CHAPTER 89: CHAPTER 10.17 JOHAN OR JOGO?

A short while earlier.

Two mysterious figures clad in strange outfits, their faces completely hidden behind eerie white masks, stood motionless in the suffocating darkness. Both of them wore the exact same uniform—long flowing cloaks dyed in a shade of ashen black, paired with straight black trousers that blended seamlessly with the night. They were concealed deep within the cover of trees, shadows of the dense forest wrapping around their bodies like an additional layer of disguise.

"Let’s move already. I cannot afford to wait any longer." One of them finally spoke, his voice cold, sharp, and impatient. As he finished speaking, faint traces of dark energy began to seep out from several parts of his body, curling upwards like sinister smoke rising from boiling water.

The other figure observed silently for a brief moment. The way his companion’s energy leaked out was enough of a signal—they were long overdue to make their move.

He gave a short nod.

"Very well," he replied.

And just like that, both of them vanished from the area. Their disappearance was so abrupt and unnaturally fast that even the falling leaves drifting lazily from the branches above had not yet touched the ground when their presences were already gone.

The air in the spot where they had stood still vibrated faintly, trembling as though the lingering residue of their cold energy was pressing down heavily on the chest of anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby.

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Meanwhile, inside the café’s private lounge.

Al and the others were engaged in a lively conversation, the atmosphere warm and lighthearted after the earlier commotion caused by Yura.

"Yura sure is taking her time. Looks like she’s enjoying herself in the restroom. That’s unusual." Zaza voiced her curiosity.

"Don’t tell me she’s in there scheming some wicked plan against Al," Karen teased while narrowing her eyes at Al.

Al didn’t flinch. He was more focused on enjoying the snacks in front of him. His hand moved casually, as if there were no threats in the world, though his eyes occasionally carried a cautious glint. His lips chewed slowly, and his gaze would briefly flick toward his conversation partner before returning to the plate, as if he wasn’t interested in responding.

"You all are far too cruel toward an orphan child," Al said casually while continuing to chew his snack.

"But you always claimed to be from a wealthy family. And now suddenly you’re an orphan?" Rina mocked with a sneer.

Al didn’t care. He felt somewhat too weary to even deal with Rina at the moment. He leaned back in his chair, resting one arm against the armrest while propping his chin with his other hand, his expression one of half-hearted boredom.

"Al, from a rich family?" Johan asked in surprise, his tone light but genuinely curious.

Rina shrugged, raising both arms to her sides in a gesture that screamed, Who knows? Her lips curled downward, exaggerating her lack of interest, before she casually took a sip of her drink, spinning the straw around lazily.

"Why, Jo, are you curious about him too?" Zaza teased.

Johan gave a small but firm nod, his eyes drifting briefly in Rina’s direction.

In that very instant, Rina suddenly shot Zaza a sharp, cutting glare.

Zaza flinched, visibly startled at the unexpected look. A heartbeat later, realization struck her, and she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. The loud sound of the slap drew Karen’s attention for a moment, causing her to glance over curiously.

"Remember, don’t call Johan by the nickname ’Jo’ in front of Rina," Armin reminded firmly.

"Ahaha, my bad. Force of habit," Zaza chuckled nervously.

Rina merely raised one thumb in a dismissive gesture while sipping on her drink again. A thin smile curved her lips, but her eyes remained piercing and cold.

"So, is that guy named Jogo still pestering you, Rin?" Zaza asked nonchalantly.

Al’s head immediately turned toward Zaza, confusion flashing across his face. Why was Jogo’s name suddenly brought up? That name had been weighing on Al’s mind recently, though he hadn’t had the chance to properly deal with it today due to all the troublesome events. He had even planned to investigate the matter further after the abandoned warehouse incident yesterday. His curiosity spiked.

"What about Jogo?" Al asked.

Zaza turned toward him.

"Oh right, you also go to the same school as him."

"I do too," Karen chimed in eagerly, raising her hand like an elementary school child desperate to join the conversation.

Zaza snorted lightly at Karen’s silly act, then continued. "Then you must already know that Jogo has a crush on Rina, right?"

Al nodded calmly.

"Oi, you don’t need to bring that up. It only ruins the mood," Rina snapped, visibly annoyed, her gaze flicking sharply toward Johan. Her fingers tapped on the table in rapid succession, a clear sign of her growing impatience.

"Haha, alright, alright. My bad," Zaza apologized.

But Al pushed the conversation forward.

"I’m honestly curious. Why is Jogo chasing after Rina so desperately? Doesn’t he know about Rina and Johan?" Al asked, eyes shifting between Rina and Johan sitting side by side.

The two of them appeared slightly flustered, as though their relationship was already too obvious in the eyes of the public. In truth, they had never openly announced anything, and their connection was not an official relationship. They were simply two young people who harbored mutual feelings, quietly acknowledging each other’s affection while deciding to put it aside for the time being, focusing instead on school and the rigorous life of martial artists that demanded more of their attention.

"I guess you care about Rina quite a bit, considering you asked that," Armin commented.

"I’m far more curious about Jogo. Because of Rina, that guy assumed I had something to do with her, and lately he hasn’t stopped harassing me.," Al replied coolly.

"Ah, I see," Armin muttered in realization.

"That’s true. I also saw Jogo glaring at Al angrily the other day at the school gate," Karen added. Since she attended the same school, she had personally witnessed that incident. Her hands moved animatedly as she reenacted the angry expressions with an exaggerated pout.

One person, however, did not take Al’s explanation lightly. Johan. His expression shifted subtly, his eyes flicking between Rina and Al. A discomfort bloomed inside his chest, his face tightening in discontent. He concealed it as best he could, grateful no one was looking at him at that moment.

I can understand if this is about Jogo... but just how close are Rina and this boy? For Jogo to misunderstand so completely... could it be that they act so familiar in school that even outsiders mistake them for a couple? His thoughts swirled heavily, adding a new burden to his heart.

Zaza finally spoke up again, explaining.

"It all started because the two of them share the same name."

"Hm? The same name?" Al tilted his head.

Zaza nodded.

"We usually call Johan by the nickname ’Jo.’ And because of that, somehow, a rumor started spreading—reaching even the people around Rina—that Rina was in love with someone named Jo."

"And since Rina is quite friendly with many people, including Jogo, he misunderstood. He assumed that Jo referred to himself. That was when he began pursuing Rina relentlessly. From that moment onward, we stopped calling Johan by the name Jo." Armin added.

Rina closed her eyes with a weary sigh at the memory of that irritating event. She leaned slightly into Johan, who still appeared tense, though he attempted to remain warm and supportive toward her.

Meanwhile, Al...

He covered his mouth with one hand, as if shocked. And then...

"Ahahaha." His laughter rang out, rich and unrestrained. "I never expected something like that to happen to you, Rina," he mocked, smirking.

Rina looked displeased, turning her head away in a pout. Her cheeks puffed slightly as she restrained herself from retorting.

"Hmph," she grumbled in frustration.

The others joined in laughter, all except Johan, who merely forced a stiff smile. His eyes stayed glued to the table, avoiding everyone else.

Moments later, Karen and Zaza excused themselves to the restroom as well, intending to check on Yura, who had been gone for quite a while.

But before they could take many steps—

Al suddenly felt it. Something was wrong. His instincts screamed danger. He immediately leapt toward them—

And then...

BOOOOMMMM!!!

A deafening explosion shook the private café lounge to its very foundations!

The side wall collapsed with a thunderous crash.

Shards of glass scattered in every direction.

Smoke and dust engulfed the entire room.

A wave of scorching heat slammed against their skin, toppling chairs and tables with splintering crashes. The curtains caught fire at the edges, releasing the acrid stench of burning fabric mixed with the bitter tang of gunpowder.

Outside, customers screamed in terror, panic spreading like wildfire. The room next door was also shaken by the blast, tables and cutlery tossed violently. Some patrons, though tempted by curiosity, quickly joined the stampede, running for their lives under the assumption that a bomb or terrorist attack had just occurred.

"ZAZA! KAREN!!" Rina cried out.

Both Rina and Johan shot to their feet instantly.

Vita energy surged across their bodies, wrapping them in a defensive aura as they entered full combat readiness. They darted toward Zaza and Karen, but their vision was obscured by the thick, choking smoke. Johan flung Armin toward the corner, securing him in a safer spot.

"What the hell is happening?!" Rina muttered through clenched teeth.

As the smoke thinned, Zaza and Karen became visible, crouched behind an overturned sofa for cover. In front of them sat Al, sprawled casually on the floor, as though he had been the one to shield the two girls. His expression was more irritated than afraid—but not because of the attack. His snacks and drinks had been spilled all over.

"There was still plenty left," he grumbled.

Dust continued to fall gently, drifting like a light shower in the air. The café’s once bright lighting flickered erratically, electrical sparks dancing as the wiring failed under the strain.

From within the haze of debris and dust... towering silhouettes emerged.

Two men. Both wore horrifying white masks etched with demonic motifs. One was tall and broad-shouldered, his build like a hulking beast, while the other was shorter yet radiated arrogance in his posture. Both donned dark gray-black cloaks, their bodies exuding an aura of sinister black energy—clearly visible to Rina and Johan, though invisible to ordinary people.

Their steps were heavy. Each stride left cracks spiderwebbing across the ruined floor. Dark energy bled out of their forms like a suffocating mist, lowering the room’s temperature by several chilling degrees.

Al narrowed his eyes at them, wary.

The black aura enveloping their bodies was destructive—terrifying—and it was clear they were not ordinary men.

"Who the hell are you?!" Johan barked, his fist clenching, veins bulging across his forearm. His eyes narrowed sharply, his entire frame coiled like a spring.

The larger figure locked eyes with Johan, silent for a long moment. Even through the mask, his gaze felt like a predator evaluating its prey. "My business is not with you. Leave this place."

"What?" Rina snapped.

The massive man ignored her, turning his masked face toward Al instead.

"Finally, I have found you... strange creature."

Al tilted his head upward slightly, his expression calm, his eyes half-lidded with disinterest.

"Demon masks, flamboyant outfits... you’re the ones who look strange here. What are you, street performers? Clowns?" he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

The two masked men stiffened, clearly irritated, though they refrained from immediately acting on impulse. The very air between them grew heavier, as though invisible walls of pressure were pressing mercilessly against their lungs.

Seeing their attention diverted, Rina seized the moment. She burst forward, channeling her energy into a fierce strike.

WHAM!!

But the giant blocked her effortlessly, deflecting her blow and sending her flying back. Her body spun once in the air, her hair whipping wildly, before she crashed into a sofa—only to be caught just in time by Johan’s steady hands. The impact resonated through the ground, leaving spiderweb cracks where the giant had stood.

"Rina!" Johan shouted, holding her tightly. The force wasn’t lethal, but it was enough to worry him. His grip on her shoulder tightened protectively, his eyes flaring with vigilance, his pupils narrowing into the sharp focus of a fighter who knew the foe before him was anything but ordinary.

Rina’s gaze hardened. The energy she felt in that exchange was both familiar and unfamiliar. Each pulse of the man’s aura reverberated in her chest like an echo she had once known—but it had been twisted, corrupted into something dark and malevolent. The acrid scent of scorched metal and dust clogged her senses, her instincts screaming danger.

She stared at him. He looked familiar, yet utterly unrecognizable at the same time. Someone she knew, and yet... not him at all.

Who is he? she thought.

But then, a calm voice rang, cutting through the tension—

"You’re Jogo, aren’t you?" Al spoke with unnerving nonchalance, adjusting his sitting posture. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, one leg crossed over the other. He brushed the dust off his trousers lazily, as though he were simply preparing to enjoy the show. "And you... you must be Rudi."

His voice carried a quiet but undeniable challenge. Amid the haze of smoke and flickering light, his relaxed posture paradoxically increased the pressure in the room. His fingers drummed lightly on his knee, each tap echoing ominously in the silence left behind after the explosion. The masked men tensed immediately.

Everyone turned to look at Al.

Rina’s eyes widened. In that moment, realization struck her.

Yes—the height, the stance, even the way they spoke... it all matched.

But something was off.

The strength radiating from them was monstrous, far beyond anything Jogo should possess. By rights, even Rina herself was stronger than Jogo.

And Al mentioned Rudi? That boy wasn’t even a fighter. Yet this masked figure radiated incredible power. Just who were they?

Their auras no longer felt human. Dark energy coiled around their bodies like living shadows, writhing violently with their slightest movements. Thin cracks spread across the tiles beneath their feet, the very air thickening until the skin of everyone present prickled in dread.

The two masked men faltered at the sound of their names being spoken.

"What nonsense are you spouting? We are not—" the large one, presumed to be Jogo, began.

"Enough. It doesn’t matter. Attack the boy and finish this," the smaller one—presumed to be Rudi—interrupted coldly.

The supposed Jogo gave a sharp nod.

Both of them lunged forward at once. Their movements blurred, streaks of black energy trailing behind them like phantoms. The mere force of their leap sliced through furniture, chairs splintering apart from the pressure.

Their target—Al.

Al’s eyes sharpened, his posture tensing slightly.

But he did not move yet. He already knew—

CRAAASHHH!!

Their attack was intercepted before reaching him.

The deafening clash resounded like thunder. Sparks of energy—one black, one brilliant blue—erupted violently, scattering shards of glass in all directions once more. The raw shockwave blasted through the café, throwing debris across the ruined floor.

Rina confronted the giant. Her body shot forward like silver lightning, hands blazing with concentrated Vita aura as she caught his massive fist with her open palm. Her hair flared behind her, her eyes burning with determination as she glared into his mask at point-blank range.

Johan intercepted the smaller one, holding him at bay with equal intensity.

The sound of clashing power filled the shattered café. Shards of glass crunched beneath their feet. Black and blue energies raged against each other, ripping apart the remnants of the private lounge. The remaining light fixtures flickered weakly, casting broken shadows across the figures locked in combat.

And so, the battle erupted.

Whatever the outcome would be, one thing was certain—blood would be spilled before it ended.

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