- The Wielder of Katanas

Kenji walked briskly toward the battle. He wasn't being paid enough to run, but he would at least put in a little effort. The only thing that mattered right now were Hyunji and Min-jun. He owed their mother, after all, to keep them safe.

The scene he came upon was almost shocking. People were dead, clearly. The buildings around him were leveled, and hundreds had likely been crushed, maybe more. A scared looking man stumbled past him, dragging an unconscious woman. There was a baby crying in the distance. Kenji ignored all of it. They weren't his problem.

"Hello?" He called out into the darkness. He listened, and for a moment there was only silence. Then, a tapping broke through the stillness.

There were footsteps approaching, slow but heavy. A chain rattled, and Kenji placed his hands on the handles of his katanas. "Who's there?"

A purple light ignited the darkness, and the shadows of two figures appeared.

The larger of the two figures shoved the smaller forward, and the chain scraped across the ground.

Kenji knelt down, recognizing the hostage. "Cookie? Are you alright?"

Min-jun looked up. His face was bleeding, and his clothes were tattered. Other than that, he was fine. "Uncle Kenji?"

Kenji smiled. He tried to hide it, but he was relieved. "You're getting older."

"You here for my bounty?" Interrupted the other figure. They took another step forward, placing a heavy boot on the other end of the chain.

Min-jun gasped, reaching for the collar wrapped around his neck. "Help," he whispered.

"I'm here for my nephew. I'm sure you know who I am, so I'll let you go, as long as you apologize to Min-jun."

The three eyed man burst out laughing. "I don't know you. You're kidding, right? He's mine. I took down two fighters already, including his sister. You're gonna be no different, old man."

Old man? He was thirty. Kenji touched his hair self consciously. It had a gray streak, stark against the rest of his black hair. "That was rude."

BOOM!

The three of them looked up to the sky, where a fleet of ships had just broken into the atmosphere.

The three eyed man chuckled. "Vaas. This complicates things."

Kenji took a couple steps forward, putting Min-jun behind him.

His opponent pulled the chain, dragging Min-jun backward.

"You don't want to do that," Kenji said. A second later, the chain was split in half, and Kenji's left katana was withdrawn. He heard Min-jun gasping for air behind him.

"You better run, kid," he said, drawing his other katana.

The three eyed man cracked his neck. "You're done, old man."

"Did you know, thousands of years ago, only the most elite soldiers were able to use these," Kenji said, admiring his blades. "Samurai were stronger, faster, and more skilled than other soldiers. Katanas were their weapon of choice for the sharpness, lightness, and perfect balance they bring to a fight. Many samurai even thought of katanas as an extension of their soul. All of this to say, I have two of them. And you fucked with the wrong people, three eyes."

Kenji pushed off with one foot, propelling himself toward the enemy. Then, he slashed them with a speed almost imperceptible to the human eye. Kenji rolled to a stop on the opposite side of the enemy, who had knelt to the ground. A cut was opening across his throat, and blood had begun to splatter on the concrete.

"Weren't expecting that, huh?" Kenji asked, a satisfied smile crossing his face. "You got a name?"

The enemy coughed, and more blood poured out. "Bendrir." He stood. "And no, I wasn't expecting that. You're fast, for an old man."

Kenji readied his katanas again, trying to control his anger. Instead, he focused on the wound he'd just incurred. Slowly, the wound was closing up. "Interesting. My beauties would have decapitated most people with a slash like that. You must have a strong neck. But no matter. Hey, fun fact: if used properly, these can cut through five humans at once."

Bendrir growled, wiping the remnants of the blood from his now scarred throat. "Good thing I'm not human." His three eyes began to darken, and his fists ignited with a purple energy.

Kenji nodded. "Yes. Good thing. I'm glad that you showed up, actually. For years, I've been looking for any bastard strong enough to withstand my katanas. I've faced some opponents with pretty tough skin like you. But that doesn't matter. Eventually, they all fall."

Suddenly, he felt the oxygen sucked from the air around him. Bendrir's fists began to glow again, illuminating the world around them.

Kenji let the air out of his lungs. It was an interesting side effect of his opponents power. But he wouldn't let it affect him. Closing his eyes, Kenji quieted his mind, which was rampant with thoughts. Then, harnessing his energy, Kenji pushed off.

When he opened his eyes again, Bendrir was once again kneeling. "What did you do to me?" He asked.

Kenji smiled, looking at the severed hand laying on the ground. He must've missed the other, which was bleeding but still attached. "Sorry, bounty hunter. There's a similarity between me and a samurai. I only serve one master: myself. But there's a big difference too. I'm not honorable."