West to the establishment of the mage I had just taken care of is a restaurant. Located in the heart of a city, it is a stark contrast to the previous wasteland. A location of much sound and light, I must admit that I find it more than a bit odd. Food that is borne of earth and flesh should be consumed atop its caress, yet here we are.

Under such a perfect full moon, it is a shame that I have to go indoors. But, to adapt to the customs of this land, I have little choice. With a step, I walk into the building alongside the mage who had contracted this mission.

"Hello, may I take your name, please?" A waitress asks, her complexion guided by a need to smile.

No matter which restaurant I go to, they all carry the same face. Odd as it is, I do not comment. People, as diverse as they are, find pleasure in different things. It is certainly possible that all 'restauranters' enjoy smiling at strangers. That said, the mage besides me, who does not smile, only responds with solemnity.

"Vela Ramelet." She replies.

As if it was some kind of mystic code, the waitress knew what to do in instinct. With a brief nod, she leaves her spot and takes us through the establishment. With softened movements, I follow. While we walk, I see many sorts of people. Whether it be an elf, human, or another variation of the soul, they all hold similar likeness. Their eyes, which shine with interest, direct themselves to me, and their bodies, which they cover with fabric, take the form of what I understand to be fancy clothes.

Peculiar as it is, I do not comment. No matter what I say, I know the people of this land will not change their minds. To someone such as them, I am an abnormality that is better off dead.

Fortunately, I do not have to bear their gaze for much longer. For without a doubt, we arrive at what is our room. To give us some time to take it in, the waitress pauses before she opens the door. Though I do not quite understand the appeal of glass squares interlaid by plastic, I suspect that some people might.

Vela, for one inspects it thoroughly and even goes as far as to place her hand on her chin.

"Yeah, this is the one, thanks."

Without so much as a word of response, the waitress opens the door and offers a final bow. Naturally, we walk in. With a subtle, graceful movement, the waitress then closes the door. Because she is now gone, I feel at ease to inspect this dining area.

A luxurious room of modern design, it is decorated by colours of gold and red. The colours of violence and greed, respectively, blends quite well. The mage beside me, who sighs, then takes a seat. I see Vela type on a 'smartphone' for the next few moments before she returns it back to her pocket. As if satisfied, she takes a deep breath and instead directs her gaze towards me.

Her eyes which linger, showcase an untempered desire for an answer. To an inevitable question that she needs an answer to, the only way forward for her is to ask.

"Well, how'd it go?"

Not understanding what she means, I reply honestly.

"Please specify. I am unable to understand what you refer to."

The woman people know as Vela does not reply. Instead, she closes her eyes and longingly looks out the window as if she anticipates an enemy. A city of light and tall buildings before her, I wonder what it is about these banal structures that interest her.

"I mean killing my brother. Did he die as one befitting the Ramelet family?"

Once again, her mouth lets loose cryptic words.

"Death is neither appropriate nor unsuitable. It is merely the end of life."

Vela falls into a long silence. Again, she takes out her smartphone and tapes her finger onto its screen, and again, she puts it back. Because I realize a way to answer her question, and because I suspect she is unsatisfied, I speak.

"If you would like, I have recorded his demise on a camera".

Even if I do not know how it works or operates, I know that I did press the shiny red button and that a quaint electronic sound appeared.

My customary routine before each confrontation, I suspect some might find it odd. But as the only one who bore witness to their end, it is the highest form of honour I can bestow. Vela, who hears my statement, then shifts in her seat. Her face, which contorts in surprise, is now a hairsbreadth away from me. Without a doubt, she is both emotionally and quite physically moved. For a reason I do not know, her breath now leaves and enters her lungs at a far greater pace than before. Minty and warm, I can almost taste its watery vapour.

"Please show me!" She yells with the energy of an adolescent.

To comply, I take a case out of my coats pocket. Covered by a layer of protection as not to damage it, I then open it. I might be durable, but this feeble metal thing is not. With the appropriate amount of strength, I lift it out of the case and show its screen to her. Should my memory serve right, I have to press these buttons and...

There, as if we phased through time, a small picture frame of the brother shows itself. Stuck in a pose, it is as if we are looking through a snow globe. To give her a warning, I nod my head and wait for a reply. Vela, who nods back, gives me the order I need. If that's what she wants, then I will not judge. With a single click of a button, the video begins to play.

The next moment, in the middle of the screen, the man I killed moves. Without so much as a nod in my direction, he stands over a circle of blood and prances like a dancer. The next moment, he glares at the clock. It need not be said what he is waiting for. Vela, who has been staring silently up until now, finally speaks.

"So, he uh, just didn't notice you?"

I nod. It is only natural that a specialist like me is able to crush any opposition, but even so, this scenario was a bit odd.

Rather than a duel, it is instead the ramblings of a mad man that transpires. A man who is so occupied with his technique and magic that his mind and vision are clouded by desire. An obscurity so intense that he does not notice the thing that records him. Vela's face, which is caught by surprise, continues to bear its eyes on the man. Yet, the longer the video goes, the greater the intensity of her expression. Though the element of surprise is the same, it is now one ever changed by pulled eyebrows.

When five minutes of this video passes, she coughs.

"Wow, I mean, I knew he was a dumbass but, really?"

I thought that she loves her brother, but now I am not so sure.

To call someone, a 'dumbass' does not seem particularly affectionate. Much less when he is already dead. Even so, she is still intent on seeing this 'dumbass' and keeps watch. As time passes, we eventually see a noticeable change. The man's legs, which were once a normal colour, now exude light from underneath. An infection of magic, it spreads and corrupts the rest of his body until there is not a spot left.

When this is done, a white light envelops the room. The place, which could once be seen, now leaves much to the imagination. Vela grits her teeth as if anticipating something. Her eyes, which glue themselves to the screen, widen at what comes next. For when the light is all but gone, she can see the form of her brother.

"You're fucking kidding".

I do not answer.

"A kangaroo, are you fucking serious?"

Vela, whose eyes and mouth widen like a ravine, grabs her face with a hurried frenzy. No sooner, her nails begin to scratch at her skin.

"Arg-aaargh-bleh". Her throat blurts.

Is she suffering from a lack of oxygen? Her reddened face, her flailing hands, and her eyes which dart from side to side for help seem to suggest it... While I think to propose help, I also am suspicious; not all is what it seems. Even if I cannot quite place my finger on it, I suspect Vela's grievances lie with the 'kangaroo' shape her brother takes.

No doubt, she suspects it is not powerful or worthy of combat. The common sentiment of these city dwellers, they look down on the might and strength of animals.

The only way to prove their worth is for the people to see themselves. And I suspect that will precisely be the case. The pain subsides with time, after all. Though I already know what happens, she does not.

Vela gasps in a civil but shaken voice as she sees the damage. Enlightened by the experience, the physical prowess of her brother demonstrates itself in the shattered wall.

The girl who was moments before in torment now has the look of a hopeful youth. With eyes that cling to a future and hands that shake with vitality, her breath slows itself. Even if the conclusion of the video is already set, the path that leads is not. At this moment, where none of us says a word to each other, I can only assume that she wishes to see her brother's conclusion. I do not have the right to speech. It is not my position to explain what comes next; that is the duty of the sacred videotape.

"I HAVE BECOME A GOD!". My former opponent yells.

When Vela sees this, her face lifts. Her excitement, which soars higher and higher with each second, will soon reach its climax.

While our confrontation ensues, the conclusion draws nearer. That is right. The decisive battle to the death that she anticipates will show itself. To defeat that foe, I used my full force. So there is no dishonour in such a death.

A beautiful kick capable of eviscerating concrete lunges. Though it is too fast to be captured on camera, the prior startup and movement are more than enough indications of its intent. Fwoosh. Like the punch of a master of martial arts, it is almost enough to shake my camera hand.

So much so that if you looked closely, that one could see a corner of the screen shift half a nail's length. Saying nothing, my body takes the kick. Then with one punch, instantly kill him.