock—he had yet to make an appearance in the world, after all.
"How do you know of me?" he questioned, his voice accusatory, his eyes narrowed.
Apollo smirked as he looked at the man. "There aren't many things that I don't know, Mr. Lee. It would be best if you let me finish my job now."
He moved, dragging his body toward the unconscious Kitae. His eyes enraged the moment they landed on the man. 'He will die—by my hands.'
His figure grew closer to the man. The Kingslayer.
Yet a lean figure interrupted his stride, standing merely a few inches apart.
"Want some?" he spoke, smirking.
Apollo looked down, his eyes landing on the lollipop James had offered him. He smirked, remembering a certain moment.
'I certainly don't have any tanghulu.' Apollo smirked. "I prefer chicken."
He coughed, his body worsening by the second as he tried to move forward. Yet a hand stopped him in his path.
"I'm afraid I can't let you—after all, he's important to my plan," James Lee spoke. His words were a clear challenge to Apollo.
Apollo's gaze darkened... yet James continued—smiling cunningly.
"After all, I can just cripple you here. Less trouble for my plan."
His voice- full of mockery and mirth.