The title that reached MOHITO was simple and mysterious: "The Abandoned Factory."
A place that once hosted all his early missions, where memories cling to decaying walls.
The place was quiet, nothing like the chaos he once knew.
The cold air carried the scent of rust and faded memories.
MOHITO stood before the abandoned building, his eyes scanning the worn-out details: the corroded iron gates, shattered windows, and cracked walls bearing the scars of time and traces of old battles.
"Come on… let's get more," whispered the voice in MOHITO's head insistently.
He stepped forward cautiously, pushing the iron door, which let out a loud creak, sending a flock of birds flying out—birds that had taken refuge inside the factory.
Suddenly, a voice rose from within the darkness:
"I knew you would come."
The DEMON MONKEY sat on one of the chairs, leaning on his sword, his glowing red eyes piercing through the darkness.
Whenever MOHITO looked into those eyes, he saw a distorted reflection of himself.
MOHITO pulled MORASAMI from behind his back, pointing it toward his opponent.
The DEMON MONKEY spoke without looking at him:
"You truly have changed. The person I knew would have attacked me without hesitation."
Then he slowly turned his gaze toward him:
"You're just a pale imitation of the real DEMON WOLF."
MOHITO answered angrily:
"I'm tired of your games… who are you?"
"It seems you truly lost all your memories… and with them, your identity."
He stood up, staring directly at MOHITO.
MOHITO took a combat stance, every muscle in his body tense.
"Who am I…" the DEMON MONKEY muttered as if asking himself, without breaking eye contact.
Suddenly, he vanished from in front of MOHITO and reappeared behind him in the blink of an eye.
"Why don't you ask MORASAMI?" he whispered behind his ear.
MOHITO swung his sword in a rapid slash, MORASAMI's black gleam flashing in the darkness—
But the DEMON MONKEY dodged the attack with astonishing agility, leaping into the air.
MOHITO followed, creating a whirlwind from the force of his speed.
The DEMON MONKEY blocked it, gripping his sword tightly.
Their swords clashed with a bright spark, lighting their faces for a heartbeat.
Suddenly, a blurry image flashed in MOHITO's mind:
A person standing before him, face unclear… stabbing him in the heart with MORASAMI.
His focus faltered. He stumbled back.
"What was that?" he whispered, holding his throbbing head.
MOHITO looked at the DEMON MONKEY standing calmly, his red eyes gleaming with twisted delight.
"Memories… they're starting to return, aren't they?" the DEMON MONKEY said arrogantly.
MOHITO charged like a storm, MORASAMI gleaming like a hungry black serpent.
But the DEMON MONKEY was faster, dodging every strike with nerve-chilling ease.
"Is that all?" he mocked. "You've gotten slow… BROTHER."
Brother—the word sent a tremor through MOHITO.
But MORASAMI hissed:
"Don't listen to him! Give me your rage!"
MOHITO attacked again, unleashing a furious chain of strikes:
A downward diagonal slash—the DEMON MONKEY tried to block it but was pushed back
• A fast spin followed by a horizontal strike nearly cutting his neck
• A side kick hits his rib, rattling his armour
"Well done!" the DEMON MONKEY shouted as he regained balance.
"But not enough!"
He retaliated fiercely:
Three lightning-fast strikes forced MOHITO to retreat
• A backward leap followed by a dive from above—MORASAMI barely blocked it
• A swift feint—his sword nearly pierced MOHITO's shoulder
"Blood! I want more blood!" MORASAMI screamed in MOHITO's mind.
MOHITO charged again, but his attacks became wild, fueled by anger and confusion.
The DEMON MONKEY blocked every strike with ease, each defence triggering deeper buried memories inside MOHITO.
Voices grew louder in his head—
Screams, groans, bodies being torn apart… breathless dying whispers…
A forest soaked in blood… faces twisted in pain and betrayal.
MORASAMI's voice rose:
"Give me more! More rage! More pain!"
The black sword trembled in MOHITO's grip like a living creature feeding on negative emotions.
The more memories surged, the more feral MOHITO became—
His speed unnatural, strength doubled, as if his suffering had reshaped him…
Or perhaps MORASAMI was the one in control.
"You hear them now, don't you?" whispered the DEMON MONKEY as he dodged easily.
"SHUT UP!" MOHITO roared, slashing MORASAMI toward the demon's neck.
The DEMON MONKEY blocked it.
"Do you remember?" he taunted. "That night in the lab? When did we choose our names?"
A blurry image:
Two boys in a dark cell, whispering to each other.
MOHITO lost balance from the pain stabbing his head, closing one eye.
"No!" he shouted, trying to push the memory away.
He used the wall to launch a surprise-angle attack
But the DEMON MONKEY still dodged.
"MORASAMI controls you, doesn't he?!"
He stopped and looked at the oncoming MOHITO.
In that decisive moment—
Just as MOHITO was about to land a direct hit, the vision sharpened:
A boy covered in blood…
Standing in a forest filled with corpses…
Staring at MOHITO with a shattered expression, whispering:
"Weren't we… family?"
MOHITO froze.
An invisible force pulled his arm back.
His sword dropped loosely from his grip.
Cold sweat trickled down his face like winter dew on broken glass.
Victory was inches away—
But the ghost of memory ripped his will apart.
His eyes widened.
"That day in the forest… BALI…"
The DEMON MONKEY stepped back, a satisfied smile on his face.
"That's enough for today."
Then he vanished into the darkness, leaving MOHITO alone in the abandoned factory with memories exploding like a ticking bomb.
MOHITO collapsed to his knees in the middle of the factory.
His body trembled like a leaf in the wind.
MORASAMI fell from his shaking hand, clattering onto the dirty floor.
He lowered his head to the ground as the headache intensified.
Memories flooded him like a raging river:
He saw himself again in that dark forest—
Rain poured down his hair, his sword stained with blood.
And BALI…
That innocent face he had known since childhood, looking at him with shock and pain.
"Why… MOHITO?" BALI whispered weakly, blood spilling from his mouth.
"You were my brother…"
BALI fell, crawling toward the corpse of a dead girl, desperately reaching for her cold hand.
MOHITO watched with cold eyes… then turned and walked away, leaving him to die alone.
"Weren't we… family?"
BALI's last words choked with blood and tears.
MOHITO paused briefly—
Then continued walking, leaving BALI clutching the girl's hand in heartbreaking silence.
The factory fell into deep stillness.
MOHITO lifted his head, eyes wide.
"I remember now…"
"I had no choice!" he shouted, staring at his trembling hands—hands stained with blood that years couldn't wash away.
The smell of old blood invaded his senses—
The weight of the sword as it pierced his friend…
The final breath leaves his chest.
"I… I didn't want to…" he tried to justify himself, but the words were empty.
"You… enjoyed it," whispered a voice in his mind.
"At that moment, you felt power… control."
MOHITO lifted his head slowly, his swollen eyes staring into the darkness.
MORASAMI lay on the ground, faintly glowing as if waiting for him.
This was his deepest secret—
The shame he hid even from himself.
It wasn't just orders…
He had surrendered to the darkness.
Perhaps MORASAMI was the real demon—
But MOHITO was the one who gave him life.
They were two sides of the same coin.
"Enough," he whispered, voice broken.
The voice in his mind let out a demonic chuckle:
"You know it's true… You pretend you want to protect others… but you see them as burdens."
MOHITO pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block the relentless whispers—
But they came from within.
"You can't escape the truth…" the voice hissed.
"The forest scene will repeat… and you know who the next victims will be."
Demonic laughter echoed in his mind.
Then silence.
A cold whisper behind his ear:
"This is your truth… BROTHER."
In that moment, MOHITO realised—
The real demon wasn't in the sword or the DEMON MONKEY…
It had lived inside him all along.
And now he had to choose:
Surrender to the darkness…
Or face it in the hardest battle of his life.
************************
In an abandoned apartment on the third floor of a collapsing building, the DEMON MONKEY stood alone.
Dust rose with every step on the rotten wooden floor.
He moved toward a cracked mirror covered in thick dust.
His hand trembled as he reached toward his face.
With trembling fingers, he scraped the dust from the mirror, slowly revealing his distorted reflection.
The glowing red eyes pierced the dark—
But today, there was something else… something resembling pain.
With a slow, painful motion, he opened his black coat.
The fabric tore slightly, as if stuck to his skin.
Underneath it, a deep wound stretched from his collarbone down to his ribs—
Still unhealed after all these years.
Its blackened edges marked clearly that the weapon that made it was cursed.
"MORASAMI…" he whispered, touching the wound's edge.
He closed his eyes as a distant memory struck him:
A warm hand holding his, a sad smile.
Echoes of childish laughter.
"We'll never leave each other, right?"
But the memory twisted into a nightmare:
That same hand turning cold…
Eyes filled with shock, pain, betrayal.
He snapped his eyes open—
The gentle expression disappeared, replaced with a cold, deadly stare.
He pressed his wound hard until fresh blood trickled out—
Punishing himself for this moment of weakness.
He looked at the mirror again—
But this time, he saw only the monster he had become.
No trace of the boy he once was.
A twisted smile spread on his face as blood dripped onto the wooden floor—
Leaving behind a trail of pain that never healed…
And the revenge was far from over.
Suddenly, a rough voice cut the silence:
"Finally… you're back."
A man wearing a WILD DOG mask stepped forward, eyes gleaming in the dark.
Behind him, another figure appeared—a black TIGER mask, elegant and deadly in movement.
"You came," the DEMON MONKEY said calmly, not turning from the mirror.
"No time for games," the black TIGER said firmly, stepping forward.
"The COMMANDER wants the mission done now. The PRINCESS must die before the conference."
The DEMON MONKEY touched his wound, then buttoned his coat slowly.
"The PRINCESS… just another puppet in a larger theatre."
The WILD DOG snarled:
"Forget the puppets! Follow the orders!"
The DEMON MONKEY finally turned from the mirror, facing the two.
"And what's stopping me from killing you both right now?"
A sharp tension filled the room.
The black TIGER placed a hand on his weapon.
The WILD DOG took a combat stance.
"Because you know the consequences," the black TIGER whispered.
"No one escapes the ORGANIZATION."
A deadly silence stretched—
Then the DEMON MONKEY chuckled coldly.
"Fine… let's play their little game."
He walked toward the window, his coat flowing behind him like shadowed wings.
"Tell the COMMANDER… the DEMON MONKEY will meet the princess soon."
Before disappearing into the darkness, he cast one last glance at the wound on his chest.
"This time… I'll wait for him to strike first."
He vanished, leaving the WILD DOG and black TIGER in the abandoned room—
The shattered mirror reflected their uneasy faces.