The city felt calm and cool under the moonlight, the night air brushing softly against the crowded streets. Though the pace of people had slowed, the city still breathed with life—cars passing, footsteps echoing, distant chatter blending into a constant hum.
At the center of the city stood an enormous building, towering over everything around it. A massive screen stretched across its surface, glowing brightly with advertisements that painted shifting colors across the streets below.
The roads were still busy.
"I'm not going there. I'm really tired today, why don't you understand?" a boy said to his girlfriend, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
"You promised. Now take responsibility for that," the girl replied, irritation clear in her tone.
Nearby, a child tugged at his mother's hand. "Mama, can we eat outside?"
She smiled gently. "Sure, but not too much. You don't wake up till late afternoon once you eat outside."
Life moved on.
Ordinary.
Unaware.
Then—
The screen flickered.
At first, it was subtle. A small glitch. Then it grew
violent—colors distorting, light flashing
erratically, a harsh buzzing sound cutting through the night.
People slowed.
Then stopped.
Heads turned upward.
The flickering intensified…
And then—
It went completely dark.
A low murmur spread through the crowd.
"Hey, what happened? Why did the screen go dark? Is it broken?" someone asked, confusion spreading.
Abruptly—
The screen lit up again.
But this time…
Something felt wrong.
The glow was colder.
Heavier.
A voice echoed across the city.
"Hello there, fellow citizens."
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't calm.
It was… menacing.
The kind of voice that made people instinctively
hold their breath.
Conversations died instantly.
The entire street fell into silence as eyes locked
onto the screen.
The display changed.
Jester appeared.
Beside him, two politicians and a businessman were chained to chairs, their bodies tense, faces pale, eyes filled with fear.
Jester's wide, unnatural smile stretched across his face as he leaned slightly toward the camera.
"Are you tired of being just fellow taxpayers… with no benefits from your government?"
His voice slithered through the air.
"Or are you tired of the rich getting richer… and the poor getting poorer? Not because the poor lack talent… but because the rich never allow you to rise."
A faint, distorted chuckle escaped him.
"I don't know about you all… but I'm really fed
up."
His mismatched coloured eyes glinted under the screen's cold light.
"You people are so afraid… that you don't even question those in power."
The crowd stood frozen, unable to fully grasp what they were witnessing. Murmurs spread, confusion mixing with unease as eyes remained locked on the screen
Jester continued, his voice smooth yet unsettling.
"Well, here is some good news… we will question those in power on behalf of you. We will bring a new era… we will bring a new change."
He slowly turned toward the two politicians. With a sharp motion, he yanked the clothes out of their mouths.
Both men gasped for air.
Their bodies trembled uncontrollably. Sweat dripped from their foreheads, soaking into their collars. Their legs shook so violently that the chains rattled against the chairs. Even breathing felt difficult under Jester's gaze—it pressed down on them like something invisible, something suffocating.
Jester tilted his head slightly, smiling.
"So… the first question," he said, voice almost playful. "You promised to build hospitals once you won the election. Didn't you say you would double their number?"
He leaned closer.
"So where did that promise go…? Please, tell the public."
The politician's lips trembled. His voice broke as he tried to speak.
"It's not my fault, it's—"
BANG!
The gunshot exploded through the air.
The sound echoed across the silent streets, sharp and deafening.
For a split second, everything froze.
A dark hole formed in the politician's temple. Blood streamed down his face, dripping onto his clothes, his body going limp against the chains.
Jester stood there, a gun in his hand.
His expression twisted—his voice cracking with raw, controlled rage.
"It's your fault."
Across the city—
Shock spread instantly.
People stared at the screen, unable to move, unable to speak… as the reality of what they had just witnessed sank in.
[Scene Shift: Island of Death]
The forest felt undeniably wrong.
The trees stood too still. The air too heavy. It felt as if unseen eyes were watching from every direction, hiding behind leaves, behind shadows, behind silence itself. The faint rustle of branches came and went without pattern, making the darkness feel alive.
Tap… Tap… Tap…
Hikaru's footsteps echoed softly against the damp ground, cutting through the deep, unnatural silence.
Behind him—
"H–hey… aren't you afraid of the darkness?" Sayuri asked, her voice trembling. Her eyes darted from one shadow to another, trying to catch something—anything—that might be watching.
No response.
"Hey… are you even listening to me?" she asked again, hesitation clear in her tone.
"Just shut up," Hikaru replied, his voice as flat and cold as ever.
Sayuri flinched.
Suddenly, her voice cracked, tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks. "I knew it… no one ever wants to be friends with me. You think I'm weird, right?"
Hikaru stopped.
Irritation snapped through him.
"What do you think of yourself, huh?" he said sharply. "If you think saying those weird, cringe lines will melt me, forget it."
"But—"
Before she could finish, Hikaru stepped closer.
His eyes locked onto hers—cold, sharp, almost lethal.
"Listen," he said, his voice low and firm. "If you can't make friends, maybe you're just in the wrong circle. And don't forget where we are."
A pause.
"We're in the middle of a test."
His gaze hardened.
"We are opponents. You're alone… and I could kill you instantly."
The air between them tightened.
"Be strong. Stand for yourself. Don't act like a protected child."
Sayuri froze, her breath uneven.
"My… my… look at you two, fighting like kids."
A new voice slipped into the scene.
Both Hikaru and Sayuri turned.
A figure walked toward them casually, hands tucked into his pockets. He wore a purple jacket, white track pants, and boots. The tips of his messy hair were dyed purple. Multiple piercings lined his ears, rings covered his fingers, and a gold chain rested loosely around his neck, glinting faintly in the dim light.
"If I'm not wrong," he continued, smirking, "you're the former hitman… the one they call Bloodstained. It's an honor to meet you."
He tilted his head slightly.
"My name is Hayuka. Let's see how strong you really are."
Hikaru didn't react.
"You yap a lot,"Hikaru replied coldly.
Behind him, Sayuri stood still, her breath quiet, eyes fixed on the newcomer as the tension in the forest slowly tightened.