The room was filled with the rusty ghosts of the past. Under the flickering yellow fluorescent light, the workbench—perhaps once orderly—had transformed in minutes into a temple of chaos under Raven’s hands. One by one, he laid out all the parts he had stolen from Drail’s shop: battery packs, burnt fuses, jagged circuit boards, soldered metal limbs, small data panels with cracked screens… and most importantly, the item he placed carefully at the center of the table: the Super Punchinator.
Raven got to work without delay. The soldering gun in his hand hissed as it heated up. Guided by ION, he began dismantling unfamiliar parts, tracing circuit paths, and testing with a new power source. The table soon turned into a complex digital junkyard. The scent of ozone from the devices mixed with the smell of hot metal and the burnt plastic of old cables, thickening the air. He was completely cut off from the outside world.
Until a cold soda can touched the back of his neck.
“I always thought you’d end up some psycho merc or a blood-thirsty brawler living off fight pits.” Diana said mockingly, picking up a rusty piece of metal from the table.
“But turns out… you’ve actually started using that little brain of yours. Interesting. Very interesting…”
Raven glanced sideways at Diana, a slight smirk curling his lips. He was surprised both guesses had hit the mark. He had fought to the death a few times in Grimhaven and worked as a mercenary before that. He took the soda Diana handed him and opened it.
“You followed me all that time and still don’t know me, D!” he said, his voice blending with the metallic hum around them.
“I've always been someone who stands out with intelligence.”
Diana laughed. But it wasn’t a warm laugh—more like a wound that stung, a mocking chuckle. She dragged a rusty chair over and sat beside him.
“So, what now, tech-genius Raven…” she said, eyes fixed on the chaos on the table, “What’s the plan? Gonna build a bomb or something?”
Raven shrugged while making a few new connections to the Super Puncher’s inner circuits.
“First I buy some time. Then the rest falls into place.”
Diana rolled her eyes and brought both hands to her head.
“So basically… you got no plan?”
At that moment, Raven put down his screwdriver and turned to her. He looked Diana in the eye, completely serious.
“Of course I do! First I wipe out the B12 gang, then I marry you. We’ve been over this.”
Diana turned bright red. Raven’s tone was dead serious, but she could feel the teasing beneath it. To mask her embarrassment, she instinctively smacked him hard on the back of the neck.
“Mess with someone else, jackass!” she snapped, jumping up. She was halfway to the door when she stopped and looked back over her shoulder.
“By the way, my grandpa can’t handle stairs anymore. He’s calling you up. Pretty sure he’s gonna kill you.” she added, then disappeared.
Raven just smiled after her. Hours passed, though he hardly noticed the time going by. The device lying on the table was nearly complete.
The Super Punchinator now looked like a metallic nightmare. What had once resembled a glove tangled in wires had taken on a more streamlined form. Reinforced with plates, jointed fingers, and a smooth energy outlet in the palm, it looked like a somewhat crude but functional bionic hand.
“Hey, what can my Super Punchinator do now?” Raven asked with a mocking tone.
“Can it shoot lasers or something?”
ION’s mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
“No, Raven. Updates include: increased current capacity and voltage, enhancing the weapon’s lethality. Alternative power sources have been added, reducing bioenergy consumption. Reinforcements with medium-grade plates were made to improve structural integrity, making it suitable for intense punching actions.”
Raven nodded, eyes fixed on the new glove.
“So… more electricity, less fatigue… and it can punch now. Not bad.”
“This description is functionally sufficient.”
A small grin tugged at the corner of Raven’s mouth. He gripped the Super Punchinator, tested the weight of its metallic body in his fingers, then secured it to the Active Defense Surface belt around his waist. He had done some work on that too—it was working again. Then he walked toward the bar section. No sound could be heard inside, other than the echo of his own footsteps. Tables and chairs were neatly arranged, lights dimmed. The bar was already closed, and cleaning had begun. The moment Raven saw this, he turned around, reached for a cabinet out of habit, and pulled out two mops.
He pressed one mop against the floor and began pushing forward. With the slick surface beneath him, his body glided like a skateboarder. He lifted his feet slightly and coasted smoothly to the bar counter. As he came to a stop, he tapped his toes to steady himself. Diana was behind the counter, slowly wiping a glass.
“Mop race?” Raven asked, narrowing his eyes.
Diana’s lips curled in a dismissive expression. She let out a grunt through her nose.
“Not in the mood, Raven. Kindly go screw yourself, yeah?”
Raven wasn’t fazed. His eyes sparkled slightly as he stepped back and looked her over.
“You know… once you drop those extra kilos…” he said nonchalantly. Diana frowned, but there was a spark in her gaze. Raven continued.
“Thought you could keep up. Guess your courage melted along with the fat.”
He leaned a mop against the edge of the counter, grabbed the other with both hands, and began mopping the floor slowly.
“Did you miss me, you damned super-robotic, mutant, terrifying, monster floor?” he whispered.
His movements were unshowy but methodical; he had mopped every corner of this bar as a kid.
“One hundred credits!” Diana suddenly shouted. Her voice echoed across the ceiling of the bar. Her eyes sparkled, hands on her hips. She was fired up.
Raven smiled. He raised two fingers, tilting his head slightly in challenge.
“Two hundred.”
“Deal!” Diana replied, sparks in her eyes. She walked to the other side of the counter, grabbed a mop, and took position.
The two stood at opposite corners of the bar. They locked eyes; a moment of silence passed. Then both moved at once. They slid across the floor, pressing their mops rhythmically, the scent of soap and cleaning solution filling the air. The swishing of the mops, their breathing, and the tempo of the race blended into a strange harmony.
Finally, near the center of the bar, just a few steps from each other, they collapsed to the ground, panting. They lay on their backs, the reflections of ceiling lights casting dancing shadows on the glossy tiles. Diana raised her left arm and extended her e-wallet toward Raven.
“You’ve gone rusty, Raven!” she said with a faint, mocking smile on her face.
Raven was just about to laugh and agree when ION’s voice echoed in his ear. The tone was more serious than ever.
“They’re approaching, Raven. Their communication devices have entered my range.”
Raven immediately stood up straight. His entire posture shifted, hardening.
“Diana.” he said, voice low but firm,
“Get behind the counter.”
Diana didn’t understand at first. She frowned when she saw the serious look on Raven’s face.
“Whaaat! Are you crying because you lost? Want a glass-washing rematch now? Pay me first!”
But Raven didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the door. ION’s voice returned.
“400 meters. Twelve individuals.”
Raven turned to Diana and took a step toward her. He reached out and pulled her to her feet.
“Please. Behind the counter. Now.”
Diana hesitated for a second, but eventually nodded and moved slowly behind the bar. Raven followed her.
“Diana. Sit on the counter.”
Diana stared at him, baffled.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“300 meters. Hurry, Raven.”
Raven’s face was tense, but his eyes were steady.
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“Please. Trust me. Just… trust me, okay?”
After a few seconds of hesitation, Diana took a deep breath and sat up on the counter.
“Now what?”
Raven raised his head and tilted his neck slightly.
“Now kiss me right here. Make it obvious… leave the lipstick mark.”
“200 meters.”
Diana clenched her teeth.
“Do you have a fucking death wish?!”
Raven quickly raised both hands, looking defensive but pleading.
“Look, I can guarantee you with, like, 70% certainty this isn’t some pervy move! I just… I need the lipstick mark. Please!”
“100 meters.”
Diana rolled her eyes, gritting her teeth, and leaned in toward Raven. She pressed her lips to his neck—not a kiss, just pressure to leave a mark. When she pulled back, she wrinkled her nose and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. But her cheeks were glowing red.
“Happy now?”
Raven pulled a small, coin-sized device from his pocket. He pressed it to his chest. When he clicked it, a holographic emblem flickered into view—an ominous logo resembling a jawbone made of rusty blades: the symbol of the RustJaw gang.
“Sorry.” Raven muttered, and ruffled Diana’s hair quickly.
Just as Diana opened her mouth to shout, Raven pulled her into a sudden embrace. And at that moment, the bar door creaked open.
“Well, look at this, boys! The lovebirds weren't expecting us!” shouted the man entering, laughing.
Raven slowly released Diana. From the outside, only the top of his head was visible behind her. The scene looked… intimate.
One by one, twelve large men stepped into the bar. Their heavy footsteps echoed as they advanced toward the counter. But their leader’s expression changed. Raven's slowly becoming more visible. He had spotted the logo on Raven’s chest. His eyes widened. His jaw tightened.
RustJaw’s logo.
That name made most men in Ashveil tremble. Unlike the B12 gang, the RustJaw crew hadn’t taken over a city by relying on others. Every member was a genuine brute. Merciless men who knew how to fight.
“The bar’s closed, boys. Come back another time!” Raven said. His voice was deep and commanding. Shoulders squared, he no longer looked like some street punk—he looked like a gang member.
“[PSA-02X] Psycho-Social Analysis Module — Active at 2.2% efficiency. They’re tense.”
The gang members exchanged glances. They had come after hearing that one of their boys had gotten his ass kicked by some “punk”. But now they were face-to-face with someone wearing the RustJaw emblem. The hesitation thickened the air.
Raven narrowed his eyes. Then, like a switchblade, he vaulted over the counter in one fluid motion. By the time he landed, the Super Punchinator was on his hand.
“Don’t tell me…” he said, his voice cold,
“You’re the friends of those bastards who messed with my girl?”
One of the men looked at the lipstick mark on Raven’s neck. It was the same shade as the girl behind the counter.
“There must’ve been a misunderstanding…” said one of them, voice shaky, eyes dodging. The earlier swagger had vanished.
“Our guys were just… collecting the protection fee. That’s all.”
Raven grinned. But there was no humor in that grin—only threat. He tilted his head slightly, relaxed one shoulder. The Super Punchinator began to hum faintly in his hand. Blue sparks danced along its joints. In the silence, the buzz of electricity filled the room. All twelve pairs of eyes were locked on the strange glove.
“Asking my girlfriend to strip in the middle of the bar—is that part of the protection fee too, you prick?!”
He didn’t direct the words at the speaker, but at the skinny guy next to him. Just like ION had said—the weakest link. Raven’s eyes narrowed with deadly focus. His expression hardened. The man flinched and instinctively stepped back.
“Hey hey man! Chill out! There was a mix-up, alright? They probably didn’t know she was with someone from ‘Jaw’. Maybe they just wanted to, you know… have some fun. You know how it is, right, bro? Relax!”
Raven slowly nodded. Then he turned his back to them and walked toward the bar. He grabbed a bottle and two glasses from the shelf. As he turned, he pointed at one of them—the man with the black B1 tattoo on his temple. Must be the leader.
“You are the leader, right?” Raven asked. When no one answered, he raised his eyebrows and spread his hands.
“Did I get that wrong? You guys are the B12 crew, aren’t you?”
He looked again at the guy with the tattoo.
“You… What was your name again? Oh! Koran! That’s right. You’re Koran, one of the 12 crew officers.”
Koran’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected that— not only did Raven know his position in the gang as a ‘officer’, he knew his name too. Tension climbed his throat as he parted thick lips and swallowed hard. He slowly walked over to the chair Raven had gestured at and sat down. The chair creaked under his weight. Raven placed a glass in front of him and poured the drink with practiced ease, not spilling a drop.
“I was planning to pay you a visit anyway.” Raven said. His voice was calm, but something boiled underneath it.
“Thought I’d drop by to see my girl, but ran into your boys instead. I might’ve lost my temper a bit… maybe roughed them up too much. You know why, ain't you? But you’ll let that slide, won’t you? Bro?”
Koran nodded quickly. He was still tense, but felt that Raven wouldn’t hurt him—yet. The threat hadn’t vanished, but at least the room seemed to ease. He took a sip of his drink.
“Are you here for the shits that happen in Grimehaven?” he asked, his eyes still wary.
Raven smiled, then gave Koran a friendly pat on the shoulder. He left his hand there and turned toward Diana.
“The boss said this guy was smart. Didn’t believe him, babe, but look at me—totally wrong!”
Diana’s face flushed red. She was still nervous, stealing glances at the twelve gangsters around her. They weren’t RustJaw, sure—but they were still twelve men. Raven couldn’t possibly take them all alone.
“Y-yeah… darling…” she said. She tried to smile, but her voice trembled.
Raven turned back to Koran. “Name’s Rex, by the way!” he said, offering a hand.
Koran hesitated, then reached out and shook it, this time with a smile. The alcohol had begun to settle in.
“You already know, but I’m Koran. Good to meet you, brother.”
Just then, ION chimed in. That familiar metallic whisper in Raven’s inner ear:
“Mission complete. The target has lowered his guard.”
ION // SYSTEM FEEDBACK — [Session: 015 | Operator: Raven Karr]
Interface: ION_v4.6.1_β // Connection Stable [?]
[?] [MRS-09] Molecular Restoration System
- Operational Efficiency: 10.4% (↑ 2.2%)
- Primary Function:
→ Facilitates tissue regeneration via nano-scale biosynthetic repair protocols
→ Applies localized reconstruction on muscle, epidermal, and limited neural tissues
→ Simulates auto-fibrin production and coagulation to suppress superficial bleeding
→ Engages limited immunosuppression to minimize infection risk
- Critical Limitation:
→ In cases of major tissue disruption or internal organ trauma, system enters “Hemostatic Mode”
→ Prioritizes active hemorrhage control; regeneration rate significantly reduced
→ If operational load exceeds 60%, system may enter temporary shutdown
??[?] [PSA-02X] Psycho-Social Analysis Module (Experimental Prototype)
- Operational Efficiency: 2.1% (↑ 2.1%)
- Primary Function:
→ Analyzes micro-expressions, vocal tone, and biometric feedback for intent profiling
→ Constructs probabilistic behavioral models in real time
Algorithmic Output Sample:
→ “Subject Raven exhibits an 83% likelihood of rejecting the concept of ‘trust.’”
System Notice: Stated efficiency percentages apply only under conditions of full, synchronized nanite allocation to each individual module. Partial or multi-tasking deployments may result in fluctuating efficiency levels.
Raven // BODYCHECK
→ Gear:
? Street style clothes (Even though the clothes are a bit baggy, they are cooler this way.)
? Active Defense Surface [Model: AS929] (ION did something. It works now!)
? Button shaped Hologram reflector (Raven got it from the RustJaw members he beat up in Delta-7. It reflects the RustJaw gang's shitty logo.)
→ Weapon:
? Left Hook of God? (Seriously? This ancient wrist-slam still here? Next to the Super Punchinator? No tech, no spark—just bruises and delusions of divine relevance.)
? Combat Knife [Model: M-12] (The only thing left of Rex.)
? Super Punchinator [Left] (Boom! It can punch now! Is Raven slowly turning into Thor? Still penetrating the Active Defense Surfaces!)
→ Additions:
?Fucked up vibes (Pov: You've fucked everything up)
? Stolen e-Wallet – Balance: 734 (Nothing's changed here.)
? VX-21 Commlink (Nope!)
? Stylish Black Bag (Used to be cool. Now it’s just “Raven’s personal hell-pocket.” Still cursed. Still smells weird. It's a little lighter now.)
? Sustenance & Regret – Contents: Bottled Rations, Bottles labeled “Water” (Technically drinkable. Emotionally scarring. One hissed and called him “mom.”)
? Monkey Chocolates (Hey monkey! You behind this radioactive piss-lemonade too?!)
? (6) VX-21 Commlink (He's not gonna do anything with these. I think he's just a crazy fucking collector!)
Data logged. No escape. If you made it this far, Grimhaven either chewed you up or you’re just as stubborn as Raven. Comments, ratings, support… all sacrifices to the algorithm god. See you next chapter.
Or not—depends on whether Raven survives.