Aoyagi Ren
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse—scraped raw by years of battle rather than age. It carried no anger, no urgency, only a calm that had nothing left to prove.
""You're still counting heads," he said, voice light with amusement. That smile never reached his eyes.
He shook his head, almost disappointed.
"Still thinking numbers will save you."
The air shifted instantaneously.
A dense wave of killing intent spread outward, heavy and feral, pressing low against the ground. The mountain pass seemed to constrict beneath it, wind stalling, Qi turning sluggish as if weighed down by something it didn't want to touch.
Several Silent Fang members stiffened, expressions tightening despite themselves. Even without firsthand experience, the Iron Butcher Union's reputation was well known throughout the region—brutal methods, demonic techniques, and a complete disregard for survival beyond the mission.
