Humbleism – Part 1

Section 1: Kyle the Ghoster

It had been another intense battle in bed.

Dinello and Jessica had gone at it all night—limbs tangled, energy drained. By noon the next day, Dinello was still fast asleep, snoring softly and completely wiped out.

Suddenly—

WOOF! WOOF!

His phone barked like a mad dog. It was his custom notification sound, a twisted canine howl that shattered the silence and jerked him awake.

Eyes barely open, Dinello yawned and groped around the nightstand until he found his phone. He squinted at the screen.

Then his eyes flew wide open.

“Holy crap! I don’t believe it!”

Dinello sprang straight up from the mattress in excitement—and slammed his head into the ceiling.

BANG!

“Ow!”

He dropped back onto the bed, clutching the top of his head, but the huge grin on his face never disappeared.

The commotion startled Jessica. “What is it…?” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

Dinello didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at his phone. A moment later, Jessica rolled over and went right back to sleep.

It was a message from Kyle—the old friend who had blocked him just three days ago without warning, cutting him off with nothing but a silent red exclamation mark.

But now Kyle had messaged him first.

“Hey bro. Are you free at 1 PM today? Want to catch up at Kissena Park?”

Dinello’s expression softened. He sat on the edge of the bed, a nostalgic smile slowly spreading across his face.

“I knew it. Old friendships die hard.”

He quickly typed back:

“I’ll be there. 1 PM sharp.”

Kyle responded almost immediately.

“Awesome. See you soon.”

Dinello smiled and started typing again, slower this time.

“Sounds good. See you in a bit… pal.”

He hit send.

A huge red exclamation mark appeared beside the message.

“Message failed to send. You’ve been blocked by the recipient.”

Dinello froze.

“…No fucking way.”

His hand began to tremble as the smile vanished from his face.

Then—

WHAM!

He hurled his phone onto the floor.

“SON OF A BITCH!!”

His voice thundered across the room. Beside him, Jessica nearly jumped out of her skin.

Then the room went silent.

Section 2: Pastor Simon Returns

At exactly 1:00 PM, Dinello arrived at Kissena Park.

Wearing his usual unbuttoned Zhongshan suit, he spotted Kyle standing beneath a large tree and walked straight toward him.

“Why did you block me again?!” Dinello barked. “Tell me why. I demand an explanation!”

Kyle stared ahead blankly.

“I’m just a tool today. I have no personal comments to offer.”

Dinello frowned. “What the hell are you talki—”

A man stepped out from behind the tree.

Dinello stopped.

He wore a white shirt and black slacks, with short hair and a pair of big-framed glasses. Beneath his shirt, his massive C-cup pecs bulged prominently from his chest.

The man stepped forward with a smug smile.

“We meet again… mortal.”

Dinello narrowed his eyes.

“Semen.”

Pastor Simon had returned.

Kyle stood rigidly beneath the tree, his eyes dull and lifeless. Despite his flesh-and-blood body, there was something almost inhuman about him.

Simon chuckled.

“Kyle, today you will serve as the Holy Shield. You will offer yourself to His Majesty and become the divine armor—the sacred barrier that protects the truth.”

He raised one hand.

“In the name of Humbleism, you shall become the Human Shield.”

Dinello looked at Kyle, then back at Pastor Simon, completely baffled.

“What the hell is going on?”

Pastor Simon simply let out a sinister chuckle.

Section 3: The Human Shield

Pastor Simon raised his voice and proclaimed:

“Kyle—in the name of Humbleism, do your thing.”

Kyle immediately snapped to attention. His arms locked against his sides, his feet pressed together, and his back went perfectly straight. His entire body became stiff as a board.

Dinello stared at him. “What the hell…?”

Simon grabbed Kyle by the neck and lifted him off the ground with one hand, swinging his rigid body in front of himself like a riot shield.

Dinello’s eyes widened. “What the hell are you doing to him?!”

Simon grinned.

“Kyle, you are now complete. You are the Holy Tool—the Human Shield. Your body shall bear every blow for the glory of Humbleism.”

Dinello stared at Kyle. “Kyle! Snap out of it! He’s brainwashed you!”

Kyle gave no response. His face remained blank, his dull eyes staring straight ahead.

“Kyle!”

Nothing. Not even a blink.

Dinello gritted his teeth and turned his attention back to Pastor Simon. He lowered himself into a wide stance and clenched his fists as qi surged through his arms.

Then he launched forward, shooting across the dirt and driving a straight punch toward Simon’s face.

Simon didn’t move. At the last second, he simply raised Kyle in front of him.

Dinello’s eyes widened. “Shit!”

He dug his heels into the dirt and twisted his waist backward, yanking his shoulder and arm against the punch’s momentum. He managed to strip almost ninety percent of the power from the blow—but it was too late.

THUD!

His fist slammed straight into Kyle’s face, snapping his head to the side. His cheek immediately began to swell as dark bruising spread across his face.

Dinello froze.

Kyle didn’t cry out, flinch, or even blink. His dull eyes continued staring straight ahead as if nothing had happened.

Dinello slowly lowered his fist.

“Kyle…?”

That hesitation was all Simon needed.

His fist shot out from behind Kyle and smashed into Dinello’s face.

WHAM!

Dinello’s head whipped backward. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his feet left the ground, and his entire body flew backward across the park. He crashed onto the dirt and rolled several times before finally skidding to a stop.

Simon remained where he was, still holding Kyle in front of him.

Dinello coughed and pushed himself onto one knee. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth as he looked back at the pastor.

That punch had been no joke.

Beneath that white shirt, Simon’s massive C-cup pecs weren’t just for show.

Dinello wiped the blood from his lips and forced himself back to his feet.

Across from him, Simon raised the Human Shield once again.

“Is this all the great Dinello can do?” he called out. “I pity you, mortal.”

Dinello said nothing. His eyes shifted from Simon to Kyle.

For the first time, he realized the real problem.

How the hell was he supposed to hit Simon without hurting his friend?

Section 4: The Mortal’s Hesitation

Dinello studied Simon and the Human Shield for a moment, then attacked again.

He tried from above, then the left, then the right. It made no difference. Each time, Simon simply swung Kyle into the path of the attack, forcing Dinello to pull back before his fist could connect.

Dinello paused for a second, his eyes dropping toward Simon’s legs.

There.

That had to be the opening.

Kyle could protect Simon’s upper body, but his legs were still exposed. More importantly, none of Kyle’s vital areas were anywhere near the ground. Even if Dinello clipped one of his legs, it wouldn’t be nearly as dangerous as striking him in the head or chest.

Dinello immediately dropped low and planted one hand on the ground. His hips twisted violently as his other leg whipped around in a vicious low sweep.

WHOOOSH!

His heel tore through the air with tremendous speed and force. The wind from the kick sliced through the grass beneath it, sending severed blades scattering across the ground.

His heel was heading straight for Simon’s ankle.

Simon looked down.

Without changing his expression, he rotated his arm.

Kyle flipped upside down in his hand. His feet swung upward as his head dropped straight into the path of Dinello’s kick.

Dinello’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

His heel was only inches away from smashing straight through Kyle’s head. At that speed, his skull would totally burst like a watermelon.

“SHIT!”

Dinello forced his kicking leg to stop, but the momentum of his body kept carrying him around. His torso twisted through another half-turn before he finally caught himself in a low, awkward squat—with his back facing Simon.

For one ridiculous second, Dinello looked like he was squatting over an invisible toilet.

His ass was completely exposed.

Simon looked down at him.

Then he raised one leg.

BANG!

Simon planted his foot straight into Dinello’s ass.

Dinello’s entire body shot forward.

“AAAAAH! MY FUCKING ASS!”

He flew several meters before crashing shoulder-first into the ground. The impact sent him tumbling violently across the park, rolling over and over through the dirt and grass for nearly twenty meters before finally coming to a stop.

Dinello immediately planted one hand against the ground and forced himself back onto his feet.

“BLEGH!”

A mouthful of blood splattered onto the grass.

Breathing heavily, Dinello wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at Simon, who was still standing in the same spot with Kyle held in front of him.

Dinello didn’t attack again. Nothing he had tried so far could get past that ridiculous Human Shield.

He needed some time to think.

He stayed where he was, keeping his distance while his eyes moved between Simon and Kyle, searching for another way to attack without hurting his friend.

Simon watched him quietly.

Then a slow smile spread across his face.

Still holding Kyle with one hand, he bent down and picked up five rocks from the ground.

Before Dinello could figure out what he was planning, Simon suddenly pulled his arm back and fired the first one.

BOOM!

The rock broke the sound barrier.

It caught Dinello completely off guard. He jerked aside at the last possible moment, but the rock still grazed his upper arm, tearing through the sleeve of his Zhongshan suit and slicing open his skin before slamming into the ground behind him.

BANG!

The earth shook. Dirt, grass, and gravel exploded into the air as if a charge of dynamite had detonated beneath the ground.

Dinello’s eyes widened.

“What the fuck?!”

Simon was already throwing the rest.

The next three rocks screamed through the park one after another at supersonic speed. Now prepared, Dinello ducked, twisted, and threw himself aside, narrowly avoiding each one.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

The ground erupted behind him again and again, each impact shaking the earth and blasting dirt and gravel high into the air like explosives detonating across the park.

But Simon never gave him a chance to recover.

The fifth rock was already coming.

Dinello saw it.

His body simply couldn’t move fast enough.

BANG!

The rock smashed into the side of his waist.

“GAH!”

Dinello was knocked sideways, blood spraying from the impact as he crashed onto the ground.

That was the last one.

Simon’s hand was empty.

Dinello immediately forced himself back up, one hand pressed against his bleeding waist as he stared at Simon.

Five rocks.

He had survived five.

Barely.

If Simon had been holding even two more, Dinello knew he wouldn’t have been able to keep dodging. At that speed and power, the next clean hit could punch straight through his chest.

He had gotten lucky.

Then Simon bent down.

Still holding Kyle with one hand, he reached toward the ground for another handful of rocks.

Dinello’s expression changed immediately.

He couldn’t stay there and wait for another round.

He had to attack.

Now.

Section 5: Total Concentration Breathing

Simon reached toward the ground for another handful of rocks.

Dinello knew he couldn’t let that happen.

But how the hell was he supposed to get past Kyle?

Suddenly, two images flashed through Dinello’s mind.

First came Jessica, standing before him with a gentle smile, her ponytail resting over one shoulder.

“I believe in you,” she said softly. “You can do it.”

Her voice filled Dinello with a sudden burst of courage.

Then came his master, Mario.

Dinello saw him sprinting down the tracks beside a speeding passenger train, sword at his waist, his legs becoming a blur as he activated his legendary technique—

TOTAL CONCENTRATION BREATHING — FIRST FORM: SHADOWLINE SURGE.

Dinello’s eyes widened.

Jessica had given him the encouragement.

Mario had given him the inspiration.

And thanks to the miraculous convenience of plot armor, an idea immediately popped into Dinello’s head.

“That’s it.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny folding knife. The blade was barely longer than his finger—cheap, scratched, and perfectly suitable for opening packages.

Only five dollars each. Available at almost any convenience store near you.

Dinello lowered his body and tightened his grip around the tiny knife.

“TOTAL CONCENTRATION BREATHING — SECOND FORM: LIGHTNING SNAKE!”

Dinello vanished.

Simon immediately abandoned his attempt to pick up the rocks and raised Kyle in front of himself.

The grass beneath Dinello’s feet burst apart as he shot forward, cutting sharply from side to side in an unpredictable zigzag.

Left. Right. Left again.

Simon swung Kyle from side to side, desperately trying to keep the Human Shield between them, but Dinello kept changing direction faster and faster. His path twisted across the park like a bolt of lightning crawling along the ground.

Simon’s eyes darted from side to side.

“Where the hell—”

Dinello suddenly disappeared behind a tree.

Simon froze.

“OH SHIT!”

A presence appeared behind him.

Simon spun around.

Dinello was already there.

He had completely bypassed the Human Shield.

Dinello raised the tiny folding knife above his head as though he were holding a legendary sword.

“TOTAL CONCENTRATION BREATHING — THIRD FORM: SHADOW STRIKE!!”

He swung.

The tiny blade flashed downward toward Simon’s neck.

Simon’s eyes widened.

For the first time in a long time, Pastor Simon saw—

DEATH.

Section 6: The Doctrine of Humbleism

The tiny blade descended toward Simon’s neck.

Ten centimeters.

Five.

One.

Shadow Strike was too fast. Simon’s body hadn’t even had time to react. He remained frozen in place as the blade reached his neck.

For one terrifying instant, he truly believed he was going to die.

Then—

BANG!

A foot shot in from the side and kicked the folding knife straight out of Dinello’s hand.

The tiny folding knife spun through the air and disappeared into the grass.

Dinello’s eyes widened.

“What the—”

Before he could finish, a fist slammed into his chest.

BOOM!

Dinello flew backward like a cannonball, crashing into the ground and tumbling nearly thirty meters across the park before finally coming to a stop.

A figure landed between Dinello and Pastor Simon.

He dropped onto one knee, his right fist extended toward the ground, a briefcase in his left hand.

For a moment, he stayed perfectly still.

Then he slowly raised his head.

Sunlight flashed across a pair of golden-rimmed glasses.

Michael—Captain Lam.

Dinello coughed and pushed himself onto one knee.

Before he could say anything, another figure suddenly dropped from a nearby tree.

THUD!

He landed beside Michael in almost exactly the same pose—one knee on the ground, one fist planted against the earth.

Then he slowly raised his head.

He wore a white tank top and black Nike shorts. Behind his eyes, a faint golden light began to glow.

The Golden Eyes.

Brian.

Dinello stared at the two men for a moment, then wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and forced himself back onto his feet.

A bitter smile appeared on his face.

“What brought two senior members of the Humble Organization out here today?”

Michael stood up and calmly adjusted his golden-rimmed glasses.

Dinello continued, “I’m not here on business. I’m here to settle something personal. Please… don’t interfere.”

Michael looked at him quietly.

Then he spoke.

“Pastor Simon is the leader of Humbleism.”

Michael turned slightly toward Pastor Simon.

“And Humbleism belongs to the Humble Organization.”

Dinello fell silent.

Michael adjusted his glasses once more.

“You messed with the wrong guy.”