SSS Ranked God Marked

Junes found himself in a jungle, dense vegetation surrounding him as he frantically looked around. There was no one else with him as he darted his eyes back and forth, sensing movement in the shadows between the trees. Something was watching him, tracking his movements. Suddenly, a dark figure pounced from the undergrowth, causing Junes to scream in terror.

The scream carried him back to consciousness as he jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat and his heart hammering against his ribs.

Relief washed over him as he realized it was just a dream. The familiar surroundings of his room came into focus, grounding him back in reality. A gentle knocking at his door pulled him fully from the remnants of the nightmare.

"It's alright! Just a bad dream!" Junes called out, his voice still carrying a slight tremor.

"Oh! I see," Hime's concerned voice replied from the other side of the door.

"I'm gonna be fresh and come out," Junes said, running a hand through his damp hair.

"Okay then I'll be waiting," Hime answered.

Junes sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He slept shirtless, a habit that displayed his impressive physique—six-pack abs and well-defined muscles that spoke of years of physical training. Standing up, he stretched his arms overhead, working out the tension that had built up during his restless sleep.

Making his way to the washroom, Junes went through his morning routine—brushing his teeth and taking care of his bodily needs. The cold water splashed against his face helped clear away the lingering discomfort from the nightmare. After finishing in the washroom, he returned to his room and pulled on a fitted t-shirt that clung to his muscular frame.

Opening the door, he found Hime waiting patiently in the hallway. She offered a small smile, though her eyes betrayed concern over his earlier outburst.

"Larry wants to see you," she said, gesturing down the corridor. "Follow me to his room."

They walked at a measured pace through the facility. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but Junes could tell Hime was stealing glances at him, perhaps checking if he was truly alright after the nightmare.

Upon entering Larry's room, they found him standing by the window, gazing outward with his back to the door. The morning light cast his silhouette against the glass, giving him an almost ethereal appearance.

Hime cleared her throat. "I've brought him as you've asked," she announced.

Larry turned away from the window, his movement smooth and deliberate as he faced Junes. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held intensity as they locked onto Junes.

"Today you'll train for assassination type close combat," Larry stated without preamble.

Junes frowned, caught off guard by the directive. "I can't do assassination type close combat," he protested. "I can't even do southpaw posture properly."

"Then learn fast! You'll need it no matter what," Larry replied, his tone brooking no argument.

"But I'm a sniper," Junes countered, emphasizing his specialization.

Larry's eyes narrowed slightly. "If you can't then leave and you're on your own."

The ultimatum hung in the air between them. Junes knew being alone wasn't an option—not with the dangers they faced. He exhaled slowly, recognizing the logic behind Larry's demand despite his reluctance.

"Alright then, I'll manage somehow," he conceded, his voice tinged with hesitation.

Larry's expression softened marginally. "Sweet! Follow Hime to the training room."

"Follow me," Hime said, unable to hide the enthusiasm in her voice. The prospect of spending time with Junes during training seemed to uplift her mood considerably.

Junes followed behind as they made their way through the compound to the training facility. The room was spacious, with padded flooring and various equipment lining the walls. Upon entering, he was greeted by Arashi and Blond, who seemed to have been expecting his arrival.

"It's a pleasure," Junes said, returning their greeting with a wave.

The training began immediately. Junes was introduced to various fighting stances and basic close combat movements. He concentrated intently, mentally noting each position and technique as they were demonstrated. His background as a sniper meant he had excellent focus and attention to detail, traits that served him well even in this unfamiliar discipline.

From her position at the edge of the room, Hime watched with undisguised interest. Her gaze traced the movements of his body, lingering on the beads of sweat that formed on his brow and rolled down his neck, disappearing beneath his shirt. The intensity in his eyes as he concentrated, the flexing of muscles as he practiced strikes and blocks—all of it captivated her attention. Junes, focused entirely on the training, remained oblivious to her admiring gaze.

The session progressed with Junes gradually gaining confidence in the basic techniques. Though he was far from proficient, his natural athleticism allowed him to grasp the fundamentals more quickly than expected.

As they paused for a brief rest, the training room door slid open to admit Zilant, whose reputation as a master of covert operations preceded him. His presence immediately commanded attention.

"Come to me," Zilant directed at Junes. "I'll now show you basic assassination combat tactics."

"Yes," Junes responded with enthusiasm, recognizing the value of learning from someone with Zilant's expertise.

Under Zilant's guidance, the training intensified. He demonstrated efficient movements designed to incapacitate opponents quickly and silently—techniques that utilized minimal energy while maximizing impact. These were skills that complemented Junes' existing abilities as a sniper, providing him with options for situations when long-range engagement wasn't possible.

Hours passed as they trained relentlessly. The sun traversed the sky, and shadows lengthened across the training room floor. Junes' muscles ached from exertion, but the progress he'd made was undeniable. While he wouldn't be winning any close-quarters combat tournaments, he had developed a functional understanding of how to defend himself and, if necessary, take down an assassinating opponent.

As dusk approached, Larry entered the training room. His timing suggested he'd been monitoring Junes' progress throughout the day. He nodded slightly, a gesture that might have been approval.

"Be prepared," Larry announced. "We will strike the secret hideout of Jack the Sipper. We received information from a trusted source."

Junes exhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself for what lay ahead. Despite his exhaustion from the day's training, adrenaline began to flow at the mention of their target.

"Where is he now?" Junes asked, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Lucky for you, he's in the old warehouse district. Building 7," Larry replied, his tone suggesting the location offered some strategic advantage.

Junes frowned, skepticism evident in his expression. "How are you sure that Jack will be there? I mean, who told you guys?"

"It was informed to us by Jack himself," Larry explained. "He's really a psychopath. He told us to arrive with three people, not more, not less, including you."

The revelation that their quarry had essentially invited them to confront him sent a chill down Junes' spine. It suggested either supreme confidence or a trap—possibly both.

"And the three are?" Junes asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

"Me, you and Raxa," Larry confirmed.

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Raxa approached from across the room. His face held a determined expression that bordered on eagerness.

"I'm ready! Let's go face that psychopathic bastard," Raxa declared, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Junes could only grunt in response, his mind already racing through scenarios and contingencies. The training he'd received today suddenly felt inadequate in the face of confronting someone like Jack the Sipper—a notorious killer whose methods were as brutal as they were effective.

Back in his room, Junes prepared his equipment methodically. His rifle, disassembled and stored in a custom case, was his primary tool. But now, after the day's training, he also included a combat knife and a set of brass knuckles—close-quarters weapons that might make the difference between life and death if things went sideways.

A knock at his door interrupted his preparations. Opening it revealed Hime, her expression now serious, all traces of earlier admiration replaced by professional concern.

"I heard about the mission," she said, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation. "Jack is dangerous. More dangerous than you might realize."

"I'm aware," Junes replied, continuing to check his equipment. "But I don't have much choice, do I?"

Hime watched him for a moment before speaking again. "There's something you should know. Jack doesn't just kill his targets. He... studies them. Learns their weaknesses before he strikes."

Junes paused, looking up at her. "I know. Wait a minute... You think he's been watching me? That's why he specifically requested I be part of the team?"

"It's possible," she admitted. "Just... be careful. Don't let him get inside your head."

The warning sent another chill through Junes, reminding him of the nightmare that had started his day. The jungle, the shadows, the feeling of being hunted—perhaps it hadn't been just a dream but a subconscious recognition of the danger that had been stalking him all along.

"I'll be careful," he promised, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears.

As Hime turned to leave, she hesitated at the doorway. "Junes," she said, not looking back at him. "Come back alive. All of you."

Before he could respond, she was gone, leaving him alone with his preparations and his thoughts.

An hour later, Junes met Larry and Raxa at the facility's garage. A nondescript black vehicle waited for them, its engine already running. No words were exchanged as they loaded their equipment and took their places—Larry driving, Raxa in the passenger seat, Junes in the back.

As they pulled away from the compound, Junes gazed out the window at the darkening sky.

Tonight, they would face a monster in human form. The moment of hope he had allowed himself earlier seemed distant now, replaced by a grim determination to survive whatever trap awaited them at Warehouse 7.

The vehicle accelerated into the night, carrying them toward their confrontation with Jack the Sipper.