Chapter 2: The Hunt Begins

The alley reeked of blood.

Bodies lay crumpled in the cold rain, their once-proud hero suits torn and drenched in crimson. Their deaths had been quick. A flash of steel. A blur of motion. They hadn't even realized they were already dead when they fell.

Dante stood amidst the carnage, his breath steady. The downpour soaked his coat, washing away the blood from his twin katanas. Raindrops mixed with the red stains on the pavement, creating a sickly, diluted stream that flowed toward the sewers.

He didn't bother wiping his blades.

They would be stained again soon.

A soft whimper broke the silence.

His sharp gaze shifted downward.

The boy was still there, curled up against the alley wall, shaking. His dark hair stuck to his forehead, his face pale from shock. He had seen everything—the speed, the precision, the way Dante had cut through those heroes like they were nothing.

Dante sheathed his katanas with a quiet click. He took a slow step toward the kid, who flinched as if expecting another death.

"You alive?" Dante asked, his voice low but clear.

The boy nodded weakly.

Dante crouched beside him, ignoring the blood pooling around his boots. "Name?"

The boy swallowed hard before answering, "R-Ren."

Dante tilted his head, studying him. Thin. Malnourished. Clothes barely holding together. But there was something in his eyes—something burning behind all the fear.

Anger.

Not just fear of the heroes. Hatred.

"They… they killed my parents," Ren muttered, fists clenching at his sides. His small frame trembled with emotion. "They said it was an accident, but they… they laughed." His voice cracked at the end, but the fire in his eyes didn't die.

Dante remained silent.

He had seen this too many times.

Families shattered. Lives destroyed. Heroes walking away without a care.

He reached out and ruffled Ren's messy black hair. The boy flinched but didn't pull away.

"You've got two choices," Dante said calmly.

Ren looked up, his wide eyes searching his face.

"You can run. Disappear into the slums. Hide for the rest of your life, hoping they don't find you." Dante's tone was quiet, steady. "Or… you can fight."

Ren's breath hitched.

A single word left his lips. "Fight."

Dante smirked.

"Good choice."

The sound of sirens filled the distance.

Dante rose to his feet, his fingers brushing over the hilts of his katanas. The Hero Association was quick. Faster than usual. Probably because he had taken out an entire squad this time.

No matter.

Let them come.

He turned his gaze back to Ren. "Stay close."

The boy nodded quickly, scrambling to his feet.

Dante stepped out of the alley and onto the empty street. The city lights flickered in the rain, casting long shadows against the wet asphalt.

Then—headlights.

A black armored van screeched to a stop at the intersection. The emblem of the Hero Association gleamed on its side.

Dante exhaled slowly.

The hunt was beginning.

The Association's Enforcers

The van doors burst open.

Four figures stepped out, dressed in black tactical gear. Unlike the flashy, caped heroes, these were the Association's enforcers—the real killers.

They didn't waste time on speeches. No grand declarations of justice.

They were here to erase a problem.

Dante smirked. "Efficient."

One of the enforcers, a man in a reinforced exosuit, lifted a high-tech gauntlet. A faint hum filled the air as the energy inside it charged.

"Dante Valen," the man said, voice distorted through a helmet. "Surrender."

Dante tilted his head. "You know my name?"

The enforcer didn't move. "You're a Level 5. You just killed a sanctioned hero team. That puts you on our priority list."

Dante chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "Priority, huh?"

The enforcer raised his arm. "This is your only warning."

Dante's smirk widened. "Oh, I like warnings."

He moved.

In an instant, his katanas were free, gleaming under the neon lights.

The first enforcer barely had time to react before steel sliced through his wrist. The energy gauntlet sparked wildly as it clattered to the ground, severed from its owner.

A gurgled scream.

Blood splattered across the pavement.

The others moved in unison, their training kicking in. One lunged with an electrified baton—too slow. Dante twisted around him, slicing upward. The baton-wielder gasped as his chest split open, blood gushing from the deep wound.

Two down.

The third enforcer fired a shot—a high-speed plasma round.

Dante tilted his head, the bullet grazing past his cheek, burning the skin.

Close.

Too close.

The fourth enforcer activated his ability—kinetic reinforcement. His body tensed, muscles thickening, eyes glowing faintly. He rushed forward with inhuman speed.

Dante sidestepped.

His katana lashed out.

A sharp metallic clang.

The enforcer blocked it with a reinforced forearm plate, countering with a brutal punch. Dante barely avoided it, feeling the wind rush past his face.

Fast. Strong.

But not fast enough.

Dante twisted his blade, redirecting the enforcer's momentum. Before the man could recover, the second katana found his throat.

A spray of crimson.

The last enforcer stood alone, gun trembling in his grip. His breath came in short, panicked gasps.

Dante wiped the blood off his cheek with the back of his hand. He took a slow step forward.

"W-Wait—"

The katana flashed.

Silence.

The enforcer's body crumpled.

Dante exhaled, rolling his neck. The street was quiet again, save for the soft pattering of rain.

Ren stood at the alley's edge, watching with wide, unblinking eyes.

Dante sheathed his blades.

"Come on, kid." He turned, stepping over the corpses as if they were nothing. "We're not done yet."

Ren hesitated, then followed.

This was only the beginning.

— To Be Continued in Chapter 3 —