Kalanak's abduction of Marco, an old man already starving, was truly tragic. He hadn't even gotten a bite to eat—the meat he was about to devour fell from his hands when his body was forcefully dragged away by the demon.
He was flown far from the hills and now brought to the coastal area where Sora resided with his beloved children. Marco was now a prisoner. What kind of future did Sora have in store for him—torture or a swift death from a stab to the chest or a bullet to the head?
Sora locked him in a dark room, bound his hands and feet, and sealed his mouth tightly with duct tape. The room was silent. From outside, however, the raucous laughter of Sora's subordinates echoed loudly, as if they were having a party.
"How could someone as old as me be treated like this?" Marco thought bitterly, resenting how Sora's minions had treated him.
After some time, Marco finally breathed in fresh air when Sora opened the door and entered the room. Marco squinted, his eyes adjusting to the light.
"It's been a long time since we last met, old man," Sora said with a mocking laugh.
From a distance, Sora stared sharply at Marco. Marco remained calm, adjusting his sitting position. Then Sora approached and ripped the tape from his mouth.
"You're still as cowardly as ever—picking weak opponents, hiding rather than facing your enemies directly," Marco said calmly.
"Hahaha! That's strategy. If there's an easy way, why choose the hard one?" Sora replied.
"That's just like you! If you fought my son, you'd be dead. Your power is no match for his," Marco said firmly.
Sora laughed louder at that. "Come on! We're old friends—don't threaten me like that."
He leaned down, bringing his face close to Marco's. His breath reeked of blood and alcohol, but the old man didn't flinch. His eyes remained sharp, showing a lingering courage that neither age nor hunger could extinguish.
"I'm not threatening you," Marco whispered steadily. "I'm simply telling you the truth. My son Tora, together with Yamile and Zhao, will defeat you easily."
Sora inhaled deeply, trying to contain his anger. Then he stood upright and turned around, raising a hand.
"But tell me… Has Yamile learned where her demonic powers come from? And who was sacrificed for them?"
Marco was shocked; his eyes widened as he stared at Sora. "How do you know about that?"
Sora looked out toward the noisy beach, where the waves crashed loudly. "I used to work under you in the intelligence agency—I know all the secrets."
"Sora! Don't you dare reveal that to Yamile," Marco shouted.
Sora stepped closer again, leaning in for another face-off. This was a mental battle between the two—threats exchanged through their eyes. But Sora had the upper hand; Marco couldn't move, bound as he was.
Sora then drew a knife from his belt. With all his strength, he stabbed Marco in the left arm.
"Aaarggh!" Marco's scream of pain echoed through the dark room.
---
Meanwhile, Tora and Yamile were filled with rage over Uncle Marco's abduction by Sora's men. While still battling the demons, Zhao recounted what had happened.
At the time, Zhao had been training hard to master his black sword. Marco had been enjoying his meal by the campfire. But then, a strong gust of wind came, and Marco vanished instantly.
Zhao searched everywhere but found no trace. In his panic, he was suddenly ambushed by a group of Kalanak demons who could vanish into thin air. He fought fiercely to kill them all.
He recollected the moment when one of their attacks almost took his life. A deadly scream threw him, and Zhao instinctively swung his sword. A large, powerful slashing aura formed, instantly killing two of the Kalanak demons before him. Seeing this, the last one fled in fear.
Uncle Marco's kidnapping had escalated to a critical situation, threatening his life.
"We should just attack their base now!" Zhao said while striking down another Kalanak.
"We retreat first to strategize," Yamile advised.
Tora remained silent as his two companions debated their next move. He didn't speak, but his rage was evident. Every blow he delivered was brutal—he showed no mercy. He struck down every enemy until they lay dead.
Tora stared ahead without blinking. His eyes blazed red with vengeance. His fists clenched tightly, veins bulging in his arms. Any Kalanak demon that dared approach became a victim of his fury. He used everything—punches, kicks, even his club—without hesitation. His chest was filled with an unquenchable rage.
"I'll kill Sora with my hands," Tora whispered, loud enough for Yamile to hear nearby. His voice was cold and filled with deep hatred.
Yamile stepped closer, placing a hand on Tora's shoulder. "Calm down. We need a plan. If we act recklessly, Uncle Marco might really die."
Tora turned slowly, his breathing heavy and tense. "He's the only family I have," he said, voice trembling.
Zhao, wiping blood from his cheek, added, "I'm sure Uncle Marco is being used as bait. We need a strategy first."
In the end, they decided to retreat. That night, they took shelter in the ruins of an old building. The place was quiet and safe enough to plan. The atmosphere was silent, broken only by the sounds of insects and the soft crackle of fire on wood.
In the quiet ruins, the three of them sat around a dim fire. Their faces looked worn out, but their eyes stayed alert. None of them could truly rest that night. Worry for Marco's fate haunted them like a dark shadow lurking in the night.
Tora finally spoke. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but firm. "I know where Sora's base is," he said.
"Sora's base is on the coast, a secluded area surrounded by jungle and steep hills. There's only one main path to reach it. The other routes go through forests or hills."
"Here's the plan: I'll take the main path to draw them out. You two go through the forest to rescue my father," Tora stated firmly.
Yamile and Zhao exchanged glances. "It's too dangerous for you to attack alone. They'll have many guards," Zhao said.
"Don't worry about me. I've awakened my demon power. I can handle them!" Tora answered with conviction.
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