The Birth of Justice

"What the hell were you two talking about for so long?!"

Mika's voice cuts through the air, dripping with curiosity. He and Zai approach, matching grins plastered across their faces.

Suzume groans, turning away. "Nothing. We're coming."

Mika and Zai flank me, throwing their arms over my shoulders like old friends. "Sooo," Mika starts, his grin widening, "were you two flirting or something?"

Zai nudges me. "Yeah, come on, spill it."

I roll my eyes. "You guys have the dumbest imagination."

Sarah steps in, crossing her arms. "Enough with the teasing. We'll be late if we don't get moving."

As we walk, I let my mind drift. It's time to find a proper target now that I fully understand my powers.

Classes pass in a blur. I spend the entire day gathering intel, scouring criminal networks, piecing together information from news reports and online forums. And then I find them.

The Red Eagle Syndicate.

A nationwide drug cartel, flooding the streets with poison. Their leader? Francis Kuto.

Not for long.

School finally ends, and I waste no time. As soon as I get home, I throw on my hoodie and slip out the window.

The city's underbelly reeks of filth—both metaphorically and literally. Crumbling buildings, flickering streetlights, trash-strewn alleys. This place will never change unless someone forces it to.

And that someone is me.

I step into a dimly lit alleyway, spotting two low-level dealers loitering near a stack of crates. Perfect.

I stroll up to them, hands in my pockets. "Yo. I'm here to rob you."

They both freeze before bursting into laughter.

"Rob who?" one of them scoffs. "You lost your damn mind?"

Hook, line, and sinker.

They rush me, just as expected. I step forward, slapping both of their foreheads in one swift motion.

DELETE. PLANT.

Their expressions shift instantly. In their minds, I'm no longer a random kid.

I'm their second-in-command.

One of them stammers, his posture stiffening. "B-Boss! You should've told us you were coming!"

I smirk. Good.

"Where's the spot?" I ask, keeping my voice casual.

The other guy hesitates. "Uh… shouldn't you already know that, Boss?"

I narrow my eyes, voice dropping to a whisper. "There's a traitor. We're testing everyone. Are you the traitor?"

His face drains of color. "N-No way, Boss! I swear I'm loyal!"

"Then take me there."

The two nod frantically, leading me through the maze of alleyways. My heart pounds as we near the hideout. This is the real test. The other members will recognize me as a stranger. If they hesitate, my cover is blown.

I need insurance.

We stop just outside the warehouse, and I turn to them. "Come here for a second."

They obey without question.

SLAP. PLANT.

Their eyes glaze over for a moment before filling with unshakable rage.

"The hideout… It's full of traitors!" one of them snarls.

The other clenches his fists, trembling with fury. "We'll kill every last one of those snakes!"

I chuckle under my breath. How predictable.

We push open the doors. Inside, a dozen gangsters huddle around a long table, stacks of cash and plastic-wrapped powder in front of them.

Their heads snap toward us. "What the hell? Who are y—"

BANG!

Gunfire erupts before they can finish their sentence. My pawns unleash hell, mowing down their own crew with blind fury.

I step back, hood low, watching the massacre unfold.

Twelve bodies hit the floor.

A deep silence follows, broken only by the ragged breaths of my puppets.

Then, one of them turns to me, panting. "B-Boss… what now?"

I step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. One final touch.

SLAP. PLANT.

His eyes go wide. A manic grin spreads across his face.

"The whole place…" he whispers, voice trembling with excitement. "We have to burn it down… with us inside."

His partner nods, completely enthralled. "For justice."

They grab cans of gasoline, soaking the warehouse in seconds.

Before stepping out, I dip my fingers in the blood of one of the fallen and scrawl a single word on the wall.

Justic3.

By the time the first flames rise, I'm already gone.

I climb back into my bedroom window, ripping off my hoodie and tossing it aside. My heart is still racing.

I flick on the TV, sinking onto my bed. It won't take long.

Sure enough, an emergency broadcast interrupts the regular programming.

"Breaking news: A massacre in an abandoned warehouse has left twelve suspected members of the Red Eagle Syndicate dead. Witnesses claim two men set the building ablaze before taking their own lives. The word 'Justic3' was found written in blood at the scene. Police suspect a link to the recent string of unexplained suicides—"

I switch off the TV, a satisfied grin playing at my lips.

Francis Kuto… you're next.

A knock at my door snaps me out of it.

"Big brother?" Sako's voice is soft. "Suzume said you were feeling down… she told me to take extra good care of you."

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. Damn it, Suzume.

I force a smile before opening the door. "I'm fine, Sako. Really. In fact, I've never felt better."

He tilts his head but nods. "Okay… I'll be downstairs if you need me."

As he leaves, I lean against the doorframe, exhaling slowly.

Suzume is getting too close.

If she keeps pushing, if she keeps digging—

…I don't want to have to kill her.

I glance at my reflection in the dark window. My expression is unreadable.

I tell myself it's just a thought.

I tell myself I won't do it.

But the truth is…

I don't know.