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[Kagetsu castle, 12:40 AM]
A muffled scream clawed its way through the quiet night as Kazuhiro's long, claw-like fingers twisted into the guard's neck. With a sickening snap, the man's head was torn clean from his shoulders, a spray of blood staining the nearby foliage. The lifeless corpse crumpled to the ground, its final moments swallowed by the shadows of the surrounding trees. Kazuhiro tilted his head as he studied his work, the head dangling limply in his grasp before he discarded it like unwanted debris, letting it roll into the underbrush.
The faceless entity stood in silence, his thoughts cold and calculating. 'Judging by their tense posture. They've noticed something is wrong. Missing guards during the shift rotations perhaps? It's enough to raise suspicions. How odd... why are they not issuing a widespread alarm.'
Without another sound, Kazuhiro melted into the darkness, crouching low and weaving through the dense foliage. The shadows embraced his pitch-black form, making him nearly invisible under the pale light of the moon. 'Do they know that I'm behind it and are just monitoring my abilities? If so hiding may be redundant. It's best to reduce their numbers now and gain power in return. Its would grant me a better advantage against an organized force.'
Kazuhiro stalked the grounds, targeting guards stationed on the perimeter. He chose those isolated from their comrades, dragging them into the shadows one by one. The first guard barely had time to turn before Kazuhiro's claws slashed through his midsection, spilling intestines onto the dirt. Another, patrolling near the wall, found himself lifted by his neck, gasping for breath until Kazuhiro's grip crushed his windpipe.
For the few who managed to spot him, their final moments were painted in horror. They saw only glimpses of his tall, monstrous silhouette before his claws tore through them like wet paper. Heads were ripped from bodies, limbs severed with brutal precision. One guard's scream was silenced as Kazuhiro's hand plunged through his chest, the sound of ribs cracking echoing into the night. Another's eyes were swiftly poked and gouged out, his bloody sockets staring blankly at nothing.
The air around the compound grew thick with fear. The once-alert guards were now paralyzed by paranoia, jumping at every rustle of leaves or creak of wood. Some whispered nervously into their radios, reporting the disappearances and unexplained deaths, but their superiors dismissed their growing terror.
"Stay alert," came the cold reply over their earpieces. "Continue monitoring the area. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary."
The guards' hands trembled on their weapons, their confidence eroding with each passing moment. Kazuhiro watched them from the shadows, his dark form disappeared once more into the night, the silent predator continuing his grim work. Outside the castle walls, a faint breeze carried the metallic scent of blood through the compound.
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[Inside the building,]
[Operation base, comms and surveillance room]
The room buzzed with faint, monotonous beeps and the hum of high-tech equipment, its sterile atmosphere illuminated by the cold glow of screens and blinking LEDs. Rows of monitors covered an entire wall, each displaying live feeds of the castle's exterior and interior, while a holographic map of the compound hovered in the air at the center of the room. Technicians moved with precision, their fingers dancing across keyboards as the soft tapping of keys added to the mechanical symphony.
A woman, dressed in a crisp uniform, stood rigidly before a suited man, her tone sharp and professional. "Sir, it's regarding the guards we hired," she began, her gaze locked on a flickering screen showing fragmented footage of the grounds.
The man turned, his polished shoes clicking against the floor as he approached the glowing monitors. His tailored suit caught the dim light, and his sharp eyes scanned the display with practiced calculation. "And?" His voice carried a calm authority, though there was an edge of irritation.
"Several have abandoned their posts out of fear," the woman continued, her fingers skimming over the console to bring up additional feeds. "Those who stayed behind are being hunted—systematically eliminated."
A tense silence filled the room, punctuated by the occasional static from comms devices. The man sighed, a low, resigned exhale that spoke volumes. "As expected. We only needed them to test the intruder's capabilities." His gaze lingered on one of the monitors, which showed a blood-smeared corridor. "Strength is all we've confirmed so far. Brutal, monstrous strength." He turned slightly, addressing her without looking. "As for those who fled, relay orders to the teams outside. They are to be executed on sight."
"Yes, sir," the woman responded, her tone unflinching as she relayed the grim directive into her headset.
The man straightened his posture, smoothing his tie as his eyes narrowed at another feed showing the dark silhouette of the intruder slipping through the shadows. "Handle the operation," he instructed a subordinate standing nearby, his voice steady but low. "I'll inform the Lord and determine our next move. We can't afford to lose control of this situation."
"Yes, sir," replied the subordinate, stepping forward to assume command of the room.
Without another word, the suited man strode to the exit, his movements deliberate and precise. The door hissed open, briefly flooding the room with the faint sounds of the chaos outside, before sealing shut behind him.
As the door closed, the woman turned back to the screens, her fingers tightening into fists at her sides. The feed on one of the monitors showed a guard being dragged into the shadows, his scream abruptly silenced.
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[East district, the red light district.]
[Inkatei adult store. 12:30]
"Fufufu… hehehehe… ohohohoho…"
The laughter was quiet at first. Muffled. The kind a man makes when he thinks no one's watching—and in this case, no one was.
Well… no one living.
Sat atop a counter amid a ruin of toppled bookshelves and risqué posters, was Jiraiya
Here he was, giggling like a pervert in a treasure vault.
"Who would've thought," he murmured, turning another page of an adult magazine, "that I'd stumble across a treasure trove in this chaotic world."
Jiraiya's eyes sparkled, cheeks glowing like embers. He leaned in, practically nose to page.
"Ah… the curvature of the hips… the poses… I haven't seen anything like it!"
With a shaky exhale, he flipped another page. "Hehehe… ohhh—this world isn't all bad after all. Dare I say, it might be my favorite one" The idols looked untouched by disaster, as radiant as if the apocalypse hadn't dared to come near them. He leaned in closer, lips curling into a grin of boyish glee.
The floor beneath him creaked suddenly, not from his movement, but from something... else.
He froze mid-page-turn.
Thud... thump... schlk.
It was faint at first, like someone dragging a wet mop along a linoleum floor. Then came the groan—low, broken, human but twisted. A shuffle behind the collapsed shelf near the back.
Jiraiya closed the magazine with a precise snap, rising with casual annoyance. "You couldn't wait until I was finished, huh?"
Not wanting to waste any precious time with his research. With a flick of his wrist, a kunai zipped through the air and lodged into the zombie's forehead with a sickening crack. The creature dropped mid-step, collapsing onto a pile of plastic-wrapped DVDs titled Midnight Nymphs: Summer Special.
He stared at it for a beat. The blood pooled slowly, mixing with glistening wrappers and dust.
He hummed before walking to the entrance, locking the door and nudging the door shut with heavy items.
"Best to prevent it from happening again." Turning back, he walked past the fresh corpse without giving it another glance. He slid back into his seat on the floor, picked up the magazine again, and sighed deeply.
"Now... where were we, Miss November? Ooo! I could use this as a reference for my works!"
The giggling resumed overnight.
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