Striker Helluva Boss Novels & Stories

Now all I have to do was hide so no-one from back home finds me. But did I say that I left the hell behind? Because no, the new job I got comes with a Boss that’s the devil incarnate and he sure knew how to make my life hell. The problem with him was he doesn’t make me want to runaway and I don’t want to kill him as much as I want to look into those grey eyes and find all his secrets. To tell him how much of an arsehole he is and then… maybe… kiss him a little, forgetting the fact that he was as dangerous and as wild as wild panther. And I couldn’t help but be attracted to his untouchable beauty, knowing I’d be the one hurt and killed. _

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Arthur just got up from the ground. The Southern Boss's ceaseless attacks left him with no time to rest or energy to dodge. In the end, he hurriedly launched the Stormy Punch to counter the Southern Boss's attack. Baam! Following a deafening sound, their attacks clashed. Since they were on the same level, their attacks were of equal strength. However, this gave the Western Boss a chance. "Arthur, take this! Phantom Strike!" The Western Boss reached both his hands out and gathered his energy, before sending it toward Arthur.

“Oh? Then how did you pass that level?” “I found out later that this game actually had a special item, lightning gloves. After I put it on, I could release lightning every five seconds, staggering all objects within a range of ten meters for 1 second! I used the lightning gloves to stagger the boss and then shoot it with a gun. After repeating the process hundreds of times, I finally knocked out the health points of the boss.” It was true that the boss changed position all the time, but as long as he had the lightning gloves, he could stagger it in place for one second. As long as he was fast enough, this one second was enough to shoot the boss.

The room fell silent except for the heavy breathing and the groans of the subdued attackers. Kira stood over the conscious gunman, the leader's body wasn't in good shape because she had used him to serve as her shield, placing her foot on his chest. "Who sent you?" she demanded. He coughed, blood trickling from his mouth. "You'll find out soon enough," he spat, defiance still in his eyes. She pressed harder, her expression a mask of fury. "Tell me!" He grinned, his teeth stained red. "Go to hell." Kira's face hardened, “I Am Hell.” and with that she lifted her foot, bringing it down with a final, brutal stomp on his face, knocking the man unconscious immediately. That was one powerful kick.

"You lost her location but you know where she is or you lost both?" "Boss, let me explain. We…” "Quiet!" The man roared and all the men flinched, bowing their heads to the man speaking over the phone. "I don't care what you do, or how you do it. But I want you to find that girl for me, alive or dead!” he ordered and hung up. The man in casual clothes, known as Striker, felt a heavy weight descend upon him as the call ended. He clenched his teeth and fists, feeling the weight of the mistake he made.

But she was startled when her boss suddenly turned to face her. “Ah, Celeste, can you—” Alexis started to say, but Lenie interrupted him by yelling. “You?! You’re my boss?!” Lenie exclaimed, feeling a mix of annoyance and shock. The man she had argued with on the street and the one who had interviewed her turned out to be the same person. She suddenly wanted to back out, frustrated by this revelation. She closed her eyes in irritation. “What a small world, Miss. You’re the woman who got her clothes muddy, right? I didn’t notice it was you during the interview. Imagine that—I’m your boss. I guess you won’t be sassy with me anymore?” Alexis said smugly.

She couldn't believe that of all places for Chad to pull off his caveman stunt, it would be in the club with her friends. Chad moved swiftly to Olivia and flung the man off her lap, his face twisted in indignation. "Take your cheap wares somewhere else!" he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. The stripper stumbled backward, raising his hands up in mock surrender. "Jeez, calm down, I was just trying to show her a good time," the man mumbled, backing away from Chad's wrath. Chad hissed at him, his eyes blazing with anger. "She doesn't need you to have a good time!" he spat, glaring at the stripper and everyone in sight.

Select something. The not knowing made everything sharper. Every nerve in her body was screaming. He returned. Stood behind her. "This is for beginners." He showed her what he held—a small paddle, black leather, no larger than his hand. "Light impact. More sound than sting." She stared at it. Her heart hammered. "I'm going to give you one strike," he said. "One. So you know what you're agreeing to." "Okay." "Count it. Thank me." "Yes, Sir."

Before he could even gasp for breath, Jovan delivered a clinical right hook to his jaw. Crack. Archer went airborne for a fraction of a second before hitting the floor with a sickening smack. He lay there, groaning, his fingers twitching against the cold stone. "Enough! Security, take him out!" Damian Vale’s baritone sliced through the chaos. The HR Manager was already sprinting across the lobby with three more guards in tow. They didn't be gentle. They hauled Archer up, pinning his arms behind his back, and dragged him toward the glass doors like a piece of discarded trash.