Out of the Frying Pan, into the fire
2012
Two streets Outside of the St. Regis hotel
Japan
6:49 PM
*Bang**Bang**Bang* *Bang* *Bang* *Bang*
*Ping**Ping**Ping* *Ping*
A barrage of old Chinese 7.62 rounds ricocheted off Yoru's shield, showering the concrete streets with white-hot sparks as the aged bullets shattered on impact.
When the sound of firing ceased, the hitwoman pivoted her body and whipped her LMG out.
*RATATATATA*
She squeezed off a burst of rapid fire, hot lead spewed out of the end of the fluted barrel and chain casings flung out of the open ejection port. Several henchmen screamed as the high-caliber rounds ripped through and tore apart their cheap suits and vital organs.
The assassin then quickly hid behind her escutcheon once more. Seconds later, the situated yakuza unleashed another hailstorm of projectiles.
*Bang**Bang**Bang* *Bang* *Bang* *Bang*
*Ping**Ping**Ping* *Ping*
Progress toward the hotel has been slow. The constant deluge of Omi grunts halting any sort of progress to a snail's pace. Each time she eradicated a blockade, another barricade of parked cars and gangsters would be awaiting her.
However, there is a silver lining in her onerous situation. Despite their almost overwhelming numbers, the clan members aren't outfitted with the best of gear.
From what she saw, the yakuza are mostly equipped with cheap, mass-produced Chinese military surplus. From 7.62 x 17mm sub-machine guns and pistols to more robust 7.62 x 39mm SKS-pattern rifles, all of their guns were barely serviceable.
On top of their low quality gear, none of the henchmen were equipped with anything remotely resembling body armor. No Kevlar, no ceramic, just cheap suits that aren't even thick enough to stave off the cool Osakan air.
To add to that, Yoru could see all the gangsters were relatively young, almost all of them being in their early twenties. From the old Toyota vans and Nissan cars they likely drove in on, it's evident they were not very high on the totem pole.
It's obvious that the largest crime syndicate in Osaka was hoping to wear her out, forcing her to expend all of her ammunition on their lower-ranked members so she wouldn't have anything to fight their superiors with.
*Bang**Bang**Bang* *Bang* *Bang Bang* *Bang* *Bang**Bang*
*Ping**Ping* *Ping* *Ping**Ping**Ping*
As more bullets broke apart upon her riot shield, Yoru took a peek at her HK 121's magazine. A wave of displeasure washed over the assassin when she saw that the MG was slowly running dry.
Her original pool of a hundred and twenty rounds had shrunk to a measly twenty-six during her way to the hotel. Once the remaining ammunition was expended, her squad weapon was as useful as a hunk of heavy scrap metal.
*RATATATATA*
'At this rate, it's impossible to fight through them without using up everything I have.' The hitwoman thought to herself after another burst of automatic fire. 'I'm only halfway to the hotel and I'm already running dry. I need to find a way around them.'
*BangBangBangBang* *Bang* *Bang*
*Ping* *Ping**Ping* *Ping**Ping**Ping*
*RATATATATA*
Yoru hefted her shield and shot another burst at the squad of grunts. The barrage of LMG fire tore through henchmen who weren't able to react on time and forced the rest to duck behind cover, buying precious seconds for the assassin to scan the surrounding area.
'A security office, a steakhouse...' The teen mentally listed what she saw, trying to find anything she could use to navigate around the blockade. 'And an office building. Which means... There!'
The girl had found her way out, a narrow gap tucked in between a Nick Stock and the Kochi Prefecture Osaka Office. Perfect.
Yoru squatted low and leaned forward before lifting her heel. She put all her weight into her front leg as an olympic sprinter would and charged at the holed up henchmen like a storming triceratops.
*Bang* *BangBangBangBang* *Bang* *Bang* *Bang*
*PingPingPingPing* *PingPingPing* *Ping* *Ping*
The remaining six-man squad opened fire upon her in a frenzied panic. After all, what sane person would charge straight into an armed barricade like that?
Yoru's low stance and small frame guaranteed that every part of her body was hidden behind the shield. After only a few seconds of sustained fire, all of their guns — some sooner than others — clicked empty.
Not giving any of the grunts an opportunity to reload, the teen immediately uncovered herself and raised her HK 121. She yanked back the trigger and the LMG spat out a steady stream of FMJ rounds, peppering two of the yakuza with fatal bullet wounds.
*RATATATATATATATATA*
The remaining four quickly ducked behind their vehicles for cover before Yoru could pivot the barrel of her gun toward them. The suit-wearing girl stopped firing and took several more steps before diving over the hoods of the stationary automobiles.
*Thud*
She sailed through the air like a leaping dolphin and rolled across the asphalt road, dispersing the force of her impact throughout her body.
*Clank*
When her knees touched the ground, Yoru firmly planted her riot shield into the concrete. A spider web of cracks emanated from the impact zone while the assassin's momentum ground to a halt.
The hitwoman then raised her German Squad weapon and squeezed, letting out one final sweeping burst at the huddling Omi clansmen.
*RATATATATATATA*
"Ahhhhhh!" "ARRRGGHHH!"
Two simultaneous death screams ripped out as the last seven rounds turned two more yakuza members into Swiss cheese.
*Click*
When the MG clicked empty, one of the two remaining henchmen attempted to clumsily insert a magazine into his Type 85 submachine gun. Desperately trying to seize the opportunity to kill the Angel of Death and live to see another day.
Seeing this, the hitwoman readjusted her grip on the gun and threw it like a spear. Even though the LMG's center-heavy frame would bar it from being a practical projectile under normal circumstances, it sailed through the air like a missile.
Aided by its tremendous weight, its eighteen inch (46 cm) barrel impaled the man through his eye. He was dead before the cold-forged exited the back of his skull.
*Squelch*
*Cl-cl-clack*
"H-Hey!" the last remaining Omi clan member called out, throwing down his empty Type 56 right before Yoru reached for her PDW. "I surrender, I surrender!"
The SKS-pattern rifle clattered to the ground, and Yoru narrowed her eyes. The grunt's arms were too close to his gun for comfort for her.
She had fallen victim to false surrenders in the past, and lost good people because of it. Even though the gangster says he's surrendering, the assassin isn't going to take any chances.
The teenager whipped the Belgian SBR toward the yakuza in spite of his weaponless status and the man's eyes widened as she flicked off her rifle's safety.
"H-Hey!" The suit-wearing henchman fearfully cried out as Yoru rose to her feet. "I said I surrender!"
"Put your hands up." Yoru commanded, her eyes laser-focused on the clansman's hands, ready to pepper him with holes if he so much as twitched for his weapon. "Over your head, not just barely above your gun."
The young yakuza member's arms fearfully shot into the air, realizing that his surrender might not have looked genuine with his hand placement.
"Good." She remarked, tension visibility releasing from her short frame. "Now keep your hands in the air and slowly stand up. Don't make any sudden movements or else I'll shoot."
The Omi clan member nodded and followed the purple-haired girl's orders. He steadily rose to his feet, his eyes never once leaving the gun that was pointed directly at him.
"W-Well?" The gangster stuttered out a couple of seconds after rising to his full height. "W-what do you want me to do now?"
"Leave." Yoru frankly answered, the sheer bluntness of her response caught the inexperienced henchman off guard. "You're free to go."
"What?" The yakuza breathed out, his fearful stutter replaced with sheer confusion.
"I said you're free to leave." The hitwoman repeated herself while her rifle was still trained onto the clansman.
"Even after all this... You're just... You're just going to let me go?" The henchman incredulously questioned, his disbelief intensifying. "After you gunned down all of us and threw..."
He trailed off, eyes widening in absolute horror.
"Oh god, you threw your machine gun straight through Kichiro's head." The amateur gangster trembled when his mind finally processed what he saw just moments prior.
"That I did." Yoru indifferently stated, watching as the yakuza began hyperventilating and breaking down. "So, are you going to go?"
With the assassin's last statement, the grunt turned around and bolted, screaming in terror as he put as much distance as he could between him and the teenager.
Looking on at the young clansman scampering away from her, Yoru let go of her silenced rifle and let it dangle from her side. She huffed and started jogging toward the gap.
She doesn't really feel bad about taking lives nowadays. That part of her died a slow death after her first kill on that rooftop all those years ago, completely fizzling out just after her father's death. But it's situations like this that sometimes give the teen pause.
The people she's fighting aren't trained assassins. They're just young men who're in way over their heads. The grunts weren't prepared to fight like she was, likely given their weapons with minimal coaching before they're thrown at her.
They're cannon fodder to the Omi clan, merely obstacles and numbers the crime syndicate can use to slow her down. The clan doesn't care about the lives of their lower ranking members. Only what their lives can do for them.
The hitwoman always had a soft spot for newbies, and this only furthered her distaste for the clan.
She stopped her musings upon reaching the fence that blocked the gap off. Yoru bent her knees and vaulted over the hedge before continuing toward a drainage pipe hanging off the side of the Nick stock.
The tube was about as thick as a medium-sized tree and ran parallel to the height of the four-story building. If it was a viable route to the rooftop, then teen would use that instead of using – and thus ruining – two knives to scale the complex.
The assassin placed her hand on the cylinder to check if the temperature was safe and fortunately, the steel tube was cool to the touch.
'Good,' Yoru thought in approval. 'I'll be able to climb it without burning my hands. Now, let's see how sturdy it was.'
The hitwoman then turned her hand over and knocked on the water transporting system.
*Thunk* *Thunk* *Thunk*
Yoru hummed at the resulting noise and then pulled on the steel cylinder. It didn't budge, and the girl nodded, now confident the pipe was sturdy enough to support the combined weight of herself and her gear.
The teenager set her riot shield down and began undoing her black tie. She pulled the necktie out of her vest and tugged the strip of fabric by its knot. Once the ribbon came fully undone, she squatted down and looped the silk tie below the handlebars of her shield.
Afterward, Yoru hefted her escutcheon up and tied the two ends of her necktie around her upper torso, one end hung on her right shoulder and the other firmly fastened under her left armpit. Once the assassin was certain the knot wouldn't be undone, she wrapped her limbs around the metal tube and began climbing.
______________________________________________
Four minutes later
One street away from the St. Regis hotel
*DuDududuDuDu*
Akiko stopped in her tracks and looked down at her leg when her cell phone blared the banjo intro of her ringtone. The huntswoman reached into her pocket and pulled out the device, heaving a sigh once she saw the caller ID.
"Where is she?" The gruff voice of Shinji Omi — the patriarch of the Omi clan — demanded the moment the tracker accepted the call and pressed her phone to her ear.
"Somewhere around the rooftops." Akiko replied as she began to walk again. "I'm following her the best I could at street level, but she's already dodged all your men and is closing in on the hotel."
"And you didn't think to follow her up the building?" The mob boss crossly berated the bounty hunter.
'This guy...' It took every gram of self-control the former soldier had to squash down her urge to bite back with a quip.
"I don't have the upper body strength to climb a pipe with all my gear." Akiko decided to run with that instead of an insult.
"Hmm... I see." The Osakan crime lord remarked with a derisive hum. "Perhaps I should have pushed harder for my choice if you can't do something as simple as this."
The huntress bit her tongue – a habit she picked up in basic training – to stop herself from saying something rash. She knows she wasn't the old clan leader's first pick — that would be Lupus, an associate of hers — but his dismissive attitude almost made the woman wish the Angel was successful tonight.
Almost, but not quite. Akiko is a professional, and professionals have standards. Wishing for a client's demise — no matter how much of a dipstick they are — is a huge no-no in the trackers' guild.
'Besides, I've dealt with his types in the military.' The huntswoman reminded herself. 'People like him are everywhere in positions of power, and I'm lucky the other heads don't share his opinion.'
"I apologize." The tracker said, careful to make her voice seem as apologetic as possible. "Wick had chosen to not kill me, and I didn't want to risk it. If she changed her mind and killed me, the Omi clan would be left in the dark regarding her whereabouts. Please understand that that is why I didn't pursue her."
"Hmm. I see." Shinji remarked, and Akiko loosened her clamp on her tongue. "Well then, continue doing what you're hired to do and we will have no further problems. Happy hunting, tracker."
The crime lord hung up the call, and the scarf-wearing bounty hunter huffed in frustration. The Osakan yakuza boss represented almost everything she hated in a person.
From the way he dressed to the way he talked, Shinji is the picture of arrogance. And to hammer that nail further, his archaic views didn't endear him to her at all.
Furthermore, Shinji's callousness in sending his lowest ranking and youngest subordinates kindled a deep-seated disgust from within the former soldier. The bloodied bodies of those young men reminded the former soldier of her first and only taste of live combat in Iraq.
'But at least they all died quickly.' Akiko morbidly mused as she remembered the conditions of the corpses. 'Even though blowing up the cars' gas tanks would guarantee an easier fight, she purposefully avoided hitting any of them.'
Despite how bloody the aftermath of each breach is, none of the yakuza sported anything but lethal injuries. Even though she was hip firing and holding onto her light machine gun with only one hand, the teenager never hit anything other than chest and headshots. Her accuracy was almost inhuman, as expected of a former high-table operative.
'I guess she's called the Angel of Death for a reason.' The huntress continued her ruminations while she strolled past another barricade of low-raking Omi clansmen. 'Kindness is a rarity in the underworld, and quick deaths are her way of doing it.'
*Beeeeeep*
Akiko's thoughts were halted by the shrill blast of a car horn. Realizing that she'd walked all the way to the St. Regis, the bounty-hunter stopped in her tracks and quickly unlocked her phone.
Retriever: The Reaper has arrived at the palace.
She forwarded the message to Shinji and headed to a nearby bench. Her job is done, and there isn't anything more for her to do except wait until the teenager was either killed, or had killed everyone inside the hotel.
'A cup of coffee sounds nice right now.' The former soldier set down her backpack. 'You cannot go wrong with caffeine.'
______________________________________________
On the roof of a building
*Creak*
Yoru lifted the fire escape's trapdoor and firmly pressed down on its red release lever.* Its folded up ladder deployed and clattered as each rung fell into place.
The hitwoman then slowly squeezed herself into the opening. The steel ladder creaked, only barely able to support both the weight of the teen and her gear.
*Step* *Step* *Step* *Step*
'I was lucky this office was closed for renovations.' Yoru thought to herself while hopping off the escapeway. 'Otherwise, I don't think I could have left the roof without raising suspicion. The Continental's reputation could only go so far.'
The violet-eyed girl began walking to the hotel immediately after her feet touched the concrete sidewalk. From what she could see as she ran across the rooftops, the Omi clan had stationed many guards around the perimeter of the hotel. But for whatever reason, they neglected to make any of them patrol the streets around the establishment.
'I should be near the south wing of the building.' The teenager noted after stopping in front of a ramen store. She pressed her back against the noodle shop's brick wall and peeked around the corner.
The main bulk of patrolling yakuza were concentrated at the hotel's northern entrance – seeing as that's where the street she was on led to – and as a result, the hotel's south wing had been left particularly vulnerable.
Within the shadows, Yoru saw around six men and women patrolling the premises. This time, instead of SMGs and old semi-automatic firearms, they're armed with proper assault rifles . In addition, the guards also wore some proper Kevlar and were equipped with earpieces.
Unlike their colleagues on the road, the gangsters here could reasonably fight back and inform the rest of the clan of her location. Stealth and infiltration are her only options here.
'Dodging them would be tricky, but not impossible.' A plan started to formulate within the hitwoman's mind. 'The guards rotate every thirty seconds, and their patrol route stops in the hotel's parking lot. '
'The counter for the vietnamese restaurant and that vestibule should be good enough hiding places.' The girl ducked out of sight as a female guard walked too close for comfort. 'All I need to do is to get into the car park.'
When the yakuza turned around, Yoru silently scurried behind the crate-styled table in front of the eatery.
Feeling something was amiss, the gangsterette looked behind her. But seeing as the street was as empty and silent as ever, she quickly dismissed it as her paranoia going haywire.
*Step* *Step* *Step* *Step*
When the henchwoman advanced further away from the assassin, she nodded at two of her coworkers going to patrol the area she just left.
Using the fact that none of the guards were focused on her, Yoru quickly darted into the foyer of a hole-in-the-wall bar. The two gangsters continued on their way until a buzzing sound came from the leading man's earpiece.
"Clear," The first yakuza pressed a finger to his microphone after they both stopped. "Nothing so far."
The man's hand fell to his rifle and continued onward.
*Step* *Step* *Step*
As the two's footsteps came closer and closer, the assassin quickly realized how poor of a hiding place the vestibule was.
'If he walks a couple more steps, then he will see me.' Yoru thought to herself. 'I can't take him out because another one is following a short distance behind him.'
Yoru held her breath and her left hand fell to her SCAR PDW, and waited. Whether her cover gets blown or not all depends on how lucky she is.
*Step* *Step* *Step*
...
Fortunately, her luck held. The gangster turned around just before he could see her. He gave his co-worker a 'go ahead' nod, and trekked toward the north end of the St. Regis once the other man nodded back.
Yoru released her grip on her suppressed rifle and quietly unslung the gun from her shoulder.
That guard is going to be the last one for a while, and if he comes close enough to necessitate a silent elimination, then minimizing noise is a necessity. Angel of Death she may be, but she would run out of bullets before the Omi clan runs out of people to throw at her.
*Step* *Step*
The purple-haired teenager did the same with her shield, carefully loosening the knot tied around herself before softly setting the shield onto the ground.
*Step* *Step*
Yoru started walking, slowly so as not to make a decibel of noise. She couldn't take any chances now, not that she's so close to slipping inside unnoticed.
*Step* *Step*
The gangster walked in front of her, but he was looking toward his right, away from where the hitwoman was squatting.
Yoru shot up and grabbed him like a striking python. Her left hand flew over his mouth – and also pinched his nose shut – while her right pinned his assault rifle to his torso.
Before he could even react, the hitwoman yanked her arm diagonally upward. The henchman's upper spinal cord was cleanly severed as his neck was snapped in a hangman's crack.
*Crack*
"Sorry." Yoru mouthed as she watched the light slowly fade from the grunt's eyes.
Despite what the movies might portray, the vast majority of neck snaps are not lethal. For one to be lethal, it required the force of a car accident and the neck to be broken in a very specific way. But even then, the brain still needs several seconds to properly die.
The teenager removed her hand from the dead guard's mouth and carefully propped his body onto the wall. After making sure the carcass and rifle were secure, the assassin quickly fastened her shield onto her back and slung her PDW across her shoulder.
Yoru peeked outside the vestibule and when all she saw was a retreating guard with their back turned to her, the violet-eyed girl scurried toward the parking lot entrance and vaulted over the fence and bushes.
With no one being none the wiser, the hitwoman successfully infiltrated the first floor of the hotel.
______________________________________________
A few minutes later
7:11 PM
"Huahh..." Koichi let out a tired yawn while he patrolled around the ground floor with two of his friends.
"Okamoto, did you stay up playing video games again?" Kyou – the oldest of the trio at twenty-six – asked him, and Koichi could only nod in affirmation as his hand returned to his eleven and a half inch (29.21 cm) carbine. "Hahhh... You're going to regret not getting enough sleep one day."
"Oh, cut him some slack, Igarashi." His other companion, Shou, cut in. "The clan works us to the bone, and we barely get any free time to ourselves."
"It's paramount we stay alert at all times, especially when the Angel will strike tonight." Kyou retorted. "If the stories of her are true, then being vigilant will be the only thing that'll save us."
"If the stories are true, then we would be dead before we know it." Shou countered with a hint of annoyance. "She's only what? The daughter of the greatest assassin in modern history, one of the high table's best soldiers, and the record-holder for the most missions completed in a year? Yeah, keeping our eyes peeled will definitely help us with her."
"Kagawa-" The older gangster started to reply, but was cut off by his earpiece crackling to life. "Hold on."
"Present." Kyou pressed his pointer finger to his transceiver. "I am with two others right now. Yes sir, will do."
"Command is ordering us upstairs." The yakuza informed his two other colleagues.
"Alright. Come on, sleepyhead, time to go." Shou nodded in confirmation and poked Koichi on the forehead.
"I'm still awake, you know." Koichi groggily responded before he began walking, and his friend only laughed at his expense.
"If you can stay awake for roll call, we'll find a room for you to sleep in." Kyou promised their youngest co-worker. "With so many people up there, they won't even know you're gone."
"Oh my god, who are you and what did you do with Igarashi?" Shou asked in mock alarm.
*Click*
"Oh, shut it, Kagawa." Kyou said upon pressing the elevator's call button. "I'm self-aware enough to know that not everyone has my work ethic or schedule."
"Thanks, Igarashi." Koichi smiled and gratefully said to his colleague. "I really appreciate it."
*Ding*
The elevator announced its arrival with a chime, its thick steel doors slid open with a series of mechanical clicks a couple of seconds later. The henchmen all shuffled inside the lift and once everyone was in, Kyou pressed the button for the second floor.
*Click*
*Cl-Clank Clak*
The doors slid closed, and the elevator started ascending. Smooth jazz flowed out of the lift's speakers and Kyou's left hand returned to the hand guard of his carbine. The three henchmen patiently waited as the number representing the floors slowly turned from one to two.
*Gurgle*
Koichi's eyes widened when the sound of someone choking split through the low drone of the rising lift.
*Cla-cla-clack*
The yakuza turned round to see Shou bleeding from a slit neck and his rifle slipping from his grasp. Still wide-eyed, he wetly coughed and attempted to grasp at his wound moments before dying and hitting the floor.
Despite how short it lasted, the moment of silence before anyone reacted was deafening.
"Kagawa!" Kyou cried out when he finally realized that his friend was dead.
Koichi looked up, and his breath hitched at who he saw standing over his colleague's body.
She's here, the Angel of Death is here. Wearing a plate carrier that draped over her black Italian-style suit, the harbinger of their demise had somehow snuck into the elevator without anyone noticing her.
"TELL THEM SHE'S HERE!" Kyou shouted while the assassin flicked her wrist and flung off all the blood coating her pocket knife.
Whatever grogginess Koichi had beforehand evaporated in that instant, completely replaced by pure panic. He hurriedly pressed his radio's microphone button with his quivering hand.
"She's here!" Koichi panickedly shouted into his earpiece as Kyou raised his rifle.
"Who's here? Be more specific." The person on the other side demanded, uncaring of the yakuza's apparent agitation.
*Thud*
Koichi heard the thud of Kyou's body hitting the ground soon after. His adrenaline level and heart rate only rose when he realized that he's her next target.
"The Angel!" The yakuza fearfully shouted into his microphone. "The Angel is-"
He could not finish his sentence before the assassin appeared in front of him and drove her knife into his temple.
*Schlunk*
______________________________________________
*Thud*
The body of the gangster – Okamoto, Yoru believes his name was – hit the ground after she pulled out her switchblade. The yakuza's earpiece rolled out of his after his head impacted the floor, and faint panicked chatter could be heard from the device.
*Crunch*
"Hahhhh..." The hitwoman heaved a frustrated sigh as she crushed his radio beneath her boot. "Dammit."
She was supposed to kill them and sneak onto the second floor, using the element of surprise to knock off several Omi Clan lieutenants before anyone knew she's here.
The crescendoing saxophone solo is almost mocking, almost like the elevator was sarcastically saying: "You should've been able to kill them all before they alerted the entire clan. You're the best, are you not?"
The teen knew that it would be impossible to stay hidden forever, but she made a mistake when she instinctively went for the henchman who's about to shoot her first.
'But there's no use crying over spilled milk now.' Yoru thought to herself while drawing her shield off her back. 'They've probably already tracked his location, and there'll be a group of yakuza waiting for me the moment the elevator door opens.'
The girl squatted low and gently set her escutcheon onto the carpeted elevator floor. Her left hand trailed over and wrapped around her slung PDW's grip moments before the lift stilled. The hitwoman held her breath and braced herself.
*Ding*
The instant the doors slid open, a flood of bullets barreled into the lift.
*Ratatatatatatatata*
*PingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPing*
Some punched through the aluminum back wall, and others ricocheted off Yoru's shield. The assassin gritted her teeth and dug her shoes deeper into the carpet.
*Ratatatatatatatata*
*PingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPing*
As more bullets rebounded off her escutcheon, the girl peered through the shield's visor. There's a large group of henchmen firing at her, but they're all shooting simultaneously.
She couldn't do anything but attempt to weather the bombardment – the current volume of fire is keeping her pinned – but sooner or later, their magazines will run dry, and that's her chance to strike.
*Ratatatatatatatata*
*PingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPing*
*Click* *Click* *Click*
And she was proven right just a couple seconds later. As the last spent casings bounced off the carpeted floor, Yoru retaliated.
*Pew* *Pew* *Pew* *Pew* *Pew* *Pew* *Pew*
She whipped out her suppressed SBR and fired off seven rounds at the group of grunts. Each bullet found its home in one of the grunts' heads, and their heads harshly jerked back moments before collapsing like a stringless marionette.
*Click* *Cl-Clak*
While the hitwoman was shooting at his comrades, one of the henchmen slapped a new magazine into his rifle and racked its charging bolt. The hitwoman quickly retreated behind her shield before the man opened fire.
*Ratatatatatatatata*
*PingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPing*
"DON'T ALL SHOOT AT ONCE!" The gangster shouted over the sound of echoing gunfire. "SPREAD OUT YOUR FIRE AND KEEP HER PINNED DOWN! REINFORCEMENTS ARE COMING!"
As rounds pinged off her escutcheon once more, the teen quickly formulated a plan while she counted the number of grunts.
'There's at least another six of them in the hallway in front of me,' Yoru surmised as she surveyed the hallway. 'They're lined up in rows of three, and only half of them are firing at me now.'
'I can either try to weather them out and hope they'll run out of ammo before backup arrives,' The violet-eyed girl continued her thoughts as her hand released from her machine gun. 'Or, I could use the cramped space to my advantage. There's barely enough room for two people to walk, and they're packed like sardines.'
*Shhhhing*
The teenager unsheathed the O-tanto strapped to her lower back and held the twelve-inch blade in an ice pick grip. She's sacrificing reach in exchange for more power, but with how congested the hall is, reach doesn't really matter.
There's a saying in the Continental: 'Above seven paces, guns are faster than knives. Below seven paces, knives are faster than guns. At seven paces, it depends on who's better.'
Knives – not guns – are the equalizers in super close quarters. They're usually far more maneuverable, and much more dangerous to disarm than firearms.
When the volume of fire began to slightly wane, the Angel of Death made her move.
"Wait... what is she doing?" One of the henchmen called out in confusion as Yoru bolted out of the elevator. "Why is she charging at us!?"
Just as she had done to the gangsters on the streets, she charged at the squad of grunts. And just like their dead colleagues, the guards collectively panicked and opened fire, completely disregarding the system they'd established before.
*Ratatatatatatatata*
*PingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPingPing*
*Slam*
*Thump*
Yoru barreled into the yakuza in the middle and knocked him and his ally behind him to the ground.
The assassin then reared her arm back and stabbed her blade into the throat of the gangster to her left. With a harsh downward tug, she tore her blade out. Crimson blood splattered onto the carpeted floor and the nylon fibers soaked up the sanguine liquid.
*Squelch*
*Thud*
Now that her knife is free, the hitwoman spun it around and switched to a hammer grip. With the O-Tanto's tsuba resting against her knuckle, she thrust the knife into the henchwoman to her right.
*Squelch*
The Japanese dagger slid in between the woman's ribs and pierced into her heart. When Yoru yanked her knife out, she too lifelessly collapsed onto the ground.
*Thud*
As the men she previously knocked down began to get up, the teen stepped forward and slammed her shield into another Omi clansman.
*Crunch*
The sharp corner of the escutcheon crushed the yakuza's skull and instantly killed him. At the same time, she used her inertia to perform a half-spin. With her single-edged blade outstretched, the suit-wearing girl slit the throat of the gangster to her right.
By now, the two henchmen the Yoru previously floored have stood up and aimed their rifles at her.
*Shlunk*
Not wasting even a moment of time, she threw her O-Tanto into the head of the man furthest from her and grabbed the other clansman by his rifle's handguard.
*Ratatatatata*
*Tuktuktuktuktuktuk*
The carbine spat out a stream of bullets – which uselessly impacted the elevator's now-closed doors – and Yoru yanked the rifle out of the gangster's hands. The hitwoman threw the gun onto the ground and landed a roundhouse kick onto the man's knee.
*Crack*
"AHHHH!" A crunch ran out as the patella broke as the hitwoman's shins met the joint. The guard doubled over as his front leg could no longer support his weight.
The assassin then grabbed onto the fabric of his suit jacket. She pulled on the collar and completely threw him onto the ground.
*Thud*
The clansman fell onto the carpet facefirst. Before he could lift his face from the rough fuzz, Yoru raised her shield into the air and slammed it onto his neck. The eighty-four pound (38 kilo) polycarbonate slab snapped the yakuza's spine like it's a giant stick of chalk, and he passed away on the spot.
*Crunch*
The teenager hefted her escutcheon off the dead henchman and made her way toward the one she killed before him. The former high-table soldier knelt down and pulled her blade out of the dead man's head.
*Shlunk*
Yoru flicked the blood off the O-Tanto and sheathed the twelve-inch dagger. The knife slid into its scabbard with a hiss and sealed itself with a click.
The hitwoman continued down the hallway and rolled her shoulders. Her night is only beginning, and if her reception was any indication, this night will be one her hardest ones yet.
______________________________________________
A few minutes later
St Regis Sky Zen Garden
*Ratatatatatata*
*Click* *Fshoosh*
Yoshito Noda – the twelfth lieutenant of the Omi clan – placed a cigarette in between his lips and flicked open his lighter. A spark leapt from the spark wheel and a yellow flame erupted from the valve, lighting the end of his cancer stick.
*Click*
The yakuza officer closed his lighter and took a long drag. Nicotine flooded his system, but the chemical did nothing for him. He was going to die tonight, and no amount of smoking could change it.
"Phewww..."
The high-ranked mobster breathed out a cloud of tobacco smoke. The plume of fumes dissipated into the Osakan night air and disappeared before he took another drag. Yoshito looked at the pistol holstered on his thigh, a New Nambu M57A1 with an English walnut grip and an engraved slide.
His mind suggests he could try to fight back – maybe he'll get lucky and land a headshot, a stray thought described – but his heart told him otherwise. The old lieutenant was not a gunslinger, he would never be able to out shoot the Angel. Even if he had his firearm drawn and ready to shoot, he would be put down like a sick dog the moment he ran out of ammunition.
No, even though he was going to die tonight, he'll die with his dignity intact. The mobster preached the value of honor to his men, and he would be a lousy leader if he didn't follow his ideals to the very end.
*Ratatatatatata*
The muted sound of gunfire slowly subsided, the bursts of automatic fire became more and more infrequent. The men inside the hotel were slowly taken out one by one, forced to die to someone they had no chance of beating.
Yoshito took yet another drag of his cigarette, another lungful of smoke, another hit of nicotine. The muffled gunshots have fully subsided, and there's nothing but silence.
*Skrrr*
Yoshito plucked the cancer stick out of his mouth when the glass doors behind him slid open. He let his arm hang beside him, a thin stream of gray smoke floated from the burning end as specks of ash floated down into the gravel below him.
"Good evening, Angel of Death." The mafioso calmly greeted his reaper as she stepped outside, her boots clacking across the garden's marble walkway.
"Evening to you as well, twelfth lieutenant." The violet-eyed assassin politely greeted him behind her shield. "Where are your guards?"
The Omi clan had assigned each officer a security detail, but Yoshito had sent them home.
"Home." He replied, and the hitwoman tilted her head.
"Home." She repeated, almost incredulously, and the mobster nodded.
"They didn't want to be here," The mafioso elaborated as a gust of wind swirled around the two and scattered the plume of smoke emanating from Yoshito's cigarette. "So, I let them leave. There is no honor to be found fighting an unwinnable battle."
"Hmm. Honor." The Wick contemplatively said, almost like she's seeing how the word felt on her tongue. "Haven't heard that one in a while. Most yakuza don't bother with that when they're facing people who know what they really do."
"I've been with the Omi for two and a half decades." The lieutenant began, and Angel let him continue. "Honor doesn't exist within everyone, but I try my best to instill it in my own men. We're in a position of power the clan has never been in a long time. With that power, comes responsibility. The least we could do is not exploit the weak."
"But the rest of the Omi don't share your principles." The hitwoman pointed out, and Yoshito could only solemnly nod.
"I cannot deny that." The yakuza grimaced, a shade of regret tainting his voice
"Are you going to try to shoot me?" The Angel inquired after a few moments of silence, motioning toward the pistol strapped to his thigh.
"No." Yoshito denied with a head shake. "I'm not."
"So you're just going to accept death, just like that?" The assassin raised her eyebrows, and the older man nodded once more.
"There is nothing I could do about it right now." The officer honestly answered. "But I'll appreciate it if you could grant this old man one final chance to air out his regrets."
The former high-table operative looked toward the rifle she held in her left hand, and – much to his surprise – let it slip from her grasp.
"May I have a seat?" The Wick requested as she stepped up from behind her shield, letting the mafioso see her face unobscured by the escutcheon.
And at that moment, he realized how young the Angel of Death really was. She was no older than his goddaughter, yet she had likely killed more people than anyone in the building.
Yoshito nodded, and the hitwoman walked toward a nearby rock. Her footsteps transitioned from clacks to crunches when she stepped onto gravel.
"The Omi clan was originally a branch of the Otzoguchi, and the current patriarch was the nephew of Otzoguchi Jiro himself." The mobster began, and his reaper remained silent as she took a seat. "The Otzoguchi clan used to manage the Continental before the Shimazus took over in the 90s."
"Whoever controlled the Osaka Continental controlled Osaka itself, and the High Table wanted the Otzoguchi gone." The yakuza's tone changed, now more sorrowful as he remembered those who died that night. "They sent Shimazu Koji, Caine, and your father to do it."
"...Our head's entire family was slain that night." The lieutenant said after a shuddering breath. "And despite my best efforts, I have failed to steer him away from the path of vengeance. Our patriarch plotted throughout Shimazu senior's reign, secretly amassing manpower and weapons by any means necessary. To him, nothing was off the table when it came to revenge."
"Hahh... Far too many people have been caught up in our patriarch's path of fire." Yoshito lamented with a sigh, recalling Shinji's unbridled fury when he heard about what happened to the former Shimazu head and John Wick, about how high table politics robbed him of the revenge he thought he derserved. "I knew this day would come. Whether it's you or someone else, the Omi clan's days have been numbered for a long time now."
"My hands are not clean," The mobster stated, his voice colored with the regret of an old man. "My sloth had been responsible for just as much suffering as our leader's wrath and the other members' greed."
"I've decided long ago that I'll accept my death with open arms," The elderly man looked at Yoru with a remorseful look. "Though, I wished it wasn't somebody as young as you. You should be in school having fun with your friends, not out here in the world of grownups."
After that, the mafioso stopped talking. The hitwoman took it as him signaling he's done.
"Thank you, Angel of Death, for listening to the regrets of an old man." Yoshito said as the Wick stood up and walked over to where he was seated. "Thank you for allowing me to air out my guilt before you kill me, my shinigami."
"Please, call me Yoru." Yoru simply responded, her every footstep compacting the stones below her. "Do you want to go by blade, or by bullet?"
"Yoru... Your name suits you." The yakuza lieutenant thoughtfully commented. "And please, use the Tanto. Guns are too messy."
*Shhhhing*
The teenager unsheathed the knife strapped to her lower back, and the mobster's eyes widened when he caught sight of the tsuba's patterning.
'Ah,' A tall wave of relief washed over Yoshino moments before the teenager plunged the O-Tanto into his spinal cord. 'The blade smith's daughter escaped, I'm glad.'
*Squelch*
______________________________________________
Forty minutes later
7:53 PM
"AHH-" The ninth lieutenant screamed and drew his pistol at Yoru. But unlike the panicking man, the hitwoman was the picture of calm. She casually swiveled her suppressed PDW from his dead guards and pulled the trigger.
*Pew*
*Thump*
The yakuza's head jerked back, and he promptly lifelessly collapsed onto the floor. After that, the violet-eyed girl unceremoniously lowered her SBR and strolled out of the suite.
The ninth lieutenant was the final member of the Omi Clan leadership caste stationed on the first floor of the St. Regis. Coincidentally, there's also an elevator near the dead mobster's hotel room.
'Well, going in there would be stupid.' Yoru thought when she stepped outside the broken-down door. 'They placed him here for a reason.'
'But,' The assassin continued in her mind. 'Since they're expecting me to use this elevator, I can use this against them.'
The teenager craned her neck and scanned around her. Her head tilted in a satisfied nod when she found exactly what she's looking for- or rather, the lack thereof.
'No cameras, perfect.' Yoru remarked to herself as she pressed the elevator's call button.
After a series of clanks and whirs, the steel doors opened. The hitwoman stepped inside, but she didn't let the elevator close behind her.
Instead, she held the door open button and propped her shield on the back wall. The purple-haired girl's plan was to use her escutcheon as a distraction, tricking the yakuza stationed upstairs into believing she's in the elevator when she was really elsewhere.
Since they're likely going to be firing at her from a dozen feet away, the gangsters are not going to notice the fact that she wasn't behind her shield. Or at least, not before it's too late.
It's risky, but if it all went according to plan, she would have an easier time clearing the second floor.
Yoru stepped back and only released her finger once she's outside the elevator. She made her way to a nearby staircase and readied her rifle. As the doors of the lift closed with another series of clanks, the Wick pushed open the door and bolted up the stairs.
*Ratatatatatatata*
*PingPingPingPingPingPingPingPing*
When she neared the second floor, a cacophony of gunfire and ricochets echoed through the closed sill. Despite the stairway's lack of cameras, it was devoid of people. Did the Omi seriously not think she would take the stairs?
Incompetency aside, the assassin continued jogging up the staircase and stopped before the door. Yoru put her hand around the door's handle and slowly turned the knob. The metal latch gradually retracted, and when the teenager felt no more resistance, she rammed the door open and opened fire.
*Pewewew* *Pewewew* *Pewewew* *Pewewew*
The hitwoman let off four three-round bursts, blind sighting the stationed guards and dropping eight of them straight off the bat.
"Shit!" One of them swore, "Divert your fire! Divert your fire!"
*Click*
Yoru flicked the fire selector of her SCAR PDW from burst fire to fully automatic with her thumb and yanked back the trigger. The SBR speedily spat out a steady stream of 5.56 and the suit-wearing teen simply swept her firearm across the men who're still standing.
*Pewewewewewewewewew*
The carbine fired off nine more shots, and the remaining yakuza all dropped dead.
'Tamiko has definitely over-gassed my gun.' The former high-table operative silently commented to herself. 'But with a barrel this short, I suppose it shouldn't affect bullet velocity. Although, it does fire faster than what I'm used to.'
*Clank*
While she was engulfed within her musings, the elevator door began to close its doors.
'Oh crap, my shield is still in there.' Yoru sheepishly realized and quickly stuck her hand in between the closing doors.
The elevator's sensors detected her appendage, and its quarter-ton (226.8 Kilo) doors retracted before they crushed every bone in her palm.*2
The teenager quickly entered the lift and hauled her shield out of the elevator. She abashedly huffed at her moment of airheadedness after strapping her escutcheon to her arm.
She stepped out of the dumbwaiter and began rummaging through the dead clansmen for spare ammunition. Luckily, their carbines are AR-15 pattern rifles so their magazines are compatible with her SCAR PDW.
The hardest part of clearing is now over. All the assassin had to do now is to repeat what she's done on the first.
______________________________________________
Thirty-six minutes later
8:29 PM
'I'm almost at the end of the hall.' Yoru thought to herself while stepping over a dead guard. 'The fourth lieutenant should be in one of these rooms.'
The hitwoman had proceeded through the second floor much like she did the first, slowly moving through the halls and checking every room for the officers. Since all of the doors were locked, she had to use her shield as a battering ram to break the locks.
What she's doing was basic room clearing and urban warfare, something she mastered when she still worked for the Ruska Roma. However, unlike the people the assassin once utilized these tactics against, the yakuza were nowhere near as competent.
*Slam*
Speaking of them, a hotel door suddenly burst open in front of the teenager.
Yoru immediately spread her feet across the carpeted floor and placed her non-dominant hand on her shield. The violet-eyed girl then whirled around on the balls of her feet and threw her shield at the gangsters.
*Crack* *Crash*
The polycarbonate slab spun through the air and caved in the chest of an unlucky yakuza. But even after crushing the man's ribs, the escutcheon didn't stop. Instead, it continued onward and tore the door off its hinges.
Not wasting even a moment, Yoru quickly shouldered her PDW.
*Pew* *Pewewew**Pewewew*
*Thud* *Thud**Thud*
She let off one shot and quickly followed up with two three-round-bursts. All three remaining grunts crumpled to the ground, dead before they could shoot at her.
The hitwoman lowered her SBR and stalked toward her shield, cautiously checking the doors she passed in case another group appeared to ambush her. Fortunately, it appears that the squad hiding in the hotel room was the last the second floor had to offer.
Yoru picked her shield up and stopped just off to the side of the closest door. Holding her escutcheon like a battering ram, she raised her arms and slammed the hefty slab into the wooden sill's hinge.
*Smash*
Much to her surprise, the door opened upon the first hit. However, before the girl could pull her shield back, something grabbed onto the shield and pulled her inside the room.
'Crap!' Yoru's eyes widened when a double-barreled 1911 filled her vision upon stumbling inside the suite.
The assassin vigorously threw herself onto the ground and ducked behind her shield just before two .45 ACP rounds slammed into the slab.
*BAng* *BAng* *BAng*
*Pewn* *Pewn* Pewn*
As the pairs of bullets bounced off her escutcheon, the hitwoman quickly kicked herself across the ground to put more distance between herself and the fifth lieutenant.
"Heya, Wick." Kento casually greeted Yoru, lowering his pistol as she climbed to her feet. "Didya have a nice night?"
"Evening to you as well, Semba." The teenager returned his greetings while her right hand reached for her holstered pistol. "How have you been doing?"
"Ahh, you know. I've been good." The yakuza candidly answered, his brows slightly furrowing when he heard the click of a handgun being unholstered. "And, come on, you know there's no need for that."
"You dragged me into the room and shot at me." The violet-haired girl mirthlessly pointed out and let her gun-toting limb dangle by her side. "I think there is plenty of justification."
"True, true." The former boxer conceded while nodding. "But, do you really want the night to end like this?"
"End like what?" Yoru questioned, slightly tilting her head to the right.
"You seem unfulfilled." Kento replied, and the assassin furrowed her brows. "Like even though you've already killed so many tonight, you still think you didn't do much at all."
"I'm not a psychopath that enjoys killing others." The hitwoman frankly countered, her annoyance lightly flaring at his attempted read of her. "It's almost insulting that you believe I like murder."
"Sorry 'bout that." The mobster apologized almost sheepishly. "But you can't say that you don't enjoy a good fight every now and then, yeah? The adrenaline, the pain, and the uncertainty all blend into an explosive cocktail people like us can't help but chase after."
The room's other occupant stayed silent, and the fifth lieutenant took this as a sign to continue.
"Hahh... Wick, look." Kento's voice took on a more serious tone after he heaved a deep breath. "We could just shoot at each other until one of us hits a lucky shot, but that's not how I want to go. And I'm sure that's not how you wanted to go either."
"I'm sure you've noticed that my room is quite empty, yeah?" The yakuza continued, his left arm gesturing to the space around him. "No closets, no chairs, no desks; hell, even the bed is gone. A perfect ring for two fighters to go at it."
"You want me to fight you hand to hand." Yoru acknowledged, and the former boxer nodded.
"That's right, Wick." Kento confirmed with a nod. "You and me, no guns, no knives, no bullshit. Just throwing hands with no distractions."
"What makes you think I'll accept it?" The violet-haired teenager inquired, and to that, the mafioso smiled.
"You wouldn't deny the last wish of a dead man standing, would you?" The retired ring-fighter asked, his tone becoming a few levels softer than what most expected to hear from a hardened criminal.
"... Clear your gun." The former high-table operative ordered after a poignant pause, "Then we can talk."
"Will do." A smile split across Kento's face before his pistol's double magazine dropped onto the floor.
*Cl-Clack*
The ex-champion then pulled his handgun's steel slide back, ejecting the two chambered rounds.
"There you go, gun's empty." The fifth lieutenant announced, holding his AF2011 by its trigger-guard. "Now, your end of the bargain."
*Click*
Yoru wordlessly flicked on her Glock's safety before holstering it. After standing up from behind her hefty riot shield, her left hand lifted the sling of her PDW off her shoulder.
*Cl-Cla-Clack*
Upon letting the rifle clatter to the carpet, she unclipped her pistol's holster from her belt and allowed it to fall onto the floor as well.
"Your vest, Wick." Kento motioned to her plate carrier.
"I'm getting to it." The hitwoman mirthlessly replied as her hand lifted her ballistic armor's magazine pouch.
*Schirtch*
The teenager pulled apart the Velcro strap that held the plate carrier to her chest. When the two halves of her ballistic vest came loose, she lifted the flak over her head and dumped it next to her SBR and pistol. Since her O-Tanto was connected to her vest, it too fell beside her firearms.
"How do you want to do this?" The assassin asked after she pulled her shield over her gear.
*Thu-Thunk*
"Until KO." The former boxer answered as he dropped his double-barreled pistol on the floor with an authoritative thud. "Or when one of us can't fight anymore."
"Sounds good to me." Yoru stood up and rolled all four of her limbs to warm up.
Kento did the same for his arms and after a couple of seconds, the two fighters got into their respective stances.
The yakuza curled his hands into fists and brought his right arm to chin level. He let his left arm hang horizontally just below his rib cage. Shortly afterward, he spread apart and rotated his feet. The mafioso's left foot ran parallel to his body, while his right foot was positioned perpendicularly.
The hitwoman's legs were spread apart in a similar stance, but her arms were a different story. Instead of being balled into fists, her hands were open and rather than being held close to her torso, her arms were extended outward at chest level.
For a few moments, neither of them moved. In lieu of attacking, the two combatants heavily analyzed each other.
'Kento Semba, former light heavyweight champion.' Yoru thought to herself as she examined her opponent's stance. 'He weighs 172 pounds (78 kg) and stands at an even six feet (183 cm) tall. Back when he was boxing, he was known for his heavy punches, fast recovery, and seemingly limitless endurance. As a result, most of his matches would either end in the first few rounds or would drag on into the double digits.'
The assassin began stepping to the side, and the mobster responded in kind.
'Due to his unique combination of talents, he's a boxer puncher.' The girl continued contemplating as they circled each other. 'His preferred style perfectly leverages his weight and a reach advantage against me. There isn't an obvious weakness for me to exploit, but that's only if I use boxing against him.'
Suddenly, Kento stopped circling and began to close the distance between them. Yoru's eyes narrowed, and she did the same.
The two fighters stepped toward each other before stopping the moment they were just a few steps away from one another.
For a few seconds, neither combatant moved. There's tension, like the eye of a hurricane or the static before lightning strikes, but neither the assassin nor the mafioso wanted to be the one who breaks it.
But – as all fights go – eventually, someone did.
*Whoosh*
Kento leaned forward and threw a jab straight toward Yoru's face.
Like a drop of morning dew dripping into a calm lake, the punch broke the precarious peace and sent ripples throughout the room. Although there was naught but silence between the two, the start of the fight was as loud as a large gong.
The hitwoman ducked underneath the brisk blow, and the yakuza expeditiously retracted his arm before she could do anything.
'Just as I thought.' The teen analyzed her opponent as he began bouncing on the balls of his feet. 'His height advantage makes punching me awkward for him. He's used to fighting opponents his size, so he had to adjust his strikes. I didn't even have to duck that low to avoid the punch.'
*Whoosh*
Another lightning-fast jab, this time aimed a bit lower. Yoru weaved to the left and the punch struck air.
'He's testing me.' The assassin realized after the ex-boxer slid outside her range again. 'The quick jabs are to gauge my reflexes and help him adjust to my height. If I recall correctly, he has a habit of going all in for quick knockouts.'
*Whoosh*
Kento stepped forwards and threw yet another quick jab. The violet-eyed girl dodged the punch, but instead of retreating like he had done before, the Yakuza twisted his hips and launched an uppercut.
The hitwoman quickly shot her hands out and shoved the fist away from her head.
*Whoosh*
The punch sailed off target and the teenager curled her right hand into a fist. She wrapped her left hand around her right and she rammed her elbow into Kento's stomach after taking a step forward.
*Pow*
The hard bone impacted the former champion's soft organ like a meteor and knocked the breath out of the taller man.
To his credit, instead of pausing and allowing Yoru to land followup strikes, Kento instantly jumped out of her range right before she launched a left hook.
"Cough cough." The hitwoman stepped back and assumed her stance as the mafioso let out two wet coughs.
There was no point in pursuing him there. Even while stunned, the former boxer could've easily used his longer legs to slip outside her range and counterattack. The fight is still in its infancy, there's no need to be aggressive.
Kento shook his head and quickly got into his fighting stance. The teenager in front of him is no joke. Despite her age and small stature, she hits like a cement truck.
He's heard of giant killers during his tenure as a boxer, but this is his first time meeting one. The yakuza was used to facing opponents his size – that was the point of weight divisions after all – so there's a certain novelty to it, a certain challenge.
After recovering, the mobster slowly approached Yoru. The girl didn't move a muscle, her violet orbs were laser-focused on his body, searching for a twitch, a quick glance, or a small readjustment of his feet, anything that could clue her in to his next move.
Then Kento suddenly stopped in his tracks and his left hand ever-so slightly moved.
*Whoosh*
The mafioso threw a left hook to Yoru's temple, and the hitwoman instantly reacted. She parried the punch barreling toward her head, but the fifth lieutenant wasn't finished.
He pulled his extended hand back and launched a right uppercut toward her kidneys.
*Thuck*
The assassin quickly jerked her left elbow downward and blocked the strike. Yoru tensed her legs right before the ex-boxer's knuckles collided with the arm joint and launched a kick toward her opponent's knee.
But as her leg arced through the air, Kento swiveled his hips once more and hurled a left cross straight at her face.
'Crap, I misjudged!' The teen thought in alarm as she tried to bring up her arms and lean backward as fast as possible. 'I thought he was going to play it safe and fall back!'
*POW*
Though the purple-haired girl tried avoiding the punch the best she could, the mafioso's superior reach made the strike connect anyway.
"Augh!" Yoru grunted out, the force of the blow made her head spin and made her shins only glance off the other fighter's leg.
The Wick staggered backward and caught herself by a hair's width. But unfortunately, the former champion swiftly closed in on her.
*POW* *POW*
He rapidly delivered two heavy strikes in quick succession, the first dug into her kidney and the second slammed into her temple.
"Hurgh!" A wave of nausea washed over the assassin as the second blow further rattled her slightly concussed brain. But through the haze of dizziness, she was just able to make out the other fighter pulling his right hand back for a third punch.
Yoru tucked her head in and brought up her arms just in time to block the strike, preventing the blow from landing on her chin and knocking her out.
*Thuck*
"Tsk." Kento tsked as his fist bounced off Yoru's elbows once more, slightly annoyed that he didn't end the fight right then and there.
Even though his decisive punch was blocked, the mobster didn't let up. He had fought against turtling opponents before, and it's only a matter of time before their defenses break down.
*POW* *POW*
The Wick let out two more grunts after a fourth punch sank into her stomach and a fifth rammed into her ribs, likely fracturing bone.
*POW* *POW* *POW* *POW*
Four more blows connected to various parts of her arms and torso. The Wick gritted her teeth as each strike sent a new wave of pain crashing into her body. She had to do something fast, or else her body would collapse from the accumulated damage.
'His legs!' The teen realized shortly after a follow-up punch cracked another one of her ribs. 'He's so focused on battering me that he let his legs spread too wide.'
The hitwoman dragged her right foot back and the moment Kento reared his fist back for another punch, she slammed her shin into his vulnerable right knee.
*BAM*
The ex-boxer's eyes widened as his kneecap was violently torn out of place, forcing him onto one knee.
Yoru firmly planted her foot in front of herself and unfurled her right hand.
The Wick chopped his windpipe before slamming her hand's heel into his throat.
*Thwack* *Thwap*
Kento let out a choking sound and instinctively grabbed at his neck, but the assassin wasn't finished.
She swiftly grabbed onto the collar of his shirt with her right hand and pulled the larger man in, straight into a punch that's aimed for his solar plexus.
*POW*
Yoru reared her left hand back and launched another strike aimed at his chin. However, the yakuza was faster this time.
*POW*
Before the blow could land, the ex-champion rammed his fist into her stomach. The strike caused the teenager to hack up some spittle and stumble back a couple of steps.
Her opponent took the opportunity to get up and retreat. The second exchange of the fight had been completed, and both fighters came out of it worse for wear.
For Yoru, her head still spun a bit and all the hits to her upper body made every breath she took burn. She wasn't taken out of commission, but the damage was enough to hamper her fighting capabilities for the night.
For Kento, despite the fact that he suffered fewer direct hits than the assassin, he was just as if not even worse off. That leg kick coupled with the precise strikes to his delicate areas ensured the ex-boxer couldn't continue on for much longer.
They both needed this fight to end, and fast. But, only one of them is on a time limit, and it's not the hitwoman.
The assassin tucked her chin in and brought her hands closer to her face at eye level. She then straightened her back and brought her legs closer to each other, stopping when they're around shoulder-length apart. Finally, Yoru lifted her back heel off the ground and tensed her legs in anticipation for the fight-ending exchange.
Likewise, Kento also adopted a different stance. He squatted lower to the ground and, like his opponent, brought his arms closer to his head. The former champion pivoted his back foot to face the front and brought both feet closer together.
The two fighters stared each other down for a couple of moments before the yakuza bounded forwards like a charging rhino.
*Stomp* *Stomp*
'He knows that once his adrenaline runs out, he won't be able to use his left leg anymore.' Yoru analyzed while narrowing her eyes in preparation, laser focusing on her opponent. 'He'll try to knock me out as fast as he can. I'll keep him at bay with kicks, but if he ends up getting too close, I'll have to get him onto the ground.'
*Stomp* *Stomp*
*BAM*
The moment Kento stepped into her range, the hitwoman lifted her right leg and launched a kick at his forearm. The effect is the same as if she struck the gangster with a steel baseball bat.
Her shins snapped the forearm bone in half upon contact. No matter how much adrenaline was coursing through his veins, there was no way he could punch with that arm again.
*Stomp*
But the mafioso was not visibility affected from his broken limb and pushed onward. He took one more step and threw a punch toward the teenager's chin.
Yoru quickly parried the barreling fist and stomped her raised foot onto the floor. She prepared to ram her other knee into Kento's chest, but the fifth lieutenant caught her off guard with a headbutt.
*Crack*
The yakuza's skull crashed into the assassin's nose, and a crunch rang out when the cartilaginous organ broke.
"Ack!" The suit-wearing girl grunted as crimson blood freely flowed from her nostrils.
Yoru stumbled and Kento shoved her to the ground using a push kick.
*Thud*
The teen's back hit the carpeted floor, and blood suddenly flowed the other way. While she raised her head to prevent herself from drowning, the former champion quickly rushed to her supine form and raised his left foot.
*Thuck*
Just as he brought his foot down, Yoru crossed her legs and caught the yakuza's limb. Before he could pull his foot back, the hitwoman raised her hips and thrust her right foot straight into his balls.
*BAM*
"ARRGGH!" Kento gutturally yelped in pain as the girl brutally crushed his family jewels.
The mafioso hunched over, and Yoru wasted no time to capitalize on his state. She sat up, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and laid her left hand on his shoulder.
The teenager then twisted her body to her right and slammed the taller man on the floor.
*Thump*
Now that they're both on the ground, the hitwoman reached for her opponent's left leg. Still dazed from both the fall and recovering from the kick to his nuts, Kento couldn't stop the assassin from securing her hands around his left ankle.
Yoru pulled the ex-champion's foot to her chest and wrapped her legs around the base of the mobster's good leg. At the same time, the teenager hooked her right arm just below the former boxer's foot.
Kento's eyes widened the moment he realized what the girl was going to do, but it was too late.
*Crunch*
Upon placing her hand on the front of his trotter, Yoru sharply rotated her body, and broke it with a wet crunch.
"AGHHH!" The hitwoman retracted her feet and slid away from the screaming mafioso.
"Augh... FUCK!" Kento groaned out as he pulled his broken ankle closer to himself.
*Snrrrttt*
Yoru tilted her head up and blew out all the accumulated blood. The cruor splattered on the gray carpets and stained several sports a deep maroon.
*Crack*
"Can you continue?" The assassin asked after she pinched her nose and set her broken nose back into place.
"Does it look like I can?" The yakuza lieutenant candidly remarked as he nursed his bent foot with a pained expression. His adrenaline had run dry, and he's now feeling everything.
"So, that means I won?" Yoru inquired, and Kento nodded.
"Yeah..." The mobster confirmed as his lips thinned into a more serene smile. "That was a good fight. Thank you, Wick."
The former high-table operative wordlessly nodded before standing up.
"By blade, or by gun?" She asked the ex-champion. Kento furrowed his brows and thought for a couple of moments before answering.
"Just shoot me." The former boxer replied after he turned to face her. "At this point, it's the end that I deserve."
Yoru nodded and made her way toward where she placed her gear. The assassin squatted and pried her riot shield off her guns.
*Click*
"Do you have any last words?" The teenager inquired after pulling her handgun from its holster.
"Well... sorta." Kento morosely responded, a note of uncertainty staining his words. "If you're asking me if I had any regrets, then yeah. I have plenty of them."
"I'll give you a minute to air them out." Yoru informed the downed mafioso.
"Heh... are you this nice to every person you kill?" The yakuza facetiously questioned, only to receive an unamused glare as his only response. "Hah... Well, I would say my biggest one is getting into crime at all."
"That Shimazu chick, she gave you our files, right?" Kento asked, and the violet-haired teen nodded. "Then you must know that I had a wife and a kid."
"Tell me about them." Yoru asserted after noticing the ex-champion's expression became pained.
"My wife Kyoko and my son Yasuo were the best things that ever happened to me" Kento began, his aura turning wistful as he dove into his memories. "It was love at first sight and after I won my first championship, I proposed to her. We got married soon after and my son was born a year later."
"But then I won a match I shouldn't have, and everything went to shit." The fifth lieutenant's tone changed, now tainted with old anger and sadness. "Those bastards beat me half to death, and I couldn't box for months. My family's finances plunged into the red, so I got desperate."
"If I recall correctly, the Omi Clan patriarch approached you at a bar." Yoru interjected. Her tone wasn't accusatory, but rather disengaged, like she's just stating a known fact.
"Yeah, he did." Kento confirmed with a nod. "And I would be lying if I said I didn't regret not sticking to boxing. I loved boxing. I loved the bright lights, the roar of fans, the feeling of an intense fight. Boxing brought me moments and people I would treasure for the rest of my life."
"And what did you feel about crime?" The hitwoman inquired while slightly tilting her head.
"Crime brought me money, but has taken away so much more." The ex-boxer lamented. "Crime took away everything important to me and left me a shell of the man I once was."
"And is that all?" Yoru queried, and the lieutenant instantly understood what she meant.
The teenager is asking him if he's ready to be executed.
"Well, almost." Kento said as he looked up at the ceiling. "Do you think I'll be able to see my wife and son again after I die?"
The assassin sucked in a breath and pursed her lips. That question caught her off guard, but was also one she surprisingly had an answer for.
"Happy endings aren't meant for people like us." Yoru fatalistically told him. "Our way of life had all but guaranteed that. We've been to the wrong places, have committed too many wrongdoings, and just aren't the right people for it."
"But none of that matters if you love them as much as you say you do." The teenager continued while aiming her gun at the side of the former champion's head. "Then there is nothing that can stop you from seeing them again."
*Bang*
Before the fifth lieutenant could respond, the hitwoman squeezed the trigger of her Glock 45 and put a round of nine-millimeter into his head.
*Thump*
Kento's corpse stayed still for a few moments before promptly falling onto his side and spilling blood all over the ground.
Yoru impassively looked at the corpse for a few moments before lowering her pistol and walking toward the bathroom. It didn't matter whether or not the mafioso had understood her words. There are still more people she needs to kill tonight, and she couldn't afford to waste time.