"A true artist makes due with what is given.” His words left his mouth as he began to leave the bar. A spark became the root of a growing inferno. The men in question were being burned alive. The lucky ones died instantly from the explosion that erupted. The camera put Shura out of focus for a moment as he walked closer to the door. The focal point became the individual's screaming and rolling around. One tried to run into the bathroom, looking for some kind of salvation in the water. He quickly found out Shura’s flames were too great for the small source coming out of the faucet. With no ocean near by he could not soothe the pain he was in, he could only wait for death’s sweet embrace.

Shura stepped out of the bar, a inferno raged on behind him. Blue flames began to slowly spread all over the building causing a chain reaction. The beverages in the bar and canisters ignited causing explosions to occur. The screams created by the burning men began to die out as the men passed onto the next life. They paid the ultimate price for their betrayal. Shura hummed a tune as he left the building. The tune he hummed had lyrics to it but he felt that it was not needed to sing it. Only play it out in his head. The sounds of the burning building and crumbling materials served as the choir for this hum. After getting a few feet away he watched his latest work burn brightly. People saw this and ran, others called for the fire department and local authorities. This was one of his first performances that was made public. People saw Shura walking out of the flames unscathed and knew that he had to be the root of this destruction.

“In carnage, I bloom, like a flower in the dawn.”

A fire that could not be tamed by normal means of water. He accepted what he was, the necessary evil in the world to put down those who needed to be killed. He couldn’t just let any of those men walk away. Why? It was simple really, they followed a man who backstabbed their original leader. A pack of weak willed individuals who didn’t live by a code of honor. No better than wild animals following a pack mentality. If the remaining folks who heard of this at the company rose from the ashes they were worthy to walk among the living.

Shura saw the onlookers who watched in horror. He took a bow as if he just finished a performance. He was a strong believer in taking pride in his work. After doing so he left the scene to move onto the next job. He looked at the three pops in hand that he just acquired, staring at them they were resonating already. ‘Another soul needing release must be near by.’ was the thought that cross his mind. Ignoring the people around him he put all but one pop away. Using it as a compass to lead him to the next mission.

526/1000

Shura hurried out of the area before the authorities showed up. Using the alleyways and such to get away from prying eyes. It was not long before he was back on track using his lollipop compass. Ten minutes passed by, he navigated the back alleyways with relative ease. This was thanks to the lollipop, hopping fences and scaling walls raw physical ability. It wasn’t long before he stood before an building in one of the back alleys. Another soul was in view. Someone was standing in front with a cane in hand, he shared the characteristics of the dead man he just helped. The individual was looking at something, motionless most likely lost in thought. Memories of the past constantly plagued the mind on several occasions. Shura walked forward and positioned himself directly next to the restless soul. He looked up to see the sign, he read it out in his head. ‘School of Wuguan.’ The old man was using the cane to hold himself up began to speak first. “This place has seen better days, death was a unwelcomed variable.”

“It has been a long time since I have seen a school such as this. Martial arts is something that has been lost to time.” Shura replied. He trained under his father, different style yet still martial arts. He felt that he would need it in the future. The old man chuckled, he knew what Shura said was truth. “I take it you train.”

“You can say that.” Shura replied.

The old man turned to Shura, “You can call me Zeku.” Shura looked over and nodded. “Shura Ranzu.” The old man returned the nod and looked back at the dojo. “Tell me, what brings you here Shura?”

“Well that’s easy, I am here for you sir.” Shura turned to Zeku completely showing him the pop that was pulsating. “Something tells me you are already dead. But you can’t rest, something keeps you anchored to this world and I am here to help you pass on.” He explained.

Zeku let out a sigh before speaking, “You are correct. I used to own this school but fell gravely ill. I thought I could leave this place without worry. My pupil showed promise but he has done nothing but disappoint me. I need someone to set him on the right path once more. I don’t need him dead, I just need someone to rough him up a bit. You think you are up for it?” Shura nodded after Zeku got done explaining. Zeku pulled out a picture with him and his pupil. A young man whose face was committed to memory. Shura said nothing and made his way into the dojo with haste.

There were a few people present, sparring each other. A teen was sitting off to the side watching while someone watched over all of them. Shura closed the door behind him, it made a noise that drew attention to him. People began to whisper, drawing attention to him. He wasn’t wearing normal clothes. Some people went on the defensive but a adult male stepped up to speak.

1037/1000

“What brings you here traveler, you don’t look like someone who wants to train.”

Shura bent down and untied both shoes. He stepped out of them and grabbed them with his one arm. He placed the shoes off to the side where others were. “I have come on request for that lad over there.”

Shura pointed to the teen sitting over that was the focal point of this mission. Shura made his way over to the middle of the dojo. “A old friend told me to check up on you.”

The teen looked confused, as to who Shura was referring too. The man in charge gave a nod for the teen to come forward. In a white gi the boy walked over to stand in front of the man who pointed at him. Shura removed his shoulder pad that had the cloak running down over his left.

“No need for your name boy, Zeku sent me, to check on you.”

The boy’s eyes widened at the thought of his master sending someone for him. “Zeku has been dead for years. There is no way..”

Shura spoke up, cutting off the boy’s comment. “In a world of magic you really question the possibility of the dead sending a message?” The teen looked over at the current master of the dojo. The man gave a nodd as a sign that Shura spoke the truth. Was it really that far off to think his master could have been watching the whole time. “Well I suppose,”

Shura stepped inward covering the gap between the two. Using his right as a leading foot he drove a open palm into the chest region of the boy. His hand shot forward like a bullet with a extreme amount of force behind it. Enough to sweep the lad off his feet, but not enough to kill him. The boy was caught off guard by Shura’s comments. A opening created by conversation, in a world of martial arts one must always be on their toes. He let his guard down at the mention of his master. The boy was thrown backwards and completely winded. He was gasping for air and people watching stood up ready to fight.

Shura went back to a neutral state and gave a bow before speaking. “You have been slacking and Zeku isn’t too happy about that.” Shura slipped back into his shoes and picked up his cloak.

“You need to get your shit together, next time I expect more.”

After getting his things back together he slipped out the door he came through. He found two lollipops sitting where his client was last seen.