Raymond vs. Cops — Part 1

Section 1: Broken Lips, I Choose You!

The heavy rain had finally stopped, leaving the streets of Flushing City wet and glistening beneath the streetlights.

Chief Grayson stood before his officers with one hand on his hip. Suddenly, he struck a ridiculous pose and dramatically pointed toward Raymond.

“Broken Lips, I choose you!”

He sounded exactly like a Pokémon trainer sending his Pokémon into battle.

The officers exchanged bewildered glances. Broken Lips slowly turned toward his Chief, his mouth still swollen from the earlier baton attack.

“What?! Why is it always me?! I was the first one last time, too! Can’t you send somebody else first?!”

Grayson ignored his protests and quietly backed away behind the other officers until he was safely standing beside the delivery girl.

He pointed impatiently at Broken Lips.

“Get your ass over there! Keep stalling, and I’ll smash those lips again! Don’t test me!”

The delivery girl, however, was far more supportive. She raised a clenched fist and cheered him on enthusiastically.

“You can do it, Broken Lips! I believe in you! If anyone can bring back the old Raymond, it’s you!”

Her encouragement was completely sincere.

Broken Lips glanced at her, then let out a long, theatrical sigh. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. After taking a slow drag, he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and nodded confidently.

“All right, then! If none of you has the guts to do it, I guess I’ll have to handle this myself!”

With his cigarette hanging from his lips, Broken Lips slowly and dramatically catwalked toward Raymond. Like a professional fashion model showing off the latest spring collection, he swung his hips from side to side with every step.

Finally, he stopped directly in front of Raymond and pointed his finger just three centimeters from Raymond’s cheek.

“Listen up, you evil bastard! You’ve got ten seconds to surrender! Otherwise, I swear I’ll beat your face so badly, my busted lips will look beautiful by comparison!”

Raymond barely tilted his head. His pitch-black eyes remained expressionless as Dark Energy swirled around his body.

He spoke in a cold, emotionless voice.

“You’re wasting your breath.”

Without even looking at the officer, Raymond continued.

“I hear only the sound… of shattering glass.”

Section 2: The Weakest Pokémon

From behind the officers, the delivery girl began bouncing excitedly on her toes, pumping both fists like a cheerleader.

“Come on! Woohoo! You can do it, Broken Lips! You’re my hero! You look amazing! I love you!”

She cheered like a fangirl at a K-pop concert.

Grayson stole a sideways glance at her. Her youthful energy, beautiful face, and long black hair were exactly what he found attractive. But what really caught his attention was her bouncing breasts. He simply couldn’t take his eyes off them.

And just like that, he fell in love again. Or at least, with her breasts.

Meanwhile, Broken Lips was enjoying every second of the girl’s enthusiastic support. Broken Lips took the cigarette from his mouth and held its glowing tip just three centimeters from Raymond’s cheek. With a confident smirk, he began his countdown.

“Ten… nine… eight—”

Before he could finish, Raymond casually slapped him across the face.

WHAAAACK!

Broken Lips went flying backward through the air. He crashed onto the wet pavement and continued sliding across the smooth road like a hockey puck, finally coming to a stop more than twenty meters away.

The entire street fell silent.

The delivery girl froze mid-cheer, her fists still raised. Slowly, she lowered her hands and stared at the motionless officer in disbelief.

“Oh no… Turns out Broken Lips…”

She paused, her face filled with disappointment.

“…is just too weak.”

Meanwhile, Broken Lips lay flat on the pavement, fully conscious.

Despite being sent flying over twenty meters, he had suffered only minor injuries. His uniform was torn, his skin was scraped, and his body ached, but he was still perfectly capable of standing up.

Unfortunately, his injuries weren’t the problem.

It was fear.

That single slap had sent him flying without Raymond even trying. Broken Lips couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen if Raymond struck him with full force. His head might actually explode!

The thought alone made his entire body tremble. Then a warm sensation spread through his pants.

He had pissed himself.

There was absolutely no way he was getting back up to fight that monster.

So Broken Lips made the smartest decision of his entire police career.

He closed his eyes and pretended to be unconscious.

Back with the other officers, the delivery girl sighed in disappointment and turned toward Grayson.

“Well… Looks like it’s time for the next one!”

Grayson nodded calmly, showing absolutely no concern for his fallen subordinate.

“Don’t worry about him! He’s the weakest guy on our team anyway!”

He turned toward another officer and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I choose you! Go!”

But who was the next unfortunate officer?

Section 3: Split Pants Evolved

A tall, skinny officer stood stiffly as Grayson placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Chief… Is it my turn?”

Grayson flashed a crooked smile and pointed straight at the officer’s crotch.

“Yup! From now on, you’re Split Pants! Look at you! Your pants are split wide open, and everyone can see your pink underwear! No doubt about it!”

The officer looked down. Sure enough, a large tear ran across the crotch of his uniform pants, exposing the bright pink underwear beneath.

Standing nearby, the delivery girl gasped and immediately covered her eyes with both hands. But curiosity quickly got the better of her. She peeked through the gaps between her fingers, her gaze settling on a rather noticeable bulge beneath the pink fabric.

Split Pants, however, seemed completely unfazed by the embarrassment.

Without a word, he shrugged off his uniform jacket and tossed it aside, revealing a tight black tank top that showed off his lean, wiry muscles. He then dropped his police baton onto the pavement and pulled a rusty metal pipe from his belt.

The pipe was badly corroded, looking as though it had been pulled straight out of a sewer.

The delivery girl’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Whoa! Split Pants just evolved! I can feel it! His power level must’ve gone up by at least fifty percent!”

Split Pants gripped the pipe tightly, his expression turning deadly serious. He lowered his head and closed his eyes.

“I can’t afford to lose this fight. Not today. Because I’m not just fighting for myself… I’m fighting for my families!”

And he meant families. Plural.

Split Pants had two wives, each with a whole bunch of children. Supporting both households was no easy task, so he worked two jobs—police officer by day and low-level gangster by night.

His sunken cheeks, hollow eyes, and exhausted expression told the story of a man who had spent years struggling to feed far too many mouths.

For a brief moment, he pictured his two wives standing on either side of him, each resting a hand on his shoulder. Behind them stretched an enormous crowd of children, their hopeful little faces looking up at him. His dog stood on its hind legs, resting both front paws against his butt because it was too short to reach his shoulders.

Then his eyes snapped open, burning with determination.

He tightened his grip on the rusty pipe until his fingers left small dents in the metal.

With a fierce expression, Split Pants spread his legs wide and lowered himself into a powerful horse stance.

RRRRRIP!

The crotch of his uniform pants suddenly split apart even further, exposing his bright pink underwear in all its glory.

And right in the middle, an enormous bulge pressed proudly against the fabric.

The delivery girl froze. Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushed pink, and she slowly licked her lips.

“Oh my… That’s massive.”

Section 4: For My Families

Split Pants pointed his rusty metal pipe straight at Raymond, his eyes blazing with determination.

“You think you can beat me?! You’ve got nothing worth fighting for! But me? I’m fighting for something noble! Something real! The love of my families!”

Watching from the sidelines, the delivery girl was deeply moved by his passionate declaration.

“This world needs more men like him! Men with real responsibility… real masculinity!”

Grayson glanced at her admiring expression, his face twisting with jealousy.

“That guy?! Responsibility?! He’s got TWO wives, for Christ’s sake!”

Meanwhile, Split Pants gripped his metal pipe and began spinning it around his body like a kung fu master wielding a staff. The rusty pipe whirled around his shoulders, waist, and arms, spinning faster and faster as he built up momentum for twenty full seconds.

Without breaking the motion, Split Pants launched himself half a meter into the air, gripping the pipe with both hands and raising it high above his head.

“FOR MY FAMILIES! FOR MY TWO WIVES!”

With every ounce of strength he could muster, he brought the rusty pipe crashing down toward Raymond’s head.

The delivery girl clasped her hands against her chest, overwhelmed by his courage and devotion.

“Split Pants! I’m rooting for you! And if you don’t mind, I wanna be your third wife!”

Grayson nearly threw up. His fists clenched as he glared furiously at the officer in his torn pants.

That’s it! If we survive this, I’m firing that bastard! I’ll announce it in front of everyone!

Yet even in the middle of his jealous rage, Grayson couldn’t resist admiring the delivery girl’s long legs and short skirt. He bent down slightly, hoping to sneak a peek underneath.

Meanwhile, Raymond finally reacted.

Without the slightest change in expression, he tilted his head upward and casually raised his clenched fist into the path of the descending pipe.

CLAAAAANG!

The rusty metal pipe collided with Raymond’s bare fist, producing a deafening metallic crash.

A piercing, high-pitched screech followed, sending painful vibrations through the air. Everyone nearby instinctively covered their ears, their faces twisting in discomfort.

Even the delivery girl winced, pressing both hands against her head.

“Oh my God! My eardrums!”

Section 5: Resonance of Doom

The moment Raymond’s fist collided with the rusty metal pipe, a devastating wave of vibration shot through the weapon and instantly spread throughout Split Pants’ entire body, violently shaking his muscles, bones, and internal organs.

Still suspended in midair, Split Pants began vibrating at such an incredible frequency that his body and the metal pipe blurred together into a distorted, trembling figure. With nowhere to escape, the energy continued bouncing back and forth inside him, destroying his body from within.

Then he crashed onto the pavement with a heavy thud.

The instant his body struck the ground, the vibration finally traveled into the earth and dissipated. His trembling silhouette slowly returned to normal, leaving him sprawled across the wet street.

Raymond kept his fist raised, barely bothering to glance at his fallen opponent. He already knew the fight was over.

Behind him, Split Pants lay motionless, blood trickling from his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. The devastating vibration had left his internal organs severely damaged.

Yet somehow, he was still conscious.

With trembling hands, Split Pants reached for his rusty metal pipe and struggled to push himself upright. The weapon he had wielded so proudly just moments earlier had now become his walking cane.

Two nearby officers watched in horror as he struggled to remain standing.

“Split Pants! Stop! The fight’s over! You don’t have to keep going!”

Another officer desperately called out to him.

“Please! You’ve done enough! Don’t fight anymore!”

But Split Pants gave no answer. He had no intention of fighting anymore.

Instead, he slowly turned away from Raymond and began limping toward home, leaning heavily on his pipe like an elderly man struggling to walk.

Every step was agony. His legs trembled, his breathing grew weaker, and blood continued dripping onto the pavement. Yet he refused to stop.

In a faint, trembling voice, he began murmuring to himself.

“Wife No. 1… Wife No. 2… My sons… my daughters… my dog…”

He tightened his grip on the pipe and dragged himself another painful step forward.

“No matter what… I’ll make it home… I’ll see you all again…”

And so Split Pants continued his lonely journey down the deserted street, leaving the stunned officers behind.

Section 6: The Fallen Family Man

Grayson watched Split Pants limp away, leaning heavily on his rusty metal pipe. Furious that his officer was abandoning the fight, he stormed forward and shouted.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Where the hell are you going, Split Pants?! You idiot! Get your ass back here! NOW!”

But Split Pants gave no response. He continued dragging himself down the deserted street, each step slower and more painful than the last.

Grayson was about to unleash another furious outburst when two officers hurried over and gently grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Chief, please… Let him go. Split Pants is done for. He doesn’t have much time left.”

Another officer shook his head, his voice trembling.

“Look at him, Chief… He could collapse any second…”

Grayson froze. Only then did he notice the trail of blood stretching behind Split Pants, his trembling legs, and the desperate way he clung to his rusty pipe just to stay upright.

What the hell…? Is he really dying?

His anger slowly faded as the terrible reality began to sink in. For once, the Chief had no orders to give and no insults to throw. He could only stand there, watching his wounded officer struggle toward home.

The other officers watched helplessly as Split Pants continued limping into the darkness, still faintly murmuring about his two wives, his children, and his beloved dog.

Even Grayson’s eyes began to glisten.

Then, without warning, Split Pants collapsed.

THUD!

His body struck the wet pavement and lay motionless.

A moment later, the rusty metal pipe slipped from his hand and hit the ground.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The pipe bounced several times, then spun slowly across the pavement before coming to a complete stop. Its final metallic echoes faded into the deserted street.

And then, silence.

The officers stood frozen, staring at their fallen comrade. One lowered his head and began to cry, while another wiped his eyes, struggling desperately to hold back his tears.

The delivery girl dropped to her knees, covering her face with both hands as she broke into uncontrollable sobs.

Grayson remained standing where he was, staring at Split Pants in disbelief. His lips trembled, but no words came out.

For the first time that night, he didn’t look like an arrogant police chief. He simply looked human.

And there, on the cold pavement, lay the man who had fought for his two wives, his countless children, and his beloved dog.

Split Pants would never make it home.

Section 7: Live to Tell the Tale

While everyone mourned the fallen Split Pants, another officer lay motionless about twenty meters away.

Broken Lips.

He hadn’t been unconscious at all. He’d been faking it ever since Raymond slapped him across the face.

Now, hearing the officers crying in the distance, he cautiously opened one eye.

Grayson stood frozen in grief, the delivery girl was sobbing uncontrollably, and the other officers were too busy mourning their fallen comrade to notice him.

Thank God I played dead! They’re all distracted… Now’s my chance to get the hell out of here!

Once he was sure nobody was watching, Broken Lips quickly opened his other eye. Then he rolled onto his stomach and began crawling away on his elbows, keeping his body as low as possible.

Like a frightened snake, he slithered across the wet pavement, inching farther and farther away from the battlefield.

Ten meters… twenty meters… thirty meters…

Once he was safely out of sight, Broken Lips sprang to his feet and sprinted away as fast as his legs could carry him.

“This is a fucking war zone! Nobody’s paying me enough for this shit!”

He ran for several blocks without looking back, terrified that Raymond might come after him.

Only after reaching the bustling city center did he finally slow down. Surrounded by brightly lit storefronts and glowing neon signs, he leaned against a lamppost, panting heavily as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Jesus Christ… That was scary!”

He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

After everything he’d witnessed tonight, the last thing he wanted was to return to the battlefield. He desperately needed something to calm his nerves and take his mind off the nightmare.

Just then, a glowing red sign across the street caught his attention.

Sakura Spa

Broken Lips stared at the sign for a moment.

That’s it! I need a hooker to calm my nerves!

A faint smile slowly spread across his swollen lips.

Without another word, he crossed the street and walked inside.