The facility now pulsed with chaos.
Red emergency lights flashed like dying stars. Sirens shrieked through the halls. Gunfire roared.
And in the middle of it all—**Ren and Kaede were walking nonchalantly"
"If you die that's on you" ren told Kaede
She smirked "worry about yourself"
Multiple guards were now moving towards them. Bullets screamed toward them.
Ren moved first, his body weaving between the gunfire with unnatural precision. A bullet grazed his cheek—he didn't even flinch. His eyes locked onto the first wave of attackers.
Three men.
One raised an assault rifle—too slow.
Ren was already in his face, slamming his palm into the barrel—crushing it inward like paper. The guard barely had time to react before Ren's other hand found his throat.
Ren squeezed.
A sickening crunch. The man choked, body convulsing as Ren snapped his neck with one brutal twist.
The second guard lunged with a combat knife.
Ren caught his wrist—and stabbed him in the throat with his own blade.
The third tried to fire at point-blank range—Kaede appeared behind him, pressing her knife to his spine.
She whispered, "Bang."
And then she shoved the knife through his back, twisting it as he shrieked.
More boots thundered down the corridor.
Five. No, six. All of them opening fire at once.
Kaede twisted, her body moving like a shadow. Bullets tore through empty space where she had just been.
Ren, unfazed, charged straight through the storm of lead. Rounds whizzed past his head, barely missing. Not that the guards has bad aim anyone in the umbra division could efficiently dodge bullets.
One bullet grazed his forearm—he ignored the pain and kept moving.
The first attacker swung a rifle like a club.
Ren ducked under the strike, catching the man's wrist and twisting it backward—hard enough to tear ligaments. The guard screamed, and Ren wrenched the rifle free—
Then used it like a spear, ramming the barrel into the man's mouth.
The steel crushed teeth, snapped his jaw.
Ren pulled the trigger.
The back of the guard's head exploded.
Another soldier rushed him, trying to grab him from behind.
Ren's elbow lashed backward—shattering his nose.
The guard stumbled. Ren spun and grabbed his head—slamming it into the steel wall.
Once. Twice. Three times.
By the fourth, his skull caved in.
Kaede was just as vicious.
A guard tried to knife her from the side—she caught his wrist and bent it the wrong way until the bone snapped.
He screamed.
She ripped the knife from his fingers and rammed it through his throat.
Another guard came from behind, gun raised—Kaede spun, grabbing the corpse and using it as a shield.
Bullets tore through the dead man's body.
She threw him aside and lunged forward, planting a boot into the shooter's chest. The impact sent him crashing into a nearby console.
He gasped for breath, but Kaede was already on him.
She grabbed his head and slammed it into the keyboard.
Once. Twice. Again.
His skull split open against the keys, blood pooling between them.
Ren and Kaede didn't stop moving. More guards. More bodies.
A brute of a man, nearly seven feet tall, charged at Ren, wielding a combat knife.
Ren caught the blade between his palms.
The guard sneered. "Got you now, you little—"
Ren's fingers crushed the knife's blade, bending the steel inward.
The man's expression twisted into shock—before Ren headbutted him hard enough to crack his skull.
The brute staggered, dazed—Ren grabbed his lower jaw and ripped it clean off.
Blood sprayed.
The man collapsed, gurgling.
Another group of guards fired from the other end of the hallway.
Kaede dashed toward them, dodging bullets by mere inches. One round clipped her sleeve—she didn't even blink.
The first attacker raised his rifle.
Kaede was already there.
She grabbed the barrel and forced it into his chin—pulling the trigger for him.
His skull blew apart like a melon.
Two more tried to stop her. One swung a knife—Kaede sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and twisted until the bone tore through skin.
He shrieked.
She jammed his own knife into his eye.
The last guard turned to run.
Kaede snapped up a pistol from the ground—took her time—then fired a single round into the back of his head.
He slumped forward, twitching.
Silence.
Ren exhaled slowly, flicking blood from his hands.
Kaede smiled, wiping her knife on a dead man's uniform. "They knew we were coming. There is actually a rat in the syndicate"
Ren proceeded to squat and tilted his head. "We're done with the small fry. Let's go kill this son of a bitch."
And then—
The steel doors at the end of the hall hissed open.
A man stepped through.
Tall. Muscular. A presence that felt suffocating.
His eyes locked onto them—calm, unwavering.
He rolled his shoulders. Cracked his knuckles.
Ren looked irritated. "And who the fuck are you?."
BACK IN OSAKA
The waltz continued, elegant and seamless, as if a major part of the underworld wasn't collapsing beneath their feet.
Akihiro moved through the crowd, his smirk relaxed, his posture lazy—but his steps were precise. Deliberate.
He could feel Mai at his side, her hand looped through his in a mock display of affection. To anyone watching, they were just another couple enjoying the night—nothing more.
They were wrong.
Hideo Takeda stood near the head of the ballroom, surrounded by his most trusted guards and advisors. He was laughing, sipping from a fresh glass of champagne. A man who thought himself untouchable.
Akihiro exhaled. Arrogance made men blind.
A waiter approached, offering Mai a glass.
She took it gracefully, smiling. Her fingers brushed the tray for barely a second. When the waiter moved away, his balance faltered—barely noticeable.
Poison, Akihiro thought absently. She had always been subtle.
Mai took a slow sip from her own glass, her expression unreadable.
"Timing?" she murmured.
Akihiro's smirk widened.
"Now."
At that moment, the first scream rang out.
A woman collapsed near the dance floor, clutching her throat, convulsing violently. The poison was quick—Mai had ensured that.
Panic spread like wildfire.
Takeda's guards immediately went on high alert, their hands moving to their weapons—it was time.