Bang!
The first shot barely missed Bunnyman's shoulder, ripping through a metal beam behind him. Skull Mask's aim wasn't sloppy — it was intentional. A warning shot.
"I'm not here to kill you yet, Rabbit," Skull Mask said, walking forward with graceful precision, pistols at the ready. "This is a conversation… with consequences."
Bunnyman lunged in — fists first.
He dodged a bullet by inches and crashed into Skull Mask's ribs with a powerful punch, sending the masked dealer staggering back. He didn't waste a second — a spinning kick followed, cracking against Skull Mask's side.
But Skull Mask didn't fall.
Instead, he laughed.
"I knew you were fast," he said, wiping blood from the edge of his lips. "But you're too emotional. That's your weakness."
He dashed in, much faster than Bunnyman expected. A feint — then a strike to the jaw.
Then another.
Then a shot fired right at Bunnyman's thigh.
Pain.
Immediate, sharp, burning.
Bunnyman dropped to one knee, gritting his teeth.
"See?" Skull Mask's voice dipped into something colder. "You let your feelings guide you. That makes you predictable."
Bunnyman forced himself up — fought through the pain — and tackled Skull Mask into a pillar. They crashed hard, the pistols flying out of Skull Mask's hands.
Now it was fist-to-fist.
And for a moment, Bunnyman had the upper hand.
But Skull Mask was talking again.
"You think you're fixing this city?" he hissed, dodging a punch. "You're just another freak in a costume. They'll forget you the second you disappear."
"Shut up!" Bunnyman barked, his punches growing sloppier.
Skull Mask grinned behind the porcelain smile. "No family. No legacy. No purpose. You're just rage in a bunny mask."
That hit harder than any punch.
Bunnyman hesitated. Just for a second.
That was all Skull Mask needed.
A hidden blade flashed from his glove — slicing across Bunnyman's side.
Then a punch to the gut. A knee to the face.
Bunnyman stumbled.
Skull Mask didn't stop.
He unleashed a calculated beatdown — fast, surgical strikes to joints, pressure points, and weak spots. The kind of precision that came from training and experience.
Bunnyman hit the floor.
Hard.
Blood dripped from his mouth.
"See?" Skull Mask whispered, crouching beside him. "This city doesn't need a savior. It needs an owner."
He stood and picked up one of his pistols — aiming it directly at Bunnyman's head.
But he didn't shoot.
Instead, he holstered the gun and stepped back.
"This was never about killing you," he said. "It's about showing you the truth. And now... you've seen it."
Then, without another word, Skull Mask walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the warehouse.
Bunnyman lay broken on the cold floor.
Alone.
Beaten.
And angrier than ever.