It was another busy day in the Sima Hills Police Headquarters that Friday morning, but for a rather different reason. The long-awaited announcement from the Mayor was due that day.
The press conference room of the Headquarters was abuzz with murmurs and the clicking of camera shutters as reporters jostled for suitable positions. Officers, including Denar, Nadine, and Awo, filled the back rows, their uniforms neat and their expressions a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
Denar looked around, his heart pounding with wonder. What Nadine and Awo had mentioned two days earlier was finally happening. As far as the ladies were concerned, this announcement was well overdue, considering the man had been on the wrong end of Doomblade’s wickedness; his son had been an unfortunate victim of the man’s twisted attacks.
So as many of them sat there, patiently waiting for the press statement to begin, they expected nothing but a statement of action from the city’s leader. Denar was one of them. He might have been with the force for just a couple of days, but the knowledge that he was a potential target for Doomblade did not make him comfortable at all. Hearing plans to protect them would be much appreciated.
At the front of the room, the Inspector General of Police (IGP) stepped to the podium, his face solemn but resolute.
“Honourable Mayor of Sima Hills, distinguished members of the press, esteemed colleagues from various law enforcement agencies, ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice steady. “Good morning to you all, and thank you for being here today. We are gathered to address a matter of great importance—one that threatens the safety and unity of Sima Hills. We are all aware of the danger that is Doomblade, and how he continues to threaten the safety and well-being of every inhabitant of Sima Hills, and particularly, our esteemed police force. To this end, I would like to introduce our honorable Mayor, Mr. Thomas Asare, who has a special announcement for us.”
The room fell silent as Mayor Asare rose from his seat and took the podium. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a commanding presence and a heaviness in his eyes. He gripped the edges of the podium tightly as he began to speak, his voice steady but tinged with a bit of grief.
“Good morning, everybody,” he began, scanning the room. “This morning, I speak not just as the Mayor of Sima Hills, but as a father… a grieving father.”
A collective hush swept over the room. Everyone understood how devastated the man still felt about his personal tragedy.
“Over the past year, Doomblade’s madness has escalated beyond comprehension. His attacks have become more frequent, more brutal, and more indiscriminate. Ten of our brave officers—dedicated men and women who swore to protect this city—have lost their lives at his hands.” He paused, his voice breaking slightly. “One of those officers… the very first one to go down… was my son, Isaac.”
The room felt like it held its breath. Corporal Isaac Asare had suffered the same fate as the recently deceased officer, getting struck in the forehead with the infamous ninja star. And indeed, he was the first officer to be downed in this brutal fashion.
Denar glanced at Awo and Nadine, both of whom stared forward, their faces unreadable. He shook his head sadly. Such a heartbreaking story.
“Doomblade was once a figure of good, a symbol of resistance against injustice. But that man no longer exists. What stands in his place now is a twisted, evil force—a scourge upon this city. His actions have made it clear that he is an enemy of peace and progress, and we cannot allow him to continue wreaking havoc on us, destroying families and perpetuating terror all around.”
The Mayor straightened up, his tone growing firm. “That is why I am announcing today that taking down Doomblade is now this city’s top priority. To support our brave police officers in this fight, the city council has approved a significant increase in the police budget. We will spare no expense to ensure that Doomblade is brought to justice.”
A wave of murmurs rippled through the room, followed by scattered applause. Many officers in attendance exchanged glances, their eyes bright with anticipation.
“With this increased budget,” the Mayor continued, “we will equip our dedicated force with state-of-the-art technology, including surveillance drones, advanced body armor, high-speed pursuit vehicles, and specialized training in counter-vigilante tactics. We will also establish a dedicated task force—Operation Shadowfall—focused solely on tracking and neutralizing Doomblade.”
Cheers erupted among the officers, their earlier somber expressions replaced with grins and nods of approval. Denar found himself swept up in their energy.
“As your Mayor,” Asare concluded, his voice rising with determination, “I promise you this: Doomblade will be stopped. Sima Hills will not bow to fear. We are stopping at nothing to ensure true justice prevails in this city. Together, we will restore peace to our city and honor the memory of those we’ve lost.”
The room burst into applause, and the reporters began shouting questions, their cameras flashing in rapid succession. The Mayor stepped back, and the IGP returned to the podium to field questions.
Denar felt a surge of relief flood his system. It might have tarried, as far as Nadine and Awo were concerned, but it truly was a relief to hear this. With the authorities aiming to topple this creep’s reign of terror, he could now sleep a little better. All things being equal, whoever this devious bastard was, he would be defeated.
And Sima Hills could live in peace.
***
Back in the locker room at the Sima Hills Police Department, the trio busily strapped on their gear and secured their weapons for the daily patrol. The press conference was long over, and it was time for them to ensure order on the streets of Sima Hills as usual.
Denar broke the silence, his voice contemplative as he adjusted his holster. “Chale, about that press conference… hearing Mayor Asare talk about his son like that… it was so sad.”
Awo nodded solemnly, but Nadine, while adjusting her cap, gave a slight, thoughtful nod. “Yeah, it was sad,” she agreed, then hesitated before adding, “But, you know, Isaac wasn’t exactly the sweetest guy ever.”
Denar looked up, his eyebrows arching in surprise. “Really? Why do you say so?”
Nadine shrugged, her expression one of irritation as she recounted, “He was a bit of a creep, to be honest. He tried to hit on me once, way too aggressively. Acting like he had the right to a ‘yes’ from me and all that misogynistic foolishness. I had to remind him I have a brown belt in karate, and I wouldn’t mind kicking his ass up and down the headquarters if he fooled around.” She made a small, dismissive gesture with her hand. “He backed off after that, but still…”
Denar’s jaw dropped, then chuckled. “Ei, saa? You’re a belt away from the black belt? Eish, Sima Hills’ own Michelle Yeoh!”
Nadine and Awo laughed. “Herh, don’t come and stress me, wai!” Nadine warned.
Awo snickered. “Nadine diɛɛ, nobody messes with her oo. She’ll flatten you, sharp!”
Denar giggled. “I can see. Please, I won’t annoy you, wai. I promise to behave around you.” His tone then returned to serious as Nadine shook her head in amusement. “But that was disturbing, mohm. For a fellow officer to harass you.”
Nadine shrugged. “Well, at least he learned not to mess with me quickly. Doesn’t mean he deserved what he got, mohm. Still pretty sad.”
Awo nodded. “Yeah. It was. It all happened before I came here, so… never met him. Hmm, that Doomblade asshole. The sooner he’s dealt with, the better for us all. Anyways, let’s get moving.”
***
The wind howled at the top of the skyscraper, tugging at his dark and slightly oversized hoodie.
He stood on the edge of the roof, perfectly still, his sharp eyes scanning the city below. Sima Hills was stretched out before him as a labyrinth of shimmering lights, winding roads, and restless movement. From this vantage point, he could see nearly everything.
And that wasn’t just a literal statement. He actually could see… everything.
His vision, sharper than the average human’s, could hone in on the slightest details. He could see any evil criminal looking to harass the average citizen. He could see any corrupt officer pretending to uphold the law. He could see who was breaching justice and needed a star as punishment.
Words could not describe how good he felt whenever he stood atop these buildings and watched every ongoing activity in the city. It made him feel…
Invincible.
As he ought to. After all, Sima Hills needed him. They could not understand what justice truly entailed. He knew what real justice was, and he was delivering it, despite their dissenting opinions about his methods.
He observed around keenly.
A street vendor arguing with a customer three blocks away. A stray cat darting into an alley to avoid an oncoming car. The faint glow of a police cruiser’s lights as it idled at a corner.
He watched it all, his mind cataloging every movement with mechanical precision.
Clutched in his gloved hand was one of his signature weapons—a sleek, star-shaped blade, its edges gleaming wickedly under the pale moonlight. He absently spun it between his fingers.
Each star he carried was perfectly balanced and designed for deadly accuracy. With his almost supernatural precision, he never missed a target. He had never practiced or anything; it just came to him naturally. As natural as his eagle-like sight and ability to scale heights.
After several minutes of silence and observation, Doomblade lowered the blade and exhaled softly.
“No enemies at work so far,” he muttered to himself, his deep voice barely audible above the wind. His gaze shifted to a nearby rooftop where a pair of officers patrolled cautiously.
A faint snarl darkened his face. How he despised the men and women in blue! As far as he was concerned, they had zero right to do what they did; keeping the peace and arresting criminals for wrongdoings. How could they profess to uphold justice when they fought against it?
He then shook his head. Tonight was not the night for dealing with them.
“Not worth worrying about for now.”
He stepped back from the ledge, his eyes narrowed, and his snarl growing darker. “There are other enemies to deal with. Ones who are speaking foolishness. It is time to deal with them.”
Without another word, he turned and strode toward the center of the rooftop. His movements were almost unnervingly smooth, as if his body defied the limitations of ordinary human physiology. Within seconds, he disappeared into the shadows.
Well, we’ve seen him up close, and it looks like he has a chip on his shoulder, and an agenda against the police. Why, though? And who are the other enemies he’s talking about?
