### Chapter 12: Blood Demon Death Arc – No Heroes Left

  The Shipping Games had been running for three weeks now—long enough for the rules to sink in, for points to matter, for people to change.

  Zone 7’s small mountain town was mostly empty now: shops boarded, streets cracked from stray techniques, the occasional body left where it fell because no one had the stomach to bury strangers anymore. Sky moved through it like a ghost—black shirt tucked loose, white pants dirt-streaked, knife at his hip, spatial hum quiet but always there. 230 starting points had climbed slow: quiet kills on awakened hunters who came for easy prey, never kids, never civilians. He avoided big groups. Stayed off the system’s top boards. Waited.

  Then he heard the scream—high, terrified, a kid.

  He ran.

  Rounded the corner into the old town square: cracked fountain, overturned cars, and there—Jefferson.

  Jefferson stood over a boy no older than ten, wooden sword (academy issue, pacted and glowing faint) raised high. The kid was backed against a wall, crying, no mark visible yet—non-awakened, maybe 5 points tops. Easy. Quick.

  Jefferson’s face was harder than Sky remembered. Eyes hollow, jaw clenched like he was chewing glass. “Sorry, kid,” he muttered. “Need the points.”

  The sword came down.

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  Sky moved.

  He crossed the square in a blur—Rift Step short-range, space folding just enough. His boot caught Jefferson square in the ribs—full force kick, Echo Fist stacked for that delayed crack. Jefferson flew sideways, slamming into a rusted car door with a denting crunch, sword clattering away.

  The kid blinked up at Sky—tall stranger in black and white, knife glinting. “R-run,” Sky said, voice low but urgent.

  The boy didn’t need telling twice. He bolted, sneakers slapping pavement, disappearing around a corner.

  Jefferson coughed, pushing up slow, blood on his lip. His eyes widened when he saw who it was.

  “…Sky?”

  The word carried across the square, disbelieving.

  Sky stood between him and the kid’s escape path, knife loose in his hand. The hum inside him thrummed angry—blue-red flicker at the edges of his vision.

  Jefferson stared, sword forgotten on the ground. “Wow… you’re cold. Everyone in Japan thinks you died. You’re really no hero—”

  Sky cut him off, voice like ice cracking. “What are you, huh? You just tried to kill a little boy. What the fuck is wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?”

  Jefferson’s face twisted—anger, shame, something broken. He snatched his sword up, Switch Rush clapping once to close distance fast. The blade swung horizontal—pact edge sharp enough to cleave stone.

  Sky weaved—leaned just enough, spatial sense tingling, the swing whistling past his chest by inches. He stepped inside, knife flashing up—not lethal, controlled. Stabbed clean through Jefferson’s sword arm, bicep, pinning muscle without hitting artery.

  Jefferson gasped, sword dropping again. Blood poured hot down his sleeve.

  Sky backed up quick, knife yanked free, stance low. He knew the math—Jefferson’s swaps and momentum could end him if he got space. Couldn’t take the realm out here, not yet. Too open, too many eyes possibly watching system feeds.

  Jefferson clutched his arm, staggering but not down. “Points… we need them. To add rules. To find the villains. To win.”

  Sky ducked a wild left hook—Jefferson still dangerous one-armed—then surged forward. Foot planted, kick upward into the gut, lifting Jefferson off his feet. Mid-air, Sky’s fist followed—Echo Fist, full stack.

  The first impact hit chest. The echo detonated a half-second later—crunch like ribs giving, Jefferson flying back ten feet into the fountain wall. Water sprayed red as he slid down, coughing blood, barely conscious.

  Sky stood over him, breathing hard, knife pointed loose.

  “You don’t win by becoming them.”

  Jefferson’s eyes fluttered, points feed probably flashing defeat in his mind. He didn’t answer.

  Sky turned and walked away—into the alleys, shadows swallowing him.

  Behind him, Jefferson lay broken in the fountain, blood mixing with the stagnant water.

  The games kept going.

  And no one still knew Sky was back.

  Not yet.