Chapter 16: Unbreakable Vow

The moment the name left Saito's lips, something inside Taro snapped. His body tensed, his breath hitched, and a searing pain surged through his chest as if he had been stabbed.

"Hideo Nakamura..." Taro whispered, his voice filled with disbelief and raw hatred. But as the words settled in the air, the weight of them became suffocating.

Mia's reaction was immediate—her face paled, her pupils shrank, and fear gripped her entire body. "Taro, we need to stop this. Now. We have to run away before it's too late!" she pleaded, her voice shaking.

Taro turned to her, his fury momentarily replaced by confusion. "What's wrong with you all of a sudden?" he asked, his voice demanding an answer.

Mia's hands clenched into fists, her breathing uneven. "You don't understand, Taro… Hideo Nakamura isn't just some regular politician." She swallowed hard. "He's a major player—he's running for Prime Minister. Do you have any idea what that means?"

The words hit Taro like a punch to the gut. His mind raced. His anger turned cold, calculated. A future Prime Minister…

Suddenly, the thought of revenge didn't seem so simple anymore. Even if he annihilated the Viper Gang, would it change anything? Nakamura was beyond their world—he was untouchable. No matter how much blood Taro spilled in the underworld, the real monster sat comfortably above it all, shielded by power, wealth, and political influence.

For the first time, doubt crept into his heart.

He took a shaky breath, trying to clear his thoughts. His hands trembled slightly. Was this even possible? Was revenge even within reach anymore?

Mia saw the change in him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Taro… just let it go. Revenge will only destroy you."

Her voice was soft, almost pleading, but Taro barely heard her. His jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists. He walked out of the warehouse, stepping into the cold night air, inhaling deeply as if trying to cleanse himself of the chaos in his mind.

A minute passed. Then two.

When he returned, his face was calm—but his eyes burned with something terrifying.

Without a word, he picked up a knife.

Saito barely had time to react before a sharp pain tore through his leg. The blade sank deep, piercing muscle and bone.

"AAAAAGH!" Saito's screams filled the warehouse, echoing off the walls like a dying animal.

Taro twisted the knife slowly, watching as agony contorted Saito's face.

"Tell me everything you know about Hideo Nakamura." His voice was low, steady—but it carried a fury that burned hotter than fire.

Saito, panting and sweating, shook his head violently. "I-I don't know anything! I swear! I'm just a pawn! There are others—bigger people involved!"

Taro didn't blink. He pulled the knife out—only to stab it back in, this time into the other leg.

Saito's screams grew hoarse.

The torture continued.

Taro wasn't quick. He wasn't merciful. Every cut, every twist, every slice was precise and slow. Blood soaked the floor, pooling beneath Saito's trembling body. His screams eventually turned to weak, pitiful gasps as his body shut down from the pain.

Mia had turned away, unable to watch. But Taro didn't stop.

This wasn't just revenge. This was a message—to himself, to Nakamura, to the entire world.

It took hours.

By the time it was over, Saito's lifeless, mutilated body hung limply in the chair.

Taro exhaled, his hands dripping with blood. He stared at Saito's corpse for a long moment before finally stepping back.

Without a word, he walked toward the bathroom. The cold water washed away the blood, but it couldn't erase what he had done. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were hollow.

By the time he stepped out, he was composed again. Without looking at Mia, he grabbed his jacket and walked out of the warehouse.

Not a single trace of emotion on his face.

He had to be careful now. His actions could not be traced back to him.

****

By the time Taro arrived home, the weight of the night's events pressed heavily on him. But as he stepped inside, a small, familiar voice broke through his cold exterior.

"Onii-chan!"

He barely had time to react before his younger sister, Ana, ran up to him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

Taro's entire body stiffened.

Ana had been away at her middle school dorms, only returning during holidays. He hadn't seen her in a long time. And now, after all the bloodshed, all the darkness—she was standing there, smiling up at him, completely unaware of the monster her brother had become.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the icy mask on Taro's face melted.

He hugged her back.

For a brief moment, the warmth of family made him forget the nightmares lurking in his mind.

They sat together at the table, Ana excitedly chatting about school, her friends, and the things she had been doing. Taro listened, nodding along, forcing himself to engage. He couldn't let her see what was really going on.

But as the conversation shifted, Ana suddenly frowned.

"Big brother… you don't seem like yourself."

Taro forced a smile. "I'm fine."

Ana wasn't convinced. "Are you sure?"

Before she could push further, Taro changed the subject. "Do you miss Mom and Dad?"

Ana blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question.

A shadow passed over her face. "Of course, I do… I miss Mom's cooking, I miss Dad's jokes, I miss…"

Her voice cracked. Tears welled in her eyes.

Taro reached out and placed a hand on hers. "That's enough, Ana."

She bit her lip, nodding, trying to hold back the tears.

The silence stretched between them before Ana forced a smile and stood up. "I didn't make any food, so if you're hungry, go get something from across the street."

Taro chuckled, shaking his head. "That's cold, Ana."

She stuck her tongue out playfully before retreating to her room.

****

Later that night, Taro sat alone in his room. The house was quiet, Ana already fast asleep.

He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts racing.

Memories flooded his mind. His parents' deaths. The struggles that followed. The suffering. The pain.

He and Ana had been taken in by relatives after their parents' deaths, but they were never truly cared for. They had been a burden. A responsibility no one wanted.

Taro clenched his fists.

"Hideo Nakamura…"

This wasn't over.

Even if Nakamura was untouchable—even if he was powerful—Taro would find a way.

Even if it took years.

Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

He would get revenge.

No matter what.

To be continued…