(Rumi POV)
The men's bath reeked of steam, soap, and trouble.
Jinu moved like he owned the place, all smugness and swagger, sidestepping my opening slash with a grin. My blade hissed through the steam where his face had been a second ago.
"Whoa—watch the face," he said lightly, as if I hadn't just tried to carve it in half.
I slashed again. He ducked, still talking. "I need it to steal your fans."
He landed in a crouch, almost lounging on the wet tile, then snatched up a wooden bucket and hurled it at my head. The bucket spun through the air, water sloshing—
Shhhkk!
My blade split it cleanly, water spraying across the floor in a burst of cold mist.
Before I could reset my stance, he lunged. His hands weren't human anymore—skin still flesh, but ending in claws that glinted in the bathhouse light. The swing was fast, meant to catch me off guard. I twisted away, boots squealing against wet tile.
I went for an overhead strike, putting my full weight into it—only for him to roll aside. I'd overextended, and he saw it. His claws slashed up, catching my arm.
Rrrip!
Pain lanced through me. The leather tore open at the sleeve, exposing pale skin… and the markings beneath.
I hissed through my teeth, clamping my hand over it, but there was no time to dwell. I charged forward, kicking off with a leap.
Red smoke spiraled into the air—his teleport.
I spun midair, anticipating it, and my boot connected with his chest the moment he rematerialized behind me. He hit the wet tile with a grunt.
I landed hard, blade up, and in one step I was on him, pressing the edge down toward his neck. My muscles screamed with the effort, teeth bared as I forced the blade closer.
He strained against it, smile still plastered on his face. "You're strong," he grunted—then his gaze flicked to my arm. The torn sleeve. The markings.
His eyes widened, the grin faltering for just a heartbeat. "…A hunter… who's part demon?"
The words hit like a punch to my gut. My heart stuttered. He'd seen.
I froze.
He shoved, twisting his weight, and I stumbled back. My hand shot up to my arm, trying desperately to cover the markings. My pulse was loud in my ears, my skin cold despite the steam.
He stood slowly, still looking at me like I was something alien.
Before either of us could say more—
CRASH!
The wall to my right exploded inward, wood and tile spraying across the bathhouse. Mira and Zoey staggered through, shin-kal flashing in Zoey's hands, Mira's woldo slicing wide arcs. Behind them—dozens of water demons surged forward, hair hanging in slick ropes, jaws open, yellow eyes glowing.
"Rumi! We need your help!" Mira's voice was strained, boots skidding on the slick floor.
"Rumi!" Zoey's knives sank into a demon's throat before vanishing in a puff of smoke and reappearing in her hands.
"What are you doing? We need you!" Mira barked again, gritting her teeth.
I just… stood there. Frozen. Fear crawled up my spine like cold water. If they saw—if they knew—
Jinu moved first. Not toward them. Toward me.
I flinched—but instead of another attack, his arms wrapped around me in a sudden, spinning motion. The world blurred, and then I was shoved away.
I caught myself on the wall, stunned, and looked back at him. He was already retreating, but now… my arm was wrapped in cloth. My markings hidden.
I stared down at it, dumbfounded, until—
"Rumi! Get in here!" Mira's voice cut through again.
"Rumi! We need you!" Zoey shouted.
I forced myself to move, stepping toward them—
And that's when the air rippled.
It wasn't the teleport shimmer of a demon. This was different—subtle, like heat haze bending reality for a split second before snapping still.
Everyone stopped.
The hunters. The demons. Even Jinu froze, eyes narrowing.
A tall figure now stood at the far end of the room, where moments ago there had been only empty space. Black motorcycle helmet with a tinted visor. Long coat, dark enough to bleed into the steam. The kind of stance that said he wasn't in danger here—we were in his way.
No words. No introduction. Just a slow adjustment of his gloves, head tilting slightly like he'd wandered into an amusing inconvenience.
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(Sable POV)
Every head in the room was on me.
Hunters, demons, bathhouse ghosts-of-bad-life-decisions — all staring like I'd just ruined their favorite K-drama plot twist.
Inside the helmet, I was grinning. Outside? Perfect poker face. Well, visor. Same thing.
I hadn't planned to make an entrance right after the pretty-boy demons bolted, but hey — less competition for the soul buffet. And judging by the puddles of demon slime and the chaos still swirling, the Saja Boys had just pulled a classic leave the minions behind to die move.
Fine by me.
The tension in here was thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Not that anyone had one. Mostly just claws, swords, and bad intentions.
My gaze slid past the leather-clad hunters — Rumi, Mira, Zoey — still catching their breath in the main bath, to the swaying, soaking mass of water demons that were all but gift-wrapped for me. The way they stared, it was like they couldn't decide if I was a threat or just some lunatic who'd gotten lost on the way to biker karaoke night.
Nobody moved. Perfect.
I adjusted my gloves a little slower than necessary. A calculated yeah, I've got time kind of motion. One of the water demons hissed at me, webbed fingers curling like it thought intimidation was its best option. I tilted my head, almost curious.
The Saja Boys were gone, the hunters were still standing, and the air stank of wet tile and opportunity.
It was time to set the table.
I didn't waste time.
With a flick of my wrist, the First Star burst into existence — silver steel folding outward from my hand like it was being built by invisible clockwork, the blade locking into place with a hungry hum.
In my other hand, the Chalice shimmered into reality — a silver goblet etched with constellations that seemed to crawl when you weren't looking directly at them. I knelt, placed it on the wet tile, and tapped the rim twice with the tip of my blade.
Wum—
A pale blue glow bloomed from within, soft and cold, like moonlight bleeding through ice.
The water demons, up until now just sizing me up, began to twitch. Scratching at themselves. Then, flake by flake, their skin began to peel away — drifting toward the Chalice like snow on a windless night. Their shrieks started low and ragged… then climbed into something primal as they realized what was happening.
These creatures weren't solid flesh — not really. Their physical forms were just… spiritual glue given shape. And my Chalice? It ate glue for breakfast.
A few stumbled toward the exit in blind panic. Most, though, snapped into fury, locking eyes on me.
The biggest one — a half-decayed thing with eyes like boiled yolks — let out a piercing screech and charged. The others followed, claws slapping against tile, water spraying in every direction.
I smirked.
"Such good crops," I said, raising the First Star, "coming straight to the farmer."
White fire roared to life along the blade's edge, hissing as it met the damp air. And then I went to work.
The first demon lunged. I met it mid-stride, the blade carving straight through its chest. The cut ignited instantly, flames racing across its form before it collapsed into mist, which was yanked screaming into the Chalice.
Another came from the side — I pivoted, slicing low, its legs folding like paper before the flames consumed it. The mist rolled into the Chalice, the glow growing brighter with every soul claimed.
They swarmed in twos and threes, trying to flank me, drag me down. I folded my stance, keeping movement tight and sharp, cutting left, right, overhand, stabbing upward into a leaping form and letting the fire swallow it midair. Their claws scraped at my coat and helmet, but none got close enough to land a killing blow.
To my left, over the chaos, I caught voices — the Huntr/x girls, still holding their own against their half of the horde.
"Who is that?" Mira shouted.
"No idea!" Zoey yelled back. "You think he's with them?"
"Pretty sure he's not — look at what he's doing!" Rumi's voice was tight, wary.
I tuned them out. Whatever they thought, it could wait. The harvest was still underway.
I spun the First Star in my grip, flames trailing arcs through the steam-filled air. Each swing, each slash, another demon fell. Mist coiled and streamed into the Chalice until it was almost blinding to look at.
And then — silence.
The last demon screeched as the fire consumed it, its form unraveling into fine white vapor before being sucked into the Chalice's hungry glow.
I exhaled slowly, lowering my blade.
Job done.
The Chalice's light dimmed as I reached down and, with a thought, unsummoned it. The First Star folded in on itself with a metallic whisper, shrinking down into the bracelet on my wrist.
"Perfect," I murmured.
A cough drew my attention.
I turned my head and saw them — Rumi, Mira, and Zoey — lined up like an impromptu judgment panel. Their weapons were still out, but not pointed at me. Which meant they weren't sure yet whether to fight me or thank me.
Zoey was the first to speak, her tone polite but cautious. "Uh… who are you?"
I just stared at them through the visor. Didn't move. Didn't answer.
Zoey shifted uncomfortably, then tried again, voice a little smaller. "Okay, uh… also… why are you wearing a motorcycle helmet indoors?"
Still staring.
I could see the tension ratcheting up in her shoulders.
Finally, I spoke. "You're quite bold," I said, voice casual, "coming into the men's bath like this. Best you leave before people start talking."
The silence that followed was chef's kiss.
Zoey blinked at me. Once. Twice.
Mira's face twisted like she'd just bitten into a lemon soaked in vinegar.
"…Did he just—?" she started.
"—accuse us of—?!" Zoey sputtered, the tips of her ears going red.
Rumi just stared, sword still in hand, expression somewhere between what the hell and do I stab him for that?
"You're unbelievable," Mira snapped at me, her voice sharp enough to cut tile. "We just helped clean up half this mess and you—" She gestured vaguely to all of me. "—helmet man—decide the real problem is rumors?!"
I tilted my head slowly, letting the visor catch the light. Said nothing.
Zoey's jaw dropped. "He's not even denying it!"
Rumi finally stepped forward, her tone low, eyes narrowing. "Alright. Who. Are. You?"
For a second, I let the silence stretch — just enough for them to think maybe, maybe, I'd actually answer.
Then I turned around.
The air around me warped, the edges of the room rippling inward like reality had become water. My body dissolved into it, the rooftop proxy's pull grabbing me like a hook.
By the time the distortion smoothed itself out, I was gone.
Leaving them in the bathhouse — weapons still out, demons dead, and absolutely no closer to answers.
And me totally not cackling in my head like Palpatine.
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A/N: Team Huntr/x is quite bold😏
anyway, how do y'all like the fight was it to short was it too long, did it need more detail, let me know.
Now, leave a comment, leave a review and....
SSEEEEE YYYYAAAAA NEEEEEXXXXTTTTTT TTTTTTTTIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!