Villain Origin : Every Crime I Commit Helps Me Level Up-Chapter 33: Redemption

Silhouetted against the fog rolling across the dockyard stood Zaria, her stance casual yet deadly precise. The smoking pistol in her hand glinted in the harsh dock lights. The weight of her presence seemed to alter the very air around them.

"You," Marcus said, recognition and something like rage coloring his voice.

"Me," Zaria confirmed, her tone eerily calm. She stepped forward, each footfall deliberate. "You didn’t sense me coming, did you? Been working on that for years."

Marcus’s face twisted with contempt. "We had an agreement. This was between Hawk and me. You gave your word."

Zaria’s laugh was hollow, devoid of humor. "My word?" Her eyes hardened to obsidian. "You talk about honor after what you did to Cole?"

The name hung between them like a physical presence. For the briefest moment, genuine emotion flickered across Marcus’s perfect features—something almost like regret.

"He tried to go against Victor... but he wasn’t even worthy of facing him, let alone fighting. So I had to kill him," he said quietly. "Nothing personal."

"It was personal to me." Zaria’s voice dropped to a whisper. "He was my best friend. And you snuffed him out like he was nothing."

Marcus’s wounded shoulder was already healing, the Weightless Force technique accelerating his body’s natural processes. Within minutes, he would be at full capacity again.

"I’ve been waiting for this moment for years," Zaria continued, taking another measured step forward. "Working my way into your inner circle, pretending to be loyal. All to find a way to kill you without ending up dead myself." Her smile was cold. "But someone like you... it would take more than what I had." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Her eyes narrowed. "Then André came along. I had my people watching him from the beginning, and I always knew he was strong—from beating goons and thugs on his own without breaking a sweat to actually fighting toe-to-toe with you—that wasn’t what I expected. I placed a bet on whether André would survive when you two finally clashed. That’s why I mentioned him to you, knowing you’d want to destroy him like you did Cole, but André has surpassed every expectation."

A genuine smile touched her lips. "Now I’m glad I made the right choice."

Marcus’s body tensed, preparing to launch toward her with blinding speed—but he’d made a critical error. In his focus on this new threat, he’d momentarily forgotten about Hawk.

Behind him, Hawk summoned the very last reserves of his fading Senkika. Time seemed to slow as he poured everything—every ounce of technique, every scrap of willpower, every fragment of rage and determination—into one final strike.

The gauntlet on his fist vibrated with accumulated energy, glowing with an unearthly light. This was why he’d created them—this precise moment. The culmination of three years of preparation, of suffering, of relentless training.

Marcus sensed the danger too late. As he began to turn, Hawk’s fist was already in motion—a perfect arc of devastating force aimed at the exact spot where his Iron Shell technique was now compromised.

The impact was cataclysmic.

The gauntlet connected with Marcus’s chest with a sound like thunder breaking. The vibrational energy discharged in a visible wave that rippled through Marcus’s body, disrupting the molecular cohesion of his Weightless Force technique at its foundation.

For a split second, absolute shock registered on Marcus’s face—the realization that he had fundamentally miscalculated. The black dot in his eye shattered like glass, fragments of darkness dissolving into his iris.

"Impossible," he whispered.

The force of the strike lifted Marcus off his feet, his body traveling backward through the air in a graceful arc. Blood erupted from his mouth in a fine mist, internal organs rupturing under the catastrophic pressure.

He crashed through a shipping container, then another, before finally coming to rest against a concrete pylon. The impact left a spiderweb of cracks radiating outward from his broken form.

Silence descended on the dock.

Hawk collapsed to his knees, the Senkika finally expiring completely. Its departure hit him like a physical blow, his enhanced capabilities draining away in an instant. His massive frame shuddered as the accumulated damage registered in waves of agony.

Zaria picked her way carefully through the wreckage of shattered shipping containers, following the path of destruction that Marcus’s body had carved through the dockyard. Twisted metal and splintered wood marked his trajectory, a testament to the catastrophic force of Hawk’s final blow. Her pistol remained raised, finger hovering near the trigger—years of experience had taught her to verify a kill, especially with someone of Marcus’s caliber.

She found him crumpled against a concrete pylon, the impact having left a spiderweb of cracks radiating outward from his broken form. The sight surprised her.

Marcus was still alive, if barely. Blood leaked from the corners of his mouth, his breathing shallow and wet. The light in his eyes was fading, but they tracked her movement with grim awareness.

"You... planned this," he managed, each word a labor. "Used... yourself as bait."

Zaria didn’t confirm or deny the accusation. She simply watched him with those cold, evaluating eyes, the barrel of her gun unwavering.

"He’s... remarkable," Marcus continued, gaze shifting in the direction where Hawk had fallen, though the shipping containers blocked his view. "Those gauntlets... clever."

A wracking cough seized him, more blood spattering the concrete at his feet, pooling in the cracks his impact had created.

"You know," Zaria said quietly, "you were so caught up in your life at the top, wrapped in the illusion of being untouchable, that you forgot something truly important."

Marcus’s eyes questioned, a faint flicker of curiosity visible beneath the pain.

"People have long memories," she said simply. She glanced back toward where Hawk lay. "Especially people you’ve hurt."

Something like understanding flickered in Marcus’s dimming eyes. His lips moved, but no sound emerged.

Zaria leaned closer, the gun still trained on his chest.

"Balance," Marcus whispered, the word barely audible. "Perhaps... I was the one... who needed... the lesson."

His final breath escaped in a soft sigh, the tension leaving his body completely. A once legendary master of the Weightless Force is finally gone.

Zaria stood motionless for a long moment, feeling neither triumph nor satisfaction—only a hollow completeness, as if a Chapter that had remained unfinished for too long had finally reached its conclusion.

She turned away, holstering her weapon, and picked her way back through the debris field to where Hawk lay unconscious but alive. His massive chest rose and fell in labored rhythm, his body already beginning the long process of recovery. Blood seeped from a dozen wounds, staining the concrete beneath him.

Standing over his prone form, Zaria studied him with a complex mixture of emotions.

"I should just shoot you right now, Hawk, for bailing the last time you fought Marcus."he sarcastically thought to herself. But it was clear he had given his all in the fight with Marcus. The brutality written across his body told that story clearly enough.

A smile formed on her lips as she turned and faced the direction of the abandoned warehouse where André was. Hoping and praying he was okay.

The sound of hurried footsteps drew her attention. Zaria raised her gun high once more, finger tensed on the trigger.

"Don’t shoot! It’s me!" Ken yelled, hands raised in surrender as he emerged from between two intact containers.

Zaria dropped her gun to her side, relief washing over her features. Ken paused, taking in the scene before him—the unconscious Hawk, the trail of devastation cutting through the shipping yard, and the pools of blood drying on the concrete.

"Holy shit," he whispered, eyes widening. "Looks like a war zone." He surveyed the path of destruction, following the crushed containers with his gaze. "Where’s Marcus?"

"Back there," Zaria nodded toward the shattered pylon. "Against the concrete."

Ken’s eyes narrowed, a mixture of hope and skepticism in his expression. "Is he..."

"Dead," Zaria confirmed. "Finally."

Ken exhaled slowly, as if he’d been holding his breath for years. "Never thought I’d see the day." He glanced back at Hawk’s broken form. "I was rushing back to help him, but it seems you guys already handled that part."

"He nearly killed himself doing it," Zaria said, a hint of reluctant respect in her voice. "Those gauntlets of his worked exactly as planned. Disrupted Marcus’s Weightless Force technique at the molecular level."

Ken nodded appreciatively, then his expression darkened. "We’ve got bigger problems, though."

"How are the men holding up?" Zaria asked, concern lacing her voice.

Ken shook his head grimly. "They’re facing way too much. Victor’s men brought in more fighters than we anticipated. They really can’t hold on anymore." He glanced toward the warehouse in the distance. "Unless André actually wins and makes them lose their will to fight..." He trailed off, leaving the dire implication hanging in the air. "We might be cooked."

Zaria’s jaw tightened. "André will pull through. He has to."

But the worry in her eyes betrayed her certainty, as she gazed toward the distant warehouse where their final hope was fighting his own battle against impossible odds.