DAMN IT! He's just a MESS. Why would he want to kill his own kind? Disgusting! Betraying his people for money ... $700,000 ... $70 million? What a cheap bastard!

But now I understand how Taiga recognized me. From that newspaper. No wonder that scumbag was the first person to find me. Annoying as he is, I can't let him die. I owe him too much.

That's why I'll protect this bastard—no matter what it takes!

Then there's Dante. He's the one who attacked me and Taiga. The bulky man is also a MESS like us, but he can turn his body into metal. A Class 6 MESS.

Father once told me that Grandpa Jibril categorized MESS into six classes. Those like Dante, who can transform into materials, are Class 6. Meanwhile, I'm Class 1. The victory is clearly mine, but I've sworn not to use my powers until I meet the Emperors.

My only chance to kill Dante lies with this shotgun—the weapon infused with Father's strength. I don't need bullets to blast that bastard's head off. If a light shot doesn't work, I'll ramp up the firepower.

***

BACK THEN, Makka couldn't feel the scorching daylight. The only thing on his mind was Taiga, disappearing into the sky. The lone clue left for the blue-eyed youth was the memory of the path carved by the muscle-bound MESS.

A trail curving directly toward an abandoned building, specifically on an island beside an old ship. Clenching his fists in anger and hope, Makka prayed this fury would be rewarded there.

The old factory! How much longer until I get there? Makka thought anxiously.

His strides quickened, each step devoid of hesitation, until his piercing blue eyes caught sight of a landmark that steadied him.

The old factory! Makka's thoughts shouted in excitement. "TAIGA!!!"

Makka bellowed Taiga's name at the top of his lungs. His shout was so loud that every person in the marketplace he'd just passed would wonder, Who's Taiga?

As the powerful cry left his lips, a commotion echoed from within the factory. The sound of metal clanging, falling as if signaling Taiga's presence inside.

Without a second thought, Makka raised his shotgun like a soldier poised to fire a bazooka. Focused and sharp, his blue eyes didn't blink for even a second.

A high-powered shot exploded from the small barrel of the shotgun.

Makka demonstrated to Dante that he had picked the wrong person to mess with. With a single shot, the factory's entire wall crumbled like a house of cards blown by the wind.

"Dante! Time to play with me!"

Makka's thunderous voice rang out.

His face was a portrait of wrath, black brows knitted tightly together, almost meeting. Yet his blue eyes carried a storm—the same expression he bore a year ago. But this time, Makka wouldn't stand still.

"Makka! I told you not to come here!"

Out of nowhere, Taiga emerged from a corridor jutting from inside the factory.

"Hey! Don't run, kid!" Dante shouted, leaping toward Taiga.

Unfazed, Makka grinned like a predator thirsting for blood at the sight of the man he was itching to shoot. Like Makka, Dante's eyes widened the moment he locked onto the piercing blue gaze he'd been anticipating.

Dante shifted his focus to Makka. The white-haired man quickly took a stance, preparing to strike.

Makka, eager, welcomed Dante's assault. The shotgun-toting youth immediately aimed his weapon at Dante's head.

Seeing his plan unraveling, Taiga began to panic. Sweat streamed profusely from his battered body as he shouted one final plea to Makka,

"Makka, you dog! I told you not to come here—"

"Shut up, Taiga! Rest now! Let your dog handle this bastard!" Makka barked back, exuding confidence.

Taiga, utterly exhausted, could only watch in silent worry. His breath came in ragged gasps. He was seething inside, yet tethered by overwhelming anxiety. Sweat poured from his temple, so much so that he couldn't muster a reply to Makka's retort.

"That's enough! Say goodbye to your head, Makka!"

Dante charged toward Makka, voice filled with malice.

Confident, Makka faced Dante's attack without flinching. Slowly, he began pulling the aluminum trigger of his shotgun. A slight smirk crept onto his lips as he muttered,

"Fool."

Another high-powered shot burst forth, reverberating through the room like an invisible laser. Like a laser striking invisibly, the attack unleashed a shockwave that ricocheted around the room.

Dante was thrown back, slamming hard against the far factory wall.

Taiga's green eyes widened in sheer disbelief. He had never imagined that Makka's shotgun could unleash such a massive assault. Watching the raw power his friend had just unleashed, Taiga realized something: Makka didn't need his protection. If anything, it was Taiga who should have been relying on him.

As the dust from the blast swirled and danced in the air, Makka suddenly disappeared into the haze.

Dante, furious and bloodthirsty, emerged from the wreckage, his eyes blazing with vengeance. His piercing gaze scoured the cloud of dust, searching for the blue-eyed youth who dared defy him.

"You bastard! I'll make sure you die tonight—"

A thunderous blast echoed through the room once more, but this time, the shot came from above.

Makka had vanished only to reappear on the second floor. From his elevated perch, he rained destruction upon Dante with relentless precision.

Another shot. Then another.

Makka didn't hold back. The young man, harnessing the raw power of MESS fire, kept firing until Dante could no longer move.

Dante, overwhelmed by the scorching heat and relentless blows, grew more enraged with each attack. He might have been losing to Makka, but Taiga? He was still within reach.

With one final burst of fury, Dante made his move.

"You're mine now!" Dante roared, leaping toward Taiga with unrelenting force.

Makka's heart stopped. Dante's speed and proximity left no time for a clear shot. The white-haired brute was too close to Taiga. But Makka, ever the strategist, acted in an instant.

"Taiga!" Dante screamed as he closed in.

And then—

A single, precise shot rang out.

The bullet tore through Dante's left eye, blinding him in an instant.

Taiga didn't waste the opportunity. Summoning the last reserves of his strength, he unleashed his MESS muscle powers.

"Biceps femoris... gastrocnemius...

"Double power!"

With a powerful dual kick, Taiga sent Dante hurtling through the factory wall, bringing it crashing down.

Without hesitation, Taiga darted toward Dante to immobilize him. Meanwhile, Makka leaped down from the second floor, pointing his shotgun directly at Dante's head.

With unwavering resolve, Makka demanded, "You're a MESS! Why would you betray your kind for money?"

"What do you know?" Dante snarled through gritted teeth, blood pouring from his left eye. "Since the day I was born a MESS, this world has never been mine to enjoy! Do you even know what I went through a year ago?"

Makka and Taiga froze at the bitterness in Dante's voice. But then, they exchanged faint, knowing smiles.

"You're not the only one who's lived through a nightmare," Taiga said, his voice heavy but calm.

"Stop being a coward!" Makka snapped. "Fight for it! I believe this world can be a paradise for MESS too—not just humans—"

"Fool!" Dante shouted, cutting him off. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

"You're the fool!" Makka retorted, his voice growing sharper. "No one has the right to take freedom away—not even those damned Emperors!"

The argument escalated, both sides seething with raw emotion.

Makka's frustration boiled over. "If you're so weak, what's the point of living? Why don't you just die already?"

Dante's face darkened, a haunting shade of despair settling in. He saw it now—Makka and Taiga were madmen. There was no reasoning with them.

With the last of his strength, Dante grabbed Makka's shotgun.

"Then let me die."

Before either of them could stop him, Dante turned the weapon on himself and pulled the trigger.

A deafening silence fell over the room.

Makka and Taiga stood frozen, their eyes wide in horror as Dante's lifeless body slumped to the ground. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the factory floor.

Their minds churned with disbelief. Neither could comprehend what had just happened.

Why had Dante done this?

The heavy silence pressed down on them, their blue and green eyes locked on the grim sight before them.

And yet, amidst the stillness, one question burned in their minds.

What kind of pain had driven Dante to end it all?

***

FROM THE DECK of an old ship drifting slowly away from the shore, Makka gazed out at Dante's grave in the distance.

After burying the man consumed by despair, a fog of curiosity and unease settled over him. What secrets of this world still eluded him?

Has the world always been this cruel? Makka wondered, his hollow gaze fixed on the endless horizon.

As he stared blankly at the sky, Taiga approached him quietly. The man Makka had saved sat beside him, lifting his head to the heavens that never turned their back on the earth.

"Makka," Taiga asked, his tone heavy with seriousness, "are you still thinking about Dante?"

Makka nodded silently, his red lips pressed tightly shut, unwilling to part with any words.

"Taiga," Makka began, his voice quiet but trembling with the weight of his thoughts, "is the world really this terrible?"

The question hung in the air as Makka turned to the foreigner from outside Midas, a man who seemed to know more about the world's hidden truths than he let on.

"Yes," Taiga said, meeting the melancholy blue eyes of the Arab youth. "The world became a living hell for the MESS a year ago."

Makka sank deeper into silence. The weight of Taiga's words bore down on him, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. Since leaving Midas, Makka had been gripped by a fear that the nightmare of a year ago might repeat itself.

"I free you."

Taiga's sudden words struck Makka like a bolt of lightning. His blue eyes, dulled by sorrow, now shimmered with surprise.

"What did you just say?" Makka asked, disbelief coloring his voice.

"From this moment on, you're no longer my dog," Taiga said firmly, his conviction unwavering. "I shouldn't treat someone who believes in me like a dog. I want you to stand by my side, like this. Together with me."

Makka stared into Taiga's green eyes, his disbelief melting into a wave of joy that surged through his soul. A wide smile broke across his face, lifting the beard that had drooped with sadness just moments before.

Seeing Makka's grin, Taiga couldn't help but smile too. He gave Makka a friendly punch on the shoulder, and the Arab youth laughed as he said, "Damn it, Taiga, now I owe you $105,000—"

"Forget it! I don't need your money, Makka-dog," Taiga interrupted with a laugh. "What I need is freedom. Pay me back by becoming my king! The king of the MESS."

Makka's grin widened at Taiga's words. He looked at the man beside him—the one he now saw as a brother—with a newfound sense of determination.

Taiga's wild declaration, as crazy as it sounded, filled Makka with confidence. It was as if his faith in himself—and in fulfilling his father's wish—was reignited.

Father, I will grow stronger.

Because I believe the MESS can find happiness in this world.

***