Packing a Punch P1

In the desolate landscape, devoid of any signs of human activity, a few figures stood locked in a brutal confrontation.

The battered young man, Eren, found himself caught in the vise-like grip of his assailants. Jayce and Bryce held him firmly on either side while the towering figure of Stan reveled in his sadistic assault. Each strike landed with a swoosh, the sound echoing through the abandoned ruins that surrounded them.

Eren's body bore the marks of pain and suffering, evidence of the relentless punishment he endured. With a wicked grin adorning his face, Stan took delight in using Eren as his personal punching bag, the young man's agony fueling his amusement.

The moon cast its pale glow upon the scene, offering enough visibility to witness the brutality unfolding. No security arrays or watchdog drones patrolled this forsaken place, leaving Eren to endure his torment in isolation.

"Did you enjoy taking my money, Eren? Consider this the interest on your debt," Stan sneered, his voice coated in false gentleness. His fists continued to rain down upon Eren's body, each blow sapping the strength and resolve from his battered frame. Jayce and Bryce, observers to this macabre display, couldn't help but feel unsettled by Stan's eerie demeanor.

"And did you relish mocking me in front of Reece and Captain Miranda? This is my way of showing appreciation," Stan spat out his words with contempt, a punch landing squarely in Eren's gut, forcing him to expel the contents of his stomach. Stan deftly avoided the vile spray, except for a few splatters that marred his clothes and shoes.

"Now look at what you've done. I treat you so kindly, and this is how you repay me? Such ingratitude, Eren Idril," Stan lamented, smearing his bloodied hands on Eren's shirt, smirking at the irony of staining the same garment with his own blood. Suddenly, he unleashed a swing kick, using the soiled leg to clean his shoes, adding insult to injury.

Eren found himself airborne due to the powerful kick, hurtling through the air before crashing painfully to the ground several meters away from his original position. The force of impact exacerbated his injuries, the jagged stones tearing at his flesh as he skidded along the unforgiving ground.

"He's trying to kill me," Eren's thought echoed in his mind as he lay there, battered and broken. Despite his attempts to summon his mana for protection, his injuries only worsened. If not for his meager mana defenses, he would have met his end long ago. Stan showed no mercy, his blows growing more ferocious with each passing moment.

"Stan, are you trying to kill him?" Jayce couldn't hold back his disbelief, the sight of Eren's mangled state shaking him to his core. Initially, Jayce had hoped that the combined assault would break Eren's spirit, but he hadn't anticipated this level of brutality. Even Ralph, though accustomed to violence in the harsh realm of Numbered Oasis, found himself taken aback.

"Why should we let him go? This conniving rat tried to swindle us and tarnish our reputation before the captain. Doesn't he deserve a fitting punishment?" Stan chuckled, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. As Jayce glanced at Ralph, he saw a silent nod, realizing that Stan's intentions of ending Eren's life remained unaltered. They had stumbled upon the perfect kill zone, devoid of any witnesses or interference.

Stan's serene facade continued, his sophisticated grin lighting up his face. Clapping his hands together, he spoke in a calm, measured tone. "Consider this, Eren. As a non-ranker, if you remain here without securing employment, you'll be expelled from the Elysian city with severe restrictions. You won't be able to breathe a word about the city to anyone. It would be a bleak existence, a life of isolation."

His words rang with false empathy, his expressions betraying concern and worry. Slowly, Stan approached Eren, his measured strides punctuated by the tap-tap-tap of his footsteps. Interweaving his fingers and cracking his knuckles, he let out a sigh before continuing his twisted justification.

"I doubt Bourgys would accept someone as softass as you into their ranks. You wouldn't be able to connect with them, having lived here for so long. Alone and estranged, our poor Eren would succumb to loneliness and eventually commit suicide."

Eren, his right ear pressed against the ground, strained to hear Stan's approaching steps, his senses sharpened by the dire circumstances. His eyes, still brimming with intelligence, blinked rapidly, their fierce determination undimmed. Each breath he took stirred up the dust-covered ground, his mouth tainted with the crimson of his own blood and the remnants of his vomit.

"Fuuuuuu*ck," Eren cursed inwardly as he watched Stan draw closer, fully intent on finishing what he had started. He berated himself for naively believing he had a week to prepare for this onslaught.

Now, trapped and battered, he braced himself for the final, potentially fatal blow. His mind raced with thoughts of survival.