"Recently, those gangs have been much more restrained than before. Something major happened; take a look at this," Zhu Yuan said, pointing to an enlarged, grainy photo pinned to the briefing board.
The image was a still from a high-speed surveillance camera. It showed a figure on a motorcycle—a blur of crimson and silver. The person was clad in a full-body tactical suit, their head encased in a helmet made of an unknown, high-gloss material. Two large, compound-like eyes in a deep shade of crimson dominated the face, giving off a lethal, predatory aesthetic.
Kenji stared at the photo. On the outside, he was a mask of professional curiosity. Inside, his head was throbbing.
That was him.
He remembered that night. He had been "young and ignorant"—well, a week into his transmigration—and had decided to see how fast his bike could go while transformed. He'd accidentally tripped a speed trap, and when the local patrol tried to flag him down, he had naturally ignored them. He'd twisted the throttle of the Extender and vanished into the night, leaving the PSB with nothing but this blurry snapshot.
That day, his "daily gacha" had landed on Kamen Rider Kuuga. He had been in Mighty Form, which explained the blood-red color scheme in the photo.
"Haha! Looks like a fanatic fan of Star Crest Knight," Qingyi laughed, leaning in to inspect the "insect" eyes.
Kenji bit his tongue. He wanted to tell her that this wasn't some "fanboy" in a cosplay suit, but a genuine Rider. However, he was quickly learning that in this near-future world, superhero media was just as prevalent as it was on Earth.
Star Crest Knight was this world's equivalent of the Kamen Rider franchise. The premise was nearly identical: a hero using high-tech tools to transform and fight Ethereals. Kenji had been annoyed when he first saw a poster for it; he'd hoped to be a unique legend, only to find out a production company had already beaten him to the aesthetic. He couldn't help but wonder if the show's creator was another transmigrator—it was a lead worth investigating later.
"Fan or not, he's an escaped suspect who did something earth-shattering," Zhu Yuan said, her voice dropping into a grave tone. "Look at the next photo."
The scene changed. The background was a chaotic sprawl of burning warehouses and cracked pavement. People—gang members, by the look of their tattoos—were sprawled across the ground in various states of unconsciousness. The photographer's hand must have been shaking violently; the central figure was a smear of red and gold, but the silhouette of Kuuga was unmistakable.
"Is that all? My grandma could take clearer pictures with a doorknob," Qingyi complained, though her eyes remained sharp.
Zhu Yuan ignored the interruption. "This was taken by a member of the Giant Tooth Gang. This 'Rider' single-handedly dismantled their entire operation in a single night. The Giant Tooth was one of the top syndicates in the Outer Rim, and they were erased overnight. Every member suffered severe blunt-force trauma, but—curiously—no one died. He held back."
Kenji nodded slightly. He was glad they were calling him a "Rider" rather than "unidentified costumed monster," even if it was just because of the TV show.
"The gang deserved it," Qingyi said, her playful demeanor vanishing. "Those bastards were human traffickers. They'd kidnap anyone with high Ether-Aptitude. Some were turned into thugs, but most were pushed into the Hollows to work as 'Tunnel Raiders' until they mutated into Ethereals. Every one of them deserved to die ten thousand times over."
Kenji understood then that New Eridu wasn't just a high-tech marvel; it was a borderland on the edge of a wasteland. In the unregulated districts where the PSB's reach was thin, crime didn't just flourish—it rotted.
The night he had drawn the Kuuga belt, he had witnessed a kidnapping in progress. He had followed the van to the Giant Tooth stronghold and listened to the thugs joke about the "shelf life" of their victims. Something in Kenji's mind had snapped.
He hadn't planned to be a vigilante, but as an ordinary citizen suddenly gifted with the power of a god, he couldn't just watch. Under the power of Kuuga, he had stormed the compound. He hadn't killed them—as a Toku fan, he knew that once a hero crosses that line, there is no coming back—but he had made sure they would never walk unaided again. He had broken arms and shattered kneecaps, ensuring their "careers" were over.
The gratitude in the eyes of the captives he had freed was a memory he would carry forever. But he knew he couldn't make this his routine. Zhu Yuan's attitude made that clear: the PSB saw the Rider as a "Black-on-Black" incident—one criminal element eliminating another. To them, he was just a different kind of threat.
If he kept acting in the shadows, he'd eventually be hunted by both the underworld and the authorities. And more importantly, Kenji didn't want to become a self-appointed judge, jury, and executioner.
"If you take a life, there is no turning back." The words of Shinji Kido—Kamen Rider Ryuki—echoed in his mind. Absolute power required absolute restraint. He couldn't guarantee he'd never make a mistake, and a mistake with a Rider Kick was permanent.
"So," Kenji said, breaking his silence. "If this 'Rider' is so dangerous, what's our move if we run into him?"
Zhu Yuan looked at him, her orange eyes reflecting a complicated mix of duty and something else. "We apprehend him. Vigilantism is still a crime, Kenji. No matter how much 'justice' he thinks he's doing, he's a wild card in an already unstable city."
Kenji gave a small, weary smile. "Understood, Captain. I'll keep an eye out for any red motorcycles."