A Tyrant In Dc

The warehouse was quiet—eerily quiet. Blood splattered the floor, bodies lay strewn across the grimy concrete, and the air smelled of gunpowder and death. Allen staggered forward, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his many wounds. At 6'0", he was no small figure, but compared to the towering monstrosity before him, he might as well have been a child.

The boss stood there, a giant among men—7'9" of pure, unrelenting muscle. His hulking frame seemed almost inhuman, each movement of his body making his grotesque musculature ripple like an angry sea. He carried a machete in one hand, its blade gleaming in the dim light, while in the other, he held twin shotguns, one slung casually over his massive shoulder.

Allen swallowed hard. His heart hammered in his chest as he gripped the hilt of his bloodied knife tightly, his knuckles turning white. He could feel the dull throb of his injuries: the gunshot wound in his thigh, the knife slash across his ribs, and countless other bruises and cuts that screamed in protest with every move. But he had no time to dwell on the pain.

The boss sneered, his voice a guttural rumble that filled the vast space. "You're the one that's been causing all this trouble? A little twig like you? Pathetic." He flexed his fingers, and the grip on his machete tightened. "Let's see how long you last."

Allen didn't reply. He didn't have time for words. He lunged to the side just as the boss raised one of his shotguns and fired. The blast echoed like thunder, splintering a stack of wooden crates where Allen had stood a moment before.

"Danger! Danger detected!" The system's warning blared in his head, its mechanical voice frantic. Allen gritted his teeth.

"No kidding," he muttered under his breath.

Rolling behind a metal barrel, Allen tried to catch his breath. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last bomb he had. It was small, barely the size of his fist, but powerful enough to level a small room. He didn't have many options left. His body was at its limit, his strength waning, but he couldn't let that stop him. Not here. Not now.

The boss's heavy footsteps reverberated through the warehouse. "You can't hide forever, little man," he taunted. "I'll crush you like a bug."

Allen peeked around the barrel and saw the boss scanning the area, his massive machete glinting menacingly. He needed a distraction. Spotting a loose pipe on the ground nearby, he picked it up and hurled it toward the far end of the room. The clang echoed loudly, drawing the boss's attention.

"Nice try," the boss growled, turning back toward Allen's hiding spot. He fired both shotguns simultaneously, the blasts shredding the metal barrel Allen was behind. Allen barely managed to dive out of the way, the heat of the explosion searing his skin.

"HP: 43/175" flashed before his eyes. The system's cold efficiency felt like a slap in the face.

"Shut up," Allen hissed, dragging himself behind another stack of crates.

"You're slowing down," the boss said, his voice filled with cruel amusement. "Is that all you've got? All that noise you've been making , and this is how you go out?"

Allen didn't respond. He couldn't afford to waste the energy. Instead, he focused on his breathing, calming his nerves as he planned his next move. The boss was strong, too strong. Every swing of his machete, every blast of his shotgun—they were meant to overwhelm, to destroy. But strength alone wasn't enough. Allen had faced stronger opponents before. He'd survived worse. He just had to outthink him.

The boss rounded the corner, his massive frame casting a shadow over Allen. Without hesitation, Allen sprang forward, slashing at the boss's legs with his knife. The blade bit into flesh, drawing blood, but it was like trying to cut through a tree trunk. The boss roared in anger and swung his machete downward. Allen barely managed to roll out of the way, the blade slicing into the concrete where he had been.

"You're pissing me off," the boss growled, kicking out with his massive boot. The blow caught Allen in the side, sending him flying into a pile of debris. Pain exploded through his body as he crashed into the ground, coughing up blood.

"HP: 18/175" flashed again. The system's voice was a monotone, unfeeling reminder of how close he was to death.

The boss advanced, his machete raised high. Allen's vision blurred, but he forced himself to move. He reached for the bomb in his pocket, his fingers trembling as he activated it. He only had one shot at this.

As the boss brought the machete down, Allen rolled to the side, the blade missing him by inches. He sprang to his feet and lunged forward, slamming the activated bomb into the boss's chest. The boss froze, his eyes widening in shock.

"What the hell?" he roared, grabbing at the bomb.

Allen didn't give him a chance. He dove away, putting as much distance between himself and the boss as possible. The bomb detonated with a deafening roar, the explosion shaking the entire warehouse. The force of the blast threw Allen against a wall, and he crumpled to the ground, his ears ringing, his body screaming in pain.

When the dust settled, the boss was still standing. His body was a charred, bloody mess, but he was alive. Barely. He staggered toward Allen, his machete dragging along the ground.

"You think… that's enough to stop me?" he rasped, blood dripping from his mouth.

Allen pushed himself to his feet, every movement agony. He clenched his fists, determination burning in his eyes. "You should've stayed down," he said, his voice low and filled with steel.

With a burst of speed, Allen closed the distance between them, dodging the boss's sluggish swings. He aimed for the weak points, targeting the boss's injuries with precise, calculated strikes. Each hit drew more blood, sapped more strength from the giant.

Finally, with a roar of effort, Allen drove his knife into the boss's throat. The boss gurgled, his eyes wide with shock as he fell to his knees. Allen stepped back, watching as the massive man collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.

The warehouse was silent once more. Allen stood there, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his many wounds. He staggered over to a corner and collapsed against the wall, his vision fading.

"Quest complete. Rewards granted."

The system's voice was the last thing he heard before darkness claimed him.