Rain slicked the streets as Akira sprinted through the glowing city, boots slapping against wet concrete. Neon signs smeared into streaks of color as he ran, the cold night air burning his lungs.
Ahead, the two masked robbers cut through the crowd with practiced ease—black uniforms slipping between bodies like shadows with purpose.
"The blast didn't do as much damage as I thought," Akira muttered between breaths. "That railgun's only dangerous when it's charged with Tao… and that girl doesn't look like she can use it."
A crooked smile tugged at his lips. "So she's not the threat."
He vaulted a barrier, rolled across the slick hood of a parked car, and surged forward again. The robbers burst through a market street, sending vendors scrambling as stalls overturned. Somewhere behind him, alarms wailed and blue lights painted the alleys in flashes of panic.
They veered toward the industrial edge of the city—a graveyard of half-collapsed warehouses, rusted cranes looming like skeletal giants. Akira slowed, dropping into a crouch as the rhythmic hum of his Tao pulsed through his veins, golden light flickering faintly beneath his skin.
Voices echoed inside the warehouse.
Akira crept closer.
Kenji Sato stood beside a stack of crates, sleeves rolled to his elbows, an envelope thick with cash dangling from his fingers. Even in the dim light, his presence was unmistakable—calm, commanding, dangerous.
"Good work," Kenji said, tossing the envelope toward the demon-masked boy. "You secured the railgun."
The boy caught it and quickly thumbed through the bills. "You want the weapon?" he asked, lifting the black case.
Kenji shook his head. "No. I only needed the chaos. The goal was to make Scissors look incompetent." His gaze sharpened. "What happened to the old man?"
The demon-masked girl stepped forward and removed her mask. She couldn't have been older than sixteen—short-cropped hair, sharp gray eyes, exhaustion barely hiding defiance.
"He got knocked out by a Hunter," she said. "We handled it."
Kenji exhaled slowly. "So the fourteenth user of the Perfect Crime bloodline was caught…" Disappointment crept into his voice. "What a waste."
The boy hesitated. "Sir… why do you even care? Scissors are already terrorists. Making them look worse won't change anything."
Kenji's eyes hardened. "You're too young to concern yourself with that."
He crouched and traced a perfect circle into the dusty floor with his pen. Blue Tao shimmered along the symbol, veins of light pulsing like a heartbeat.
Kenji stepped into the sigil.
The light flared—then vanished, burning out like a dying star.
Akira stared from the rafters, breath caught in his throat.
Kenji Sato…? The Grand General of the Sao Kingdom?
"What the hell are you doing…" Akira whispered.
He dropped from the beams, landing hard as golden Tao flared beneath his boots. He raised his Hunter ID.
"Akira Yamato. Hunter," he called out. "All of you—surrender."
The girl groaned. "Oh, great. Another hero."
The demon-masked boy chuckled, brushing dust from his coat. "I thought that railgun would hit harder."
"I'm just too strong to lose to something that weak," Akira replied, grinning.
The boy shrugged. "It's because she can't channel Tao. She couldn't power the shot."
One of the unmasked men—a nervous worker still in a delivery uniform—threw his hands up. "Hey, calm down! We're just trying to make some money!"
Akira frowned. "Nah. You hurt innocent people. I'm not cool with that."
The masked boy sighed and unclipped his demon mask, letting it clatter to the floor. He was young—maybe nineteen—with calm brown eyes and a tired kindness that didn't belong here.
"Wait," he said. "I'm a Taoist too. Maybe we can talk."
"Talk?" Akira tilted his head.
"My name's Jiso," he said quietly. "You're new. I'll forgive you this time—just let us go."
Akira's brow furrowed. "What?"
Jiso shook his head. "We need the money. That's all."
Akira's smile returned, sharper now. "Then you fight for it. That's how the world works." His voice hardened. "I've been told my whole life to stay quiet, stay normal, stay small. That's not my dream."
Jiso clicked his tongue. "Yeah, yeah. I'm not in the mood to test strength."
For a brief moment, the tension thinned.
Then sirens screamed.
The warehouse doors blew open as floodlights poured in. "Yoru Police! Hands up!"
Everyone froze—everyone except Jiso and his sister.
Jiso's eyes flicked to one kneeling man. "Ma… I knew I couldn't trust you."
The man turned away, shame written across his face.
The girl snapped her mask back on and bolted.
Akira moved to chase—but Jiso struck first, his fist smashing into Akira's jaw. Akira hit the ground, rolled, and came back up fast, sweeping Jiso's legs and tackling him.
Tao clashed. Sparks leapt with every blow.
Gunfire erupted. Bullets ricocheted off metal as officers scrambled for cover. Somewhere, the railgun screamed to life.
A terrified man grabbed it and fired wildly.
The violet blast tore through a patrol car outside, lighting the night sky.
"Damn it—she's running," Akira hissed, breaking away.
Rain hammered down as he burst outside.
Jiso reappeared, blocking his path, mask cracked and glowing beneath the fractures. "I'm ready to fight now."
He lunged—headbutting Akira hard.
Akira staggered, then kicked forward, sending Jiso crashing into a truck.
"You'll need more than that," Akira said, wiping blood from his nose.
Jiso roared. "You're only making things worse!"
Then Akira felt it.
A pressure—like the world inhaling.
A massive Tao presence surged nearby, cold and overwhelming.
Ito.
The rain stopped.
Silence fell.
At the far end of the alley, a black car waited. The door opened.
Ito Yoru stepped out.
"Stand down," he said calmly.
The police obeyed without question.
Jiso collapsed to his knees. "A man with a god's power and a human heart shouldn't exist," he whispered. "I stayed pretending we could live normally…"
He looked up. "Please. Let her go."
The car rolled away.
"Goodbye, Sis."
Jiso fell forward, unconscious.
Ito gestured. "Take him. Carefully."
As officers moved, Ito turned to Akira. "You did well. Even if you don't listen."
He tossed Akira a keycard. "Rest. Tomorrow gets worse."
Akira watched the car disappear into the mist.
For a moment—just a moment—he thought he saw a faint smile through the window.