Silence settled over the battlefield, broken only by the low crackle of burning wood and the distant groans of the dying. Smoke hung thick in the air, drifting lazily beneath the dim glow of the fading flames. At the center of the carnage lay Abe Nobuyuki—The Giant Cleaver—his massive frame sprawled lifeless upon the scorched earth. Standing above him were Sentarō, Reiko, Tadatoshi, and Ichio, their bodies battered, bloodied, and trembling with exhaustion. They had defeated the monster, yet victory had come at a terrible cost.
Ichio stared at Abe's corpse, his mouth slightly open, disbelief etched across his face. "We… we actually defeated that thing?" he muttered. Neither Sentarō nor Reiko answered. They stood in silence, eyes fixed on the fallen criminal, as though expecting him to rise again. A sharp pain suddenly tore through Sentarō's chest. He clenched his side and dropped to one knee, his breath hitching.
"Sentarō!" Reiko rushed to him, gripping his shoulders to steady him. Her voice trembled as she searched his face. "Are you alright?"
"That bastard's hits…" Sentarō hissed through clenched teeth. "They're no joke. I think I cracked a rib. Maybe two." He forced out a weak chuckle, though sweat streamed down his brow.
Nearby, Tadatoshi stood swaying on his feet, his body covered in bruises and cuts, blood matting his hair and soaking into his sleeves. His breathing was ragged, every inhale a battle. "Damn it…" he muttered, frustration burning behind his eyes. "I couldn't… defeat him… on my own." Slowly, he turned toward Sentarō, a crooked grin spreading across his battered face despite the pain.
Their brief moment of respite shattered when the surrounding criminals froze mid-battle. One by one, they turned, eyes widening as they took in the sight of their fallen leader.
"Boss…?" one of them whispered, his voice shaking.
"How… how is that even possible?" another croaked.
Shock rippled through the ranks, quickly curdling into rage. Fear and fury twisted their expressions as they fixed their gaze on Sentarō, Reiko, Tadatoshi, and Ichio.
"Oh no…" Ichio swallowed hard, backing away slightly. "They're giving us a death glare."
"You'll pay for killing the boss," one criminal growled. In unison, they yanked open their shirts, revealing bodies carved with scars and bruises from countless battles. Prominently displayed on each of their necks was the same mark—a black circular tattoo, bold and unmistakable.
Steel rang sharply through the forest.
CLANG!
Ryōtarō and the unknown samurai remained locked in battle, their blades flashing as sparks scattered across the trampled ground. Sweat streamed down Ryōtarō's face as he grit his teeth, barely parrying another heavy strike.
"Damn it…" he thought, leaping back to create distance. "He's stronger than I expected."
"Mr. Ryunosuke!" a voice cried out.
Both warriors paused, turning toward the sound. From between the trees emerged a criminal with a neatly tied topknot and a massive circular tattoo inked into the back of his neck. His face was pale, eyes wide with panic as he sprinted toward them.
"Mr. Ryunosuke!" the man gasped. "I have terrible news!"
Ryunosuke's eyes narrowed. "Speak."
"It's the boss… Abe is dead!"
For the first time, Ryunosuke froze. His grip tightened around his sword as disbelief crossed his face. "What?" he asked slowly. "Abe is dead? How?"
"He… he was killed," the criminal stammered. "By candidates from the exam."
"Candidates?" Ryunosuke's expression darkened, anger seeping into his voice. "Tch. It doesn't matter. The plan doesn't change. Everyone else escapes—now!"
"I'm sorry, sir," the criminal replied, lifting his head. His voice no longer shook. "But no."
Ryunosuke turned sharply. "What did you say?"
"WE, THE BLACK CIRCLE, WILL AVENGE OUR FALLEN LEADER!" the man shouted. Tears streamed down his face as he ripped off his shirt, exposing the tattoo on his neck. "YEEAAAH!"
The surrounding criminals roared in response, ripping open their own garments, their voices echoing through the forest. "We'll kill the boss's killers and escape—just like he wanted!"
Ryunosuke's gaze turned cold, murderous intent rolling off him in waves. "You fools," he snarled. "Escape now… or I'll kill you all myself."
"You're not going anywhere!" Ryōtarō roared, charging forward with his blade raised. "I'm done toying with you!"
Ryunosuke exhaled slowly. "So am I."
In an instant, he vanished.
Ryōtarō barely had time to react before pain exploded across his chest. Blood sprayed into the air as he collapsed to the ground, crimson soaking into the grass. He never saw the strike.
Ryunosuke turned away. "Now to—"
A sharp warning screamed through his instincts. He looked up.
A shadow passed overhead.
"What's that?" Tadatoshi asked, lifting his head.
Sentarō, Reiko, and Ichio followed his gaze. The sky was blackened by movement.
"Oh no—those are arrows!" Ichio screamed.
A barrage descended upon the forest like a storm. Screams filled the air as arrows tore through flesh indiscriminately, cutting down criminals and samurai alike. Bodies fell in droves, the ground turning slick with blood.
"Watch out!" Sentarō shouted, grabbing Ichio and sprinting forward. Reiko dragged Tadatoshi along as they dove behind a massive standing rock. Arrows slammed into the stone with dull thuds as the massacre continued.
Moments stretched into eternity before the rain finally ceased.
"Alright, men!" a commanding voice boomed. "Leave no criminal alive!"
"YEEAAAH!"
From the treeline emerged a full squadron of mounted samurai—nearly one hundred and fifty strong. They surged forward like a tidal wave, overwhelming the remaining criminals with ruthless efficiency. One by one, the Black Circle fell.
Sentarō and the others emerged from cover, staring in stunned silence at the carnage unfolding before them.
"…Is this really the work of a samurai?" Reiko whispered, her face twisting in disgust.
"So you're the ones who killed Abe."
The voice came from directly in front of them.
They froze.
Ryunosuke stood there calmly, sword resting at his side. None of them had sensed his approach.
"How…?" Tadatoshi thought, sweat trickling down his spine.
Ryunosuke raised his blade.
An arrow flew.
He deflected it effortlessly and leapt back, clicking his tongue. "Tch. He's not going to be happy about this."
Ichio caught the words, his eyes narrowing.
In the next instant, Ryunosuke vanished.
The battlefield fell quiet once more. Flames died down. Smoke thinned. The sun slowly rose over the blood-soaked forest.
"Are you four alright?!" a mounted samurai called out.
"Y-yes, sir," Sentarō replied, glancing at Tadatoshi. "But our friend here might not be."
"I don't need your help!" Tadatoshi snapped weakly. "And we're not friends!"
Ichio laughed softly. "After all that, you still have energy… as expected of the Ultimate Rookie."
Tadatoshi grinned despite himself. "Don't call me that, weakling. Refer to me as the Lord of Festivals."
"Lord of Festivals?" Sentarō blinked.
"Yes," Tadatoshi said firmly. "Not the Ultimate Rookie."
The Police Force entrance exams of the Fourth Division ended that night. Out of more than one hundred and twenty candidates, only four passed.
The incident spread across every district like wildfire.
History would remember it as—
The Night of Blood.