Missionary Rumble

Section 1: Voices of Salvation

Dinello walked casually down the street, one hand beneath his chin as he thought about dinner. “What should I eat tonight?” he muttered. Ramen sounded good. Maybe fried rice. Or barbecue.

The setting sun painted the sky orange-red. Cars rolled along the road, pedestrians crossed the intersection, and a light breeze moved through the trees. Everything around him seemed perfectly peaceful.

Then a deep male voice rang in his ear.

“Simon loves you.”

Dinello frowned but kept walking. For a moment, he wondered if he had imagined it.

“Pastor Simon is your salvation.”

His hand slowly dropped from his chin. The voice sounded strangely close, almost as if someone were speaking directly into his mind. Then a woman’s soft, heavenly voice joined in.

“Join us. Eternal life awaits you.”

Am I hearing things? Is it a ghost? Or some kind of awakened power?

The voices continued. Simon loved him. Simon would save him. Eternal life awaited him. At first, Dinello was genuinely curious about where the voices were coming from.

But they just kept going.

And going.

Nonstop.

The same words rang in his ears like two monks chanting directly into his head. Whatever mystery he had felt quickly disappeared. Now it was simply annoying. Dinello tried to think about dinner again, but they never gave him a second of silence. Eventually, his eyebrow began to twitch.

That was it.

Dinello whipped his head to the side.

A man was right beside his left ear.

A woman was right beside his right.

Both were walking alongside him, leaning toward his ears and chanting away.

“All right, stop it, you guys! Enough! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

The two finally stopped.

No ghost. No mysterious power. These two lunatics had simply been walking beside him the entire time, whispering religious nonsense into his ears while he was trying to decide what to eat.

The male missionary blinked. “Sir, Simon loves you. If you would just give us a chance—”

Dinello punched him in the face.

The man shot backward several meters, slammed onto the pavement, and lay unconscious beside a trash can.

The woman stared at him.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

“Then stop following me.”

“I understand.” She quickly pulled a colorful flyer from her bag. “But before I go, could you at least take this?”

Dinello sighed and accepted it.

Across the top, printed in large golden letters:

HUMBLEISM

Below several smiling faces beneath a golden sky:

FIND INNER PEACE.
FIND SALVATION.
JOIN US FOR ETERNITY.

The flyer promised peace, salvation, eternal life, and freedom from fear. An address and contact information were printed at the bottom.

“Please think about it,” the woman said. “Come join us anytime.”

Dinello lowered the flyer and noticed the small Humbleism logo stitched onto her chest.

“Oh, you guys even got your own logo.”

He poked it with one finger. His finger sank deep into the soft curve beneath it.

He blinked and poked it again.

And again.

“This logo is so cute, and it’s so bouncy.”

“Eh—no, no, no!”

She grabbed his hand and pushed it away, her cheeks bright red. Somehow, she didn’t seem particularly offended by the handsome young man’s advance.

Dinello pulled his hand back as if nothing unusual had happened and looked at her face.

She was actually pretty cute.

He gently lifted her chin with two fingers.

“So if I join you, just give me a kiss.”

She looked at him, then smiled.

“Sure. No problem. Come join us anytime. You can claim your kiss then.”

Dinello raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll think about that, pretty.”

He winked, slipped the flyer into his pocket, and watched her leave.

“Not bad.”

Section 2: Nowhere Is Safe

Dinello continued down the street, once again thinking about dinner.

He had barely made it another block when a missionary stepped into his path.

“Excuse me, sir. Have you ever wondered what happens after you die?”

Dinello walked around him without answering.

Another approached from ahead.

“Join us. Otherwise, your soul may be condemned to hell for all eternity.”

Dinello quickened his pace and slipped past him.

Then he looked farther down the sidewalk.

Missionaries.

Across the street, more missionaries.

They stood outside storefronts and bus stops, handing out Humbleism flyers. One had cornered a pedestrian against a storefront. Another was chasing a man desperately trying to escape.

Even the sky wasn’t safe.

Several missionaries glided through the air between buildings, uniforms fluttering behind them. One landed lightly on a rooftop while another sailed over traffic with a stack of flyers beneath his arm.

Dinello stared.

“Oh, come on. They’re everywhere.”

Three missionaries noticed him.

“Oh! There’s one!”

Dinello turned around.

“Sir! Wait!”

They launched into Gale Step. Their bodies turned half-transparent as they surged forward like human-shaped gusts of wind, their feet barely touching the ground.

Dinello glanced back.

“Shit. Not this again.”

He broke into a run, accelerating from zero to eighty kilometers per hour. Buildings and storefronts blurred past him as the missionaries quickly fell farther behind. Soon, they disappeared completely.

Dinello slowed several blocks away and looked around.

“The ground isn’t safe.”

He spotted a massive tree towering four or five stories above the street. Without hesitation, he jumped onto a low branch, kicked off again, and bounded upward until he reached a thick branch near the top.

The branch stretched toward a nearby apartment balcony, where a young woman was hanging clothes. She froze when she noticed him sitting almost directly across from her.

Dinello whistled.

“Hey, sexy.”

She stared.

“Oh, sorry. I just needed a break from all those missionaries.”

Then he noticed the pink bra in her hands.

“Oh, by the way, I like your pink bra. It would look good on that curvy bod of yours.”

The woman looked at the bra, then at her own chest, then back at Dinello. Her cheeks turned red.

“Ah… I see.”

She quietly returned to her laundry.

Dinello leaned back against the trunk and folded his hands behind his head.

“Ah, finally. Some peace and quiet. Not to mention, there’s a cute girl right over there.”

He smiled to himself.

“Not a bad place to take a break.”

A face suddenly emerged from behind the trunk, almost touching his.

“Hey, sir. If you join us, we can take you to heaven with all the sexy girls you could ever imagine.”

Dinello’s fist shot backward.

BAM!

The missionary blasted out of the tree, tore through the branches, plunged four stories, and slammed into the pavement.

He died on impact.

Dinello placed a hand over his chest and gave it a few quick pats.

“Oh, shit. That guy came out of nowhere.”

He let out a breath.

“Almost scared the crap out of me.”

Section 3: Salvation by Force

Still perched high in the tree, Dinello watched the commotion unfolding across the streets below.

Two Humbleism missionaries were chasing a college girl.

“Please stop! We only want to talk to you!”

“Leave me alone!”

The girl sprinted toward the intersection, desperately trying to get away. Without looking, she dashed straight into the street.

BAM!

A delivery truck ran directly over her. A moment later, little more than a pile of meat remained in the road.

Dinello’s eyes shifted elsewhere.

Farther down the block, two missionaries pinned a man face-down while one handcuffed him.

“Stop resisting!”

“I’m not joining your fucking cult!”

“Resistance is futile!”

Three more crouched in front of him and preached nonstop, pouring their words into his ears while he struggled against the men holding him down.

At first, the man fought violently. But after several minutes, his resistance began to weaken. His movements slowed, his expression went blank, and the color seemed to drain from his pupils until his eyes looked strangely vacant.

Then he stopped resisting.

“Oh, yeah… I’ve got to join Humbleism. This is my salvation.”

The missionaries released him, and he calmly stood up as though nothing unusual had happened.

Dinello looked farther down the street.

Another missionary had grabbed a passing man by the arm and refused to let him leave.

“Let go of me!”

“Just listen.”

“I said let go!”

The man pulled harder, but the missionary tightened his grip. Suddenly, the missionary’s lips glowed with brilliant golden light.

GOLDEN LIPS

“Join us.”

The man froze. His anger vanished, his shoulders relaxed, and his arm went limp. A strangely peaceful expression settled over him.

Then he dropped to his knees.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll join. Right here, right now.”

Dinello stared down through the leaves.

“Oh, geez.”

Across the neighborhood, violence, chases, beatings, insults, and even rapes filled the sidewalks and intersections while voices preaching salvation echoed from every direction.

“Unbelievable.”

Dinello shook his head.

“Who would’ve thought this whole place would turn into such a mess?”

Section 4: Second Sis

Dinello remained in the tree until the shouting faded and the missionaries gradually disappeared. He waited a little longer just to make sure.

“Looks like they’re finally gone.”

He jumped down several stories, landed lightly on the sidewalk, and continued on his way, once again thinking about dinner.

Soon, he noticed a tall woman approaching from the opposite direction. She stood around 185 centimeters, with medium-short hair and an angular, almost beast-like face. Her chin was sharp, her nose prominent, and her Zhongshan suit hung open, revealing a pink bra underneath.

A male Humbleism missionary walked backward directly in front of her.

“Please reconsider. If you join us, you can gain power, salvation, eternal life—”

She stepped around him without looking.

He hurried ahead and blocked her again.

“Pastor Simon can guide you toward a greater existence. All you need to do is—”

The woman swung her hand.

Five razor-sharp claws, each nearly fifteen centimeters long, ripped toward his chest. The missionary threw himself into a full backflip, narrowly avoiding them, and landed several meters away.

The instant his feet touched the pavement, the woman kicked off the ground.

Her body shot forward. In a blur, she slid past him and appeared directly behind his back. Before he could turn around, her arm punched straight through him.

Five claws burst from his chest.

Her entire hand followed.

And in her palm was his heart.

The missionary slowly looked down at the blood-covered claws, then at his own heart clenched in her hand. Blood ran from the corner of his lips.

“It’s… fine. I shall live for eternity.”

The woman leaned toward his ear.

“Now you die.”

She ripped her arm out, and he collapsed dead.

Dinello had watched the whole thing from several meters away. He sighed.

“Hey, Second Sis.”

The woman turned.

It was Lindsay.

Dinello approached with his hands in his pockets.

“You really haven’t changed. Still as brutal as ever.”

Then his eyes drifted past her shoulder.

For nearly a hundred meters behind Lindsay, the street was littered with the remains of Humbleism missionaries. Bodies covered the sidewalks and roadway. Some had been slashed open, others torn apart, while several had been ripped into pieces along the path she had taken through the neighborhood.

Dinello stared down the street for a moment, then looked back at his sister.

“Second Sis, if you keep this up, you’re going to make a serious dent in the world’s population.”

Lindsay showed no concern. She looked him up and down with contempt.

“And you’re still the same disgrace you’ve always been. With the blood running through our veins, we were born to be perfect warriors—ruthless, powerful, and superior to ordinary people. Yet all you ever do is goof around, chase women, and waste what you were born with. You have no pride whatsoever.”

Dinello shrugged.

“You should be more like me,” Lindsay continued. “Or at least more like Big Sis used to be.”

Then she noticed his hands.

“But what happened to your nails?”

Dinello raised one hand and looked at his fingernails.

“Oh, these? I trim them every day.”

“You trim them?”

“Of course. Long nails look terrible on a man.” He inspected his fingers. “How am I supposed to pick up girls looking like that?”

Lindsay’s eye twitched.

Dinello smiled.

“Gotta stay handsome, Second Sis.”

Section 5: Big Sis

Dinello and Lindsay continued down the street together, planning to find somewhere for dinner. A few blocks later, they passed a familiar building.

The Forbidden Garden.

Lindsay stopped.

Dinello immediately knew what she was thinking.

“Um… maybe I’ll just go ahead and eat dinner on my own.”

“You have to come too.”

Dinello sighed.

“Oh, no. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Lindsay grabbed him and dragged him inside.

They found Linda sitting comfortably in the main room, applying nail polish.

“Hey, little sister. Little brother.” Linda glanced up. “What’s up?”

Lindsay stared at her freshly painted nails.

“What happened to you? You were the Ace of the Frugal Organization. The name Linda alone was enough to make anyone who heard it tremble. You were ruthless. Powerful. A true warrior. And now look at you.”

Linda calmly blew on her nails.

“I’ve still been battling.”

Lindsay narrowed her eyes.

“Mostly in bed, though. Different kind of battle.”

That was all it took. The sisters immediately began arguing like they always did.

Dinello watched for a few seconds.

“I gotta get out of here before it’s too late.”

He looked toward the employees.

They were already evacuating.

Dinello waved. Several waved back as they hurried out. Once the last employee was gone, Dinello slipped out as well.

He had barely made it down the street when—

BOOM!

Several front windows exploded outward. Pieces of the front door blasted across the sidewalk, and the lights flickered before most of the building went dark. Heavy impacts continued booming inside.

Dinello watched for a moment, then kept walking.

Ahead, three familiar young men in Zhongshan suits approached. All three were in their twenties.

One raised a hand.

“Hey, Canelo! What’s up, du—”

BAM!

Dinello’s flying kick smashed into his face, knocking him unconscious.

Dinello landed and glared down at him.

“How many times do I have to tell you? My name is not Canelo!”

One of the remaining students looked toward the damaged Forbidden Garden.

“Okay, wait. Did you just come out of the Forbidden Garden? Did you have sex with the greatest prostitute in Flushing City, Linda?”

Dinello’s eyes narrowed.

Five sharp claws suddenly extended two or three centimeters from his fingertips.

SLASH!

He raked them across the student’s face. The student spun sideways and collapsed unconscious.

“Fuck you! She’s my big sister!”

Dinello’s claws quietly retracted.

The last student—the lipless student—stared at his hand, then at his face.

“Wait, what the hell? How did your nails suddenly get that long and sharp?”

Then his eyes widened.

“And Linda is your big sister? Holy shit. Now THAT I didn’t know.”

Dinello ignored both questions and kept walking. The lipless student glanced at the two unconscious students, then hurried after him.

Section 6: The Lipless Reunion

Dinello and the lipless student had walked less than ten meters when they noticed someone approaching from the opposite direction.

It was another lipless man. Beside him walked a woman with a large pregnant belly—his wife. The man gently supported her with one hand as they made their way down the sidewalk.

The moment the two lipless men saw each other, they both stopped.

For several seconds, neither of them moved. The lipless husband stared at the lipless student, his eyes slowly widening. Then his expression suddenly became incredibly dramatic. He reached one hand forward as though he had just recognized someone he had been searching for his entire life.

“Oh… you must be…”

The lipless student’s eyes widened just as dramatically. He stepped forward and spread both arms.

“Oh… and you must be…”

Dinello looked from one man to the other. The pregnant wife did the same. The two lipless men continued staring deeply into each other’s eyes like long-separated family members finally reunited by fate.

The wife blinked.

“Oh my God. Are you guys long-lost blood brothers?”

Both men immediately turned toward her.

“No,” the husband said. “I don’t even know this guy.”

“Yeah,” the lipless student added. “Never seen him before in my life.”

Dinello and the wife stared at them.

The husband pointed to his own mouth. “I’ve never had lips. I was born this way.” Then he gestured toward the lipless student. “But this guy is different. Looks like he only lost his recently.”

“Yeah.” The lipless student pointed straight at Dinello. “This guy did it. He kicked off one of my lips and ripped the other one off a few days ago.”

Dinello frowned.

“Then why the hell were you guys acting so dramatically a minute ago?”

The lipless husband looked at him as though the answer were obvious.

“Oh. I was going to say…”

He turned toward the lipless student.

“You must be a lipless guy.”

The lipless student nodded.

“Yeah. Me too.”