At the end of the path, Kenichi saw bright light. A large concrete field, housing the remains of what seemed like a demolished factory, was littered with cars and people. The headlights from an expensive vehicle showed a truck, with multiple people extracting large crates from the container.

With a tensed face, he pulled out his phone and dialed the police. A female voice answered, but told him to hold on when she heard the location. A moment later, someone picked up the phone.

“Ah yes, sorry for the wait. Can you describe the location you are in right now? So we can… inform our forces of the optimum entry point.” The male officer spoke.

“The abandoned factory in xxx district, near Tokyo Airport.” He repeated. ”I`m hiding in a small alley, on the eastern side of the location.”

“I see. Please stay calm and don`t make any movement. You are in a very dangerous situation. We will arrive shortly.”

The call ended. Kenichi took a deep breath. The air was dead still, despite the busy humans unloading the truck just a few dozen meters in front of him. To his right was a stack of unused rebars, some has been cut to the right size for the use that Kenichi wished he would never resort to. The wind suddenly grazed the side of his face, bringing sounds of footsteps towards the alley.

He became cautious, and slowly backed off.

Two males entered the small alley. As soon as they saw Kenichi, both charged. He didn`t even consider communicating, and replied by bashing the first guy`s head into the wall with a round kick. Stomping on the unconscious body, Kenichi dashed towards the second one, ducking down to avoid whatever attack while simultaneously sinking his overhead punch into the guy`s face. The two were not able to utter a sound. Kenichi glanced at the scene.

“Forty or more.” He counted.

The bodies were stripped of their motorbike gloves, jacket, and batons. He picked the cleanest steel bar from the stack, sighing deeply. For a moment, Kenichi stared at his running shoes. His face twisted into a frown, as the shoulders shivered uncontrollably. About twenty meters away, another person was coming. Kenichi turned and looked at the way out. Then he pulled his phone out and checked the time.

A 1.7 meter steel rebar flew across the air, traveling a dozen meters before crushing the ankle of the nearest guy. Some rushed towards him, while others were on guard. From the alley, Kenichi darted straight into the crowd, knocking out people left and right using the batons. Some chased, but none could catch up with Kenichi`s speed. Some jumped in front of him, only to be struck with a night stick. Three thugs stood further in his path. Kenichi switched into a flying kick and rammed through them, maintaining his sprint.

The rebar appeared in his sight. Throwing both of his sticks behind, Kenichi grabbed the long staff and stopped at once. A thug was caught by surprise and passed out from smashing his own face against the rebar. The first drop of red was smeared on the field.

Kenichi circled his leg behind as he spun his body. The staff swept a 180 degree arc, making the thugs fall on eachother trying to dodge the strike.

Like a snake, the staff jabbed left and struck right. Bodies began to pile as Kenichi gracefully guided his weapon to its target, breaking bones and pulverizing flesh wherever it went. Soon, he became tired. Not from wielding such a clunky staff, but from holding back the force of his attacks. The bar weighed about ten kilos; accelerate it to the speed of a motorbike and the force is enough to shatter cinder bricks. With every attack landed on a thug, his wrists felt more and more like they were about to separate from his arms. Yet, he chanted in his mind, as if it was a sutra:

(Don`t kill them… Don`t kill them… Don`t kill…)

The enemy gradually held their lines further away from him. Kenichi was breathing heavily. His hair looked like it was sloppily glued onto his forehead. His shoulders burned, and the rebar was dripping with blood that leaked from his fingers and soaked through his gloves. The enemy noticed his state. Kenichi shook his head before stabbing the bar on the ground, vaulting on it. Swinging on the bar, his kick only pushed them back, but his grip slid on the shaft and clenched at the staff`s end. As his feet touched the ground, Kenichi bit his teeth and roared:

“Nnnggh!”

The full length of the rebar was hurled into the air. The mob frantically split in half, however too slow. Multiple foots were smashed into two pieces, as the crackling sounds of bones resonated with the painful wails of man. The ground underneath ruptured, and the shock made them backed away as fast as they could from Kenichi. Some started running. Many rushed towards the boxes, busting them open and fill their pockets with what seemed to be gold. Kenichi stood his ground, but no one dared to contest. From afar, the sounds of police cars arrived.

(None of them are dead… I did it!)

The next day in Japan, the headlines were about the new laws regarding prostitution. On the fifth page, a small piece of news announced the suicide of a PE teacher, Kenichi Kazuo.