"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"
The man's voice cracked as he stumbled through the narrow alley, sweat dripping down his round face. He kept looking back, breathing hard, almost wheezing. His expensive suit was soaked, his gold buttons clinking as he ran.
"You don't know who I am!" he screamed again, tripping over a trash can but forcing himself up. "I–I'm Nishida Ryosei! I'll end your bloodline! I swear—just stay away!"
His threats bounced off the brick walls, but the alley stayed silent. Too silent.
He turned a corner, chest heaving, his steps heavy and desperate.
"I… I can pay! You want money? I can—"
Thwat.
A clean, sharp sound.
For a moment he didn't feel anything, just a cold line across his throat—almost gentle. Then warmth poured down his neck. His breath hitched, eyes wide in shock as he touched the thin red slit.
He tried to speak, but only a faint wet sound came out.
Standing behind him was a man dressed in black. No expression. No emotion. His eyes were hollow, empty like a dead winter sky. In his hand, a katana rested lightly, fresh droplets sliding down the blade.
The fat man sank to his knees, then collapsed into the puddle under him.
The assassin wiped the blade with calm movements and sheathed it.
No hurry.
He pulled out his phone, screen lighting up his pale face.
MessageSent:
Done.
For a second, nothing.
Then a new message popped up.
Toya:
Good. Paymenttransferred.
A second message arrived immediately after, this one containing a photo.
The assassin leaned closer, studying it.
A woman in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. Long black hair tied in a sleek style. Sharp eyes behind thin glasses. Perfect posture. A calm but powerful presence. Even through the photo, she looked like someone used to commanding whole rooms.
The text under the photo read:
Ayaka Takahashi
CEO – Takahashi Group
Reward: 150,000,000 yen
The assassin's thumb hovered over the screen for a moment, as if taking in the amount. He wasn't surprised. Big companies meant big enemies. Big enemies meant big money.
Another message from Toya:
Toya:
This one is different. High security. Don't mess around. I'll send details later.
The assassin typed slowly:
Understood.
He pocketed his phone and glanced once more at Nishida's lifeless body. The man's eyes were still open in disbelief, mouth frozen mid-threat.
Without another word, he stepped over the corpse and walked deeper into the alley's shadows. His footsteps were soft, almost soundless, fading until only the quiet hum of the city remained.
A stray cat slipped past the body, sniffed the air, and ran away.
Far above, neon signs flickered, advertising luxury brands and expensive clubs—worlds away from the dark corners he moved in.
But that world was his hunting ground.
A photo. A name. A price.
And Ayaka Takahashi was next.
..........
Morning light slipped through the curtains as I buttoned my shirt. The white fabric fit cleanly across my chest and shoulders. My body wasn't bulky, but every line was sharp—lean muscles built from constant training and system, defined enough that even a loose shirt couldn't hide the shape. I tucked it in, adjusted the collar, then pulled on a pair of dark pants that hugged my waist perfectly.
I stepped in front of the mirror and pushed my fingers through my hair. A few strands fell forward, so I brushed them back until it looked neat and effortless. The reflection staring back was calm, almost empty, like always.
No excitement. No nervousness. Just another day.
My backpack lay open on the bed. I packed the basics—fresh clothes, charger, the usual system-related items, and a few useful things I might need on the mountain.
The dimensional storage meant I didn't need much, but appearances mattered. After tightening the straps, I swung the bag over my shoulder.
As I walked out into the living room, soft footsteps rushed toward me.
"Kenji!"
Keiko came almost running, her long hair swaying behind her. She wore a fitted cardigan and a light skirt, the kind of outfit that showed off her mature curves without being obvious.
Her chest bounced slightly with each step, not exaggerated, just… naturally impossible to ignore. Her figure had that warm, adult softness mixed with a graceful shape that made most men glance twice.
Her smile was bright—too bright.
She held out a lunch box wrapped neatly in cloth. "Here, honey. I made this for you."
I paused. No warmth rose in my chest. No surprise showed on my face.
"…Thanks, Keiko." My voice stayed flat, polite but distant.
She looked almost relieved when I accepted the lunch, like she had been waiting for this tiny interaction all morning.
"You didn't need to," I added while adjusting the strap of my bag. "I'll be staying there for a few days."
"It's okay," she said gently. "Just take care of yourself, alright?"
Again with that smile. Soft, sweet… almost too easy. Nothing like her in the last timeline.
But I gave her nothing back. My face stayed calm, unreadable. Inside, a small part of me wondered why she was acting like this, but I didn't let it reach the surface.
I nodded once. "I'll go now."
She lifted a hand in a tiny wave. "Have a safe trip, Kenji."
I stepped out of the apartment and closed the door behind me. Her smile remained stuck in my mind for a second, then faded.
The morning breeze brushed against my face as I walked to the bus station. Near the bench, a large green dustbin stood beside a notice board.
I didn't hesitate.
I dropped the neatly wrapped lunch straight into the bin.
( HEARTLESS JERK! )
"Shut up," I muttered under my breath.
I sat on the bench and rested my backpack beside me.