The silence that followed his words was suffocating.
"Yo, Barbie," he repeated casually, as if he hadn't just walked into the most secure room in the Syndicate headquarters and addressed five of the most feared elders in the world like he was ordering a drink at a bar. He sat up on the raised stone platform, one leg draped lazily, fingers laced behind his head as though he belonged there.
The masked man.
Every umbra division member present and every elder in the room felt it—the deliberate, oppressive calm that shrouded him. He wasn't nervous. He wasn't cautious. He wasn't even curious.
He was just there. In their fucking domain.
Daizen's voice was a slab of ice, deep and unflinching. "Do you know where you are, boy?"
"I do," he replied, tilting his head slightly. "But does it really matter? All roads lead here eventually, don't they?"
Kenji muttered under his breath. "Who the hell does this guy think he is?"
The masked man's head turned slowly in his direction. "That's the wrong question," he said, not with menace—but with eerie amusement. "Who I am… doesn't matter."
Akihiro gave a low whistle. "Damn. Poetic. You get that off a fortune cookie?"
Even Ren flinched—just slightly—when the masked figure turned his faceless mask toward Akihiro. No eye holes, no mouth. Just an expressionless, polished shell that caught the dim lighting like a mirror to nothingness.
Kaito Takeda stepped forward calm as usual, his aura flickering with a suppressed storm. "Why are you here? And who fed you Syndicate intel?"
"Ah," he said, slowly tapping his gloved fingers against the armrest. "The rat. That's the part you're all focused on, isn't it? Always pointing fingers. For all you know I and the rat could be the same person, or I could be one of you."
Shion narrowed her eyes. "You're evading."
"No. You're just not hearing the answers you want."
Daizen's voice cut through like tempered steel. "Are you working with the man named Arashi?"
"Arashi?" The masked man echoed, as if the name was a passing cloud. "Sound familiar."
Daizen's eyes were locked on him like a hawk about to descend. "Answer the question."
"I walk my own path," the masked figure said. "But… let's just say he and I are acquainted. You could tell we are connected through the outfit. Good."
Kaito's voice was a blade now. "You are Y, aren't you?"
A beat.
Then came the slowest nod imaginable.
"That took you long enough," Y said, mirthless and mocking. "For an organization that prides itself on perception, you're all a little slow. Maybe too many egos in the room."
Kenji was already cracking his knuckles. "Try saying that again, jackass."
Shion raised her hand to stop him—but her eyes never left Y.
Masaru's voice finally boomed out. "Tell us your endgame. What are you after?"
Y's tone shifted slightly—still calm, still unreadable—but with the faintest hint of… detachment.
"Endgames are for people with beginnings. I don't want to end anything."
He paused, then tilted his head.
"I want to show you the truth."
A beat of silence.
"—And then burn down the lies built on top of it. Along with all your organizations and this world"
"Who's the rat?" Daizen demanded.
Y shrugged. "Could be anyone. Could be no one. You've been bleeding from the inside for years, Daizen. You just didn't see the wound."
Kaito stepped forward again, eyes gleaming with dangerous fire. "You speak like you know us."
Y turned slightly, finally addressing the room properly.
"I know all of you. Masaru—brute force, but loyal. Tsukasa—the quiet thinker. Shion—calculating, sharp. Kaito—angry and desperate to hold your legacy together with bloody hands. And Daizen…"
The mask turned.
"You… you're the one I respect. Because you know what it means to be feared."
Daizen's expression was stone. "You dare speak as if you are our equal?"
"Equal?" Y chuckled softly. "No. Not yet."
He stood. Slowly. Casually. Every movement deliberate, like time bowed to his will.
"But make no mistake, i have abilities beyond your comprehension… If all of you think you can win against me—" he turned to face the entire room—"then to call you delusional would be an understatement."
Hiroshi made a click with his tongue. "Well, you underestimate us too much, how about we teach you some manners."
Elder Shion raised her hand "calm down Hiroshi. This man is actually dangerous"
This guy was talking to the fucking gods of the u see world and was so confident he could take them all. Just who the hell was he?
The tension snapped like a wire.
Suddenly—BOOM.
Three Syndicate agents burst through the wall behind him, guns raised. Dust scattered. The lights above flickered.
"ON THE GROUND!" one of them barked. "NOW!"
Daizen took a step forward, voice harsh. "Stand down, now. Don't engage—!"
But it was already too late.
The masked man didn't move—he vanished.
In one breath.
What followed was a blur of brutality.
One agent's spine was shattered by a palm strike. Another had his throat crushed before he could blink. The third… wasn't even whole anymore.
Split in half, wether he did it with his hands or a weapon no one could tell.
No wasted motion.
No wasted mercy.
It wasn't just speed. It wasn't just strength. It was technique.
Kaede's breath hitched.
"That… speed," she whispered. "I've only ever seen the elders move that fast."
The elders dissent say anything but they all knew that only a handful of them could move that fast.
He'd moved so fast casually.
Daizen's hand twitched, and even Kaito shifted his stance slightly.
For the first time, even the elders showed alarm.
Ren stood there. Silent. Unmoving. Cold—but something behind his eyes twisted. He didn't show it. But for a moment… he felt it.
The closest thing he had ever felt to fear.
Y was already standing again, pristine, mask untouched, hands behind his back like a fucking school teacher.
"Now, what did we learn?" he said simply.
Akihiro swallowed and forced a grin. "You're one scary bastard."
Y turned to him. "And yet, you laugh."
"I'm stupid like that."
The masked man tilted his head again.
"Keep laughing, Akihiro Takeda. It makes the silence more interesting."
And then—
Gone.
Just like that. No smoke. No flash. Just—absence.
A ghost that never breathed.
The chamber was silent again—except for the soft drip of blood from the bodies behind them.
Kaede wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "What the actual fuck just happened?"
Kenji exhaled hard. "We're all screwed. That's what happened."
Daizen's voice brought the room back to order.
"Double the guard around the elder chambers. And the four of you should not breathe a word of this to anyone your days go as normal. It is clear now the threat that this masked killer poses. We'll find out who he is. And when we do—we won't just kill him. We'll erase everything he ever loved."
His eyes met Ren's.
And for the first time in a long time, Ren didn't look away.