The man's blackened arm snapped forward.
Akira barely had time to register the movement before his body was flung away.
He slammed into the tiled street, skidding helplessly until his spine crashed into a concrete support pillar.
Pain detonated through his back.
Air burst from his lungs as his vision swam.
Across the street, the Scissors agent staggered—then was sent flying straight through the glass front of a Hunter shop.
CRASH.
The sound exploded through the block.
Glass rained down like shrapnel. Civilians screamed. Metal clanged as weapons toppled from shattered displays.
Akira groaned and pushed himself upright, one hand pressed to his ribs.
Inside the ruined storefront, rows of weapons gleamed beneath flickering fluorescent lights—swords, rifles, Tao cannons, restraints—tools designed to kill monsters now lying helpless behind broken glass.
He took a step forward.
Then stopped.
"Ito said not to get involved with Tao users," he muttered, jaw tightening.
A crooked smile crept across his face anyway.
"But I can't let scissors just get away with this."
Akira broke into a sprint.
Inside the shop, the Scissors agent brushed shards of glass from his shoulders as if they were dust.
Behind the counter, a young man and woman huddled together, faces drained of color.
"I came for the Railgun," the masked man said calmly. "The one made by Atlas. I know you have it."
The woman's fingers trembled as she clutched her coworker's sleeve. "C-call a Hunter," she whispered.
The man slammed his palm onto a concealed panel beneath the counter.
Nothing happened.
The indicator stayed dark.
Her breath hitched. "It's not working… why isn't it—"
The man's eyes widened in realization.
"Because of him…"
The woman swallowed. "He's—?"
"The fourteenth user of the Perfect Crime bloodline," the man said quietly. "His mask allows him to commit any crime without consequence—as long as he doesn't directly harm someone."
Her stomach dropped.
"Then the alarm won't activate…"
She forced a shaky smile. "M-maybe if we grab something from the armory, we can still—"
The man shook his head.
Panic seeped through his voice. "We're finished."
The Scissors agent's lips curved beneath the slick black mask.
Glass crunched behind him.
A hand seized the back of his head.
CRACK.
Akira slammed the man's skull into the concrete floor.
The impact split the tiles.
The black mask shattered instantly—splintering apart before dissolving into smoke. The man's body went limp.
Akira stood over him, breathing steady, eyes cold.
"Guess that's that."
For a moment—
Silence.
Then the woman behind the counter collapsed to her knees, relief crashing over her. She ripped off her nametag, tossed it aside, and bowed deeply.
"Thank you so much, sir."
She glanced up at the shattered security camera. "Boss, I quit. I'll work at a grocery store or something."
Akira scratched his head. "Yeah. Can't blame you."
Then—
The air changed.
From the dark back room, two figures stepped into the light.
Masked. Uniformed. Heavy.
The first was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a demon mask etched with a faintly glowing red X. His black school uniform hung loose, sleeves rolled up, long hair tied back.
The second was a girl—around Akira's age. Same uniform. Same mark. Her stance was calm.
Too calm.
The boy tilted his head, amused. "Guess the old man couldn't handle it."
He tossed a long black case toward the girl.
She caught it effortlessly.
The metal hummed—alive with Tao.
"Atlas Model: Tesla," the boy said casually. "Try not to break it."
She snapped the case open.
The air pulsed.
Akira's instincts screamed.
The boy vanished.
No warning.
No distortion.
He was suddenly there—
A fist rocketing toward Akira's face.
Akira twisted at the last possible instant. The blow grazed his cheek, skin tearing open. He countered with a kick—
—but the boy caught his leg mid-swing.
Spun him.
And hurled him directly into the Railgun's line of fire.
BOOM.
A deafening crack split the mall.
Akira's body was swallowed by white light.
He smashed through a display of Tao batteries, crashed into the far wall, sparks and smoke erupting around him.
Pain screamed through his ribs.
He groaned, forcing himself upright, blood dripping down his chin.
"…Yeah," he muttered hoarsely. "That might be too much for me."
His Hunter ID chimed.
MISSION ASSIGNED. Objective: Neutralize two unidentified Taoists wearing demon masks. Affiliation: Suspected Scissors
Akira stared at the message.
Then sighed.
"You've gotta be kidding me."
He brushed glass from his jacket and looked toward the fading trails of Tao as the pair vanished into the city.
"Great," he muttered, breaking into a run. "Ito's going to be so mad."
Neon lights flickered behind him.
And the hunt began.