Chapter 24

In the heart of Kurasuno's downtown area, Kaito stood in front of a small unassuming apartment building adjusting the mask over his face. His heart pounded in his chest, but he knew there was no turning back now. With a small camera attached to his chest, he intended to capture everything. He signalled to his team, who were similarly masked and ready to go.

The windows were blackened so no one could see in, and the paint was peeling off the walls. Kaito and his team moved silently through the shadows, he picked the lock on the door with practiced ease, and they slipped inside.

The stench of rot hit them immediately. The interior was dark and cluttered, with makeshift beds scattered around. Kaito's camera recorded everything as they moved through the rooms. They found teens huddled under thin blankets, their eyes hollow. Runaway teens had no where to go, gangs often took care of them in exchange for their services, their identity was often stolen and they were forced to remain under the thumb of whoever had captured them.

"Just stay calm," Kaito whispered, his voice soft and reassuring. "We're here to help you."

He filmed the living conditions, documenting the filth and squalor. The teens, wary at first, gradually began to trust him as he explained their intentions. They captured footage of the overcrowded rooms, the lack of basic amenities, and the overall neglect.

"Who the fuck are you!?" The matron of this particular house was a young woman, tattoos down her right arm in a pair of bunny slippers and a matching set of bunny pjs. She had short black hair and had a sleeping mask on her head. Having been woken up by the commotion she had come to see what this was about.

Kaito jumped at the voice and turned to quickly face the woman, momentarily distracted by the sheer size of her bust he did not realised when she had attacked him slamming him against the back wall. The teens screamed scampering away and Kaito's men jumped into action.

"What kind of fucking flies are these?" She muttered, she could hold her own well, her neck had the simple number - 32.

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In an undercover brothel. Bodies laid on the floor as customers and providers scattered in the chaos. Hiroshi who's fists were bloodied now flipped through the ledgers. He wiped the humidity off his face as h tossed the book to the his subordinate before picking another to flick through. The sounds of smashing and destruction came from the other rooms, he paid no attention to it trying to read the messy handwriting under the ominous red lighting. Someone ran into the office stepping over the unconscious bodies on the floor. "Boss! We have a problem!" The man screamed in desperation.

Suddenly, the sound of a revving engine filled the air, echoing ominously through the halls. Hiroshi's eyes widened as he recognized the sound-a chainsaw. HE paused as he listened, he could hear swearing and the sound of glass smashing. He looked at his subordinate and nodded to him to slip off with the ledgers. Hiroshi grabbed the spiked bat on the floor.

The walls seemed to vibrate with the roar of the chainsaw, and moments later, Number 20 appeared at the end of the hallway. His eyes gleamed with malice, and the chainsaw in his hands roared to life, the blade glinting menacingly in the dim light.

"You thought you could take me down?" Number 20 sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're out of your league kid." A fucking chainsaw, he learned a thing or two after fighting Lucas.

Hiroshi tightened his grip on his weapon, his mind racing. This was a whole new level of danger. "We're not backing down," he said, his voice steady, he couldn't back now now, he had a reputation to protect.

Number 20 laughed, the sound chilling. "You're about to find out what real fear feels like."

With a swift motion, he swung the chainsaw, the blade cutting through the air with a terrifying whine. Hiroshi barely had time to react, ducking just in time to avoid the deadly arc. The chainsaw embedded itself in the wall, sending splinters flying.

The fight became a chaotic melee, the confined space amplifying the danger.

Hiroshi didn't fight, he couldn't fight, he could only block with pieces of furniture and run. One of Hiroshi's men tried to flank Number 20, but the chainsaw roared to life, cutting through flesh and bone with horrifying ease. The man fell to the ground, screaming in agony. Hiroshi felt his heart lodge in his throat. But he quickly steeled his resolve, if he didn't get his shit together he would also die.

"Fall back!" Hiroshi shouted, realizing they needed to retreat and regroup. "We can't take him head-on!"

His team began to retreat, but the narrow corridors made it difficult. Number 20 advanced, the chainsaw tearing through anything in its path. Hiroshi tried to cover their retreat, but the chainsaw came dangerously close, forcing him to keep his distance.

"We need to move faster!" one of his men shouted, panic creeping into his voice.

Hiroshi glanced around, searching for an escape route. His eyes landed on a window at the end of the hallway. It was their only chance.

"Out the window!" Hiroshi commanded, directing his team towards their escape.

They moved quickly, smashing the window and helping each other through. The sound of the chainsaw grew louder, closer, as Number 20 closed in on them.

Hiroshi was the last to go, his heart pounding in his chest. As he climbed through the window, he felt a searing pain in his leg. He looked down to see the chainsaw had grazed him, blood flowing from the wound.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Hiroshi forced himself through the window and landed outside with a thud. His team quickly helped him to his feet, and they began to run, putting as much distance as possible between them and Number 20.

The sound of the chainsaw faded into the distance, but the fear it had instilled remained. They had barely escaped with their lives.

"We need to get out of here," Hiroshi said, his voice strained. "Go straight to Amaya's location!" He had been prepared to lose lives but right now, it was still jarring to him, his subordinate died In such a gruesome manner, but this was the path he had chosen.

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Nakamura Takashi [hp: 80/100]

Watanabe Hiroshi [hp: 44/100]

Aoki Kenji [hp: 91/100]

Kitagawa Riku [hp: 87/100]

Hashimoto Kaito [hp: 33/100]

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The sound of a beautiful voice humming alerted Amaya's group that they were not alone. Amaya grabbed her metal bat, expecting to see Number 20, but instead came face to face with a young woman with two space buns.

"Who are you?" Amaya asked, not wanting to get random people involved in this.

"Hm? You were messing with my lackey and you are asking who I am?" the woman said with a sweet laugh.

Amaya frowned. "Are you a number?"

"11," she said casually.

So there was someone above 20.

Amaya swung her bat up to her shoulder, tapping her shoulder a few times. "So what? You want to fight me?"

Number 11 smirked, her eyes glinting with malice. "So, you're the one causing all this trouble. Let's see if you can back up your reputation."

"Boss!" Kenji called out, alarmed. They were surrounded. Suddenly, dozens of flashing lights surrounded them, hundreds of men on motorbikes. Why didn't she hear them? It was like the bikes were silent or she was deaf.

"Focus on them, let me and 11 sort this out," Amaya decided. Kenji nodded, and their subordinates focused on fighting.

Amaya took a deep breath, her grip tightening on the baseball bat. She had not lost yet and she did not plan to. "Stop talking shit, just come at me."

The fight began with a flurry of movements. Number 11 was fast, her strikes deadly. Her fist landed on Amaya's right arm as she tried to block, and a loud crack could be heard as her arm shattered.

Amaya felt pain surge through her body. She wanted to scream but bit her tongue fiercely, the taste of iron soon filling her mouth. She grunted and shifted the bat to her left arm, glaring at the woman. What kind of beastly strength was that? There was no way she was human!

Before Amaya could recover, Number 11 had moved, delivering a sharp kick to Amaya's midsection, knocking the wind out of her. She staggered back, gasping for air. "Is that all you've got?" Number 11 taunted, her voice dripping with contempt.

Amaya gritted her teeth, pushing through the pain. She felt afraid. She expected to face humans, not monsters. Desperate, she brought out her gun from her inventory, wanting to end this fight immediately, but the gun was knocked out of her hand before she could even blink.

"Naughty kid, why would you bring out something so dangerous?" Number 11 taunted. Amaya could not move as the next attack wasn't a punch but a loud slap to her face, sending her flying to the flank. She was in so much pain she could not bring herself to move.

'Little prince! Healing potion!' She called out to her system desperately. Death had never felt so close before, and she was so scared. But she called out over and over, but there was no reply.

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Error

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Her interface flashed bright red in her face.

'Shit! No! Please! Little prince!' She called out again.

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Error

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Error

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Error

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Error

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Again and again, the bright red 'Error' appeared in her face.

"Are you trying to call your system?"

Number 11's words sent a chill down her spine. The older woman grabbed her hair, forcing her to face up to her bedazzled sunglasses. "You're trying to call it, right? You can't reach it, right?" she said, her smile growing larger and larger.

"Are you..." Amaya started, fearing she was right.

"A user? What do you think?"

Another system user. "Why..." Amaya croaked.

Number 11's head cocked to the side in amusement. "Well, you have a mission, right? I have mine, and unfortunately, you need to die right here. You can't live."

Number 11's other hand approached Amaya's face, and though Amaya couldn't see anything, she felt that once that hand touched her face, she would die.

"Goodnight, sweetie." Number 11's sickly sweet voice resounded.