---
Hunted in the Dark
The city was dying.
Once a bustling metropolis of neon lights and ceaseless movement, Kurokawa City had become a graveyard of ruins. What had once been streets filled with life were now crumbling pathways of shattered glass, overturned cars, and the lingering scent of blood.
The silence was unnatural. Oppressive.
Somewhere in the shadows, they were watching.
The Phantom Syndicate had turned the city into a prison. And within that prison, the heroes were being hunted.
---
The Gathering Storm
Inside a half-collapsed café, Akira Takahashi pressed his back against the cold brick wall. The dim light from a cracked neon sign outside flickered intermittently, casting jagged shadows across the dusty floor. The others crouched around him, their breathing low and controlled.
Their footsteps had stopped echoing.
That meant one thing: The enemy was closing in.
Akira shut his eyes, activating Echo Chamber.
A pulse of sound waves spread outward, crawling through the city ruins like unseen tendrils. The vibrations painted a picture in his mind—one more detailed than sight alone.
Footsteps. Whispered orders. The faint click of a rifle's safety being disabled.
He counted.
Two snipers on the rooftop. High-caliber. Precise.
Four enforcers in the alleys. Heavily armed. Moving slow.
A commander. Watching. Waiting. Controlling the battlefield.
Akira's eyes snapped open.
"They're closing in," he whispered.
Daisuke's jaw tightened. "We're boxed in."
Mei tilted her head, flipping a knife between her fingers. "So what's the plan?"
Akira's mind raced. The Phantom Syndicate had prepared for everything.
The subways? Collapsed.
The rooftops? Covered by snipers.
The main roads? Sealed off with armored barricades.
Every escape route had been accounted for.
Yuki adjusted the grip on her dagger. "We walked into a trap."
Renji let out a low whistle. "Damn. They're good."
Akira exhaled. No.
Not good. Prepared.
And if the Phantom Syndicate had anticipated every escape route…
Then they needed to stop running.
---
A Predator's Hunt
The Bloodhound's Gaze
From a rooftop overlooking the ruins, Ryo "Bloodhound" Asakura crouched, watching.
His crimson eyes gleamed in the moonlight. His lips curled into a smirk.
The rats had run straight into his maze.
Beside him, his Stand, No Mercy, pulsed.
It wasn't just tracking them.
It was reading them.
The subtle shifts in their body weight.
The rhythm of their breathing.
The fluctuations in their heartbeat.
Ryo closed his eyes, allowing his Stand to paint an invisible map of their movements.
A chuckle rumbled in his chest. "They think they're hiding."
He reached for his radio.
"They're in position," he said, voice smooth and confident. "Move in."
---
Ambush in the Dark
The Attack Begins
The first warning came too late.
CRACK.
A sniper round shattered the café's front window.
Daisuke barely ducked in time, shards of glass slicing across his cheek.
"SNIPERS!" Mei yelled, flipping backward behind the counter.
BOOM.
An explosion rocked the street outside, sending a shockwave through the building. Smoke poured in, choking the air.
They weren't just being attacked.
They were being overwhelmed.
From the rooftops, Syndicate snipers rained down gunfire.
From the alleys, enforcers moved in, weapons drawn.
From the streets, armored vehicles blocked every escape route.
The trap had been set.
A shadow dropped through the broken window, landing with effortless grace.
Ryo Asakura.
He rose to his full height, cracking his knuckles, his predatory grin never fading.
"End of the line."
---
The Battle for Survival
Blades and Bullets
Mei moved first.
With a flick of her wrist, Razor Symphony activated.
SHINK.
Invisible blades of sound tore through the first wave of Syndicate soldiers.
Limbs sliced. Blood sprayed. Bodies dropped.
But Ryo?
He was already behind her.
His Stand, No Mercy, pulsed—and he vanished.
A split-second later, he reappeared—a knife at Mei's throat.
She barely spun away in time, the blade grazing her skin.
Renji cursed. "He's playing with us."
Yuki's eyes darkened. "No. He's studying us."
---
A Mind Unmatched
Akira analyzed everything.
The way Ryo moved. The way his Stand pulsed.
This wasn't just speed.
This was instinct.
"No Mercy isn't just tracking us," Akira murmured. "It's predicting us."
Ryo tilted his head, smirking. "You catch on fast, Sound Engineer."
Hiroshi wiped blood from his lips. "So how do we counter it?"
Akira's eyes narrowed.
They couldn't run.
They had to break his instincts.
He stepped forward.
"Let's find out."
---
Akira vs. Ryo: The Engineer vs. The Bloodhound
Ryo smirked. "You wanna fight me, Sound Engineer?"
Akira's Stand, Echo Chamber, pulsed.
The battlefield shifted.
Gunshots distorted.
Footsteps echoed in reverse.
The sounds of battle twisted unnaturally.
Ryo's smirk faltered.
His own Stand's predictions scrambled.
His instincts screamed false signals.
A heartbeat behind him— but no one was there.
A step to the left— but the attack came from the right.
Ryo lunged—but Akira wasn't there.
A fist slammed into his ribs.
CRACK.
Ryo staggered back, coughing blood.
"You…" His eyes widened. "You altered my instincts."
Akira's gaze was cold.
"You rely on prediction," he said. "So I changed what you hear."
Ryo's smirk wavered.
For the first time, he was blind.
And Akira?
He wasn't running anymore.
---
The War Continues
The battle raged.
Daisuke unleashed Gale Phantom, winds tearing through Syndicate forces.
Mei danced through enemies, Razor Symphony slashing through flesh.
Hiroshi clashed blades with Syndicate enforcers, his Blazing Ronin igniting the night.
But they weren't just surviving.
They were fighting back.
And this time?
The Phantom Syndicate wasn't prepared.