Chapter 42: Before the Storm

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Scene 1: Underground Bunker – Moments After Chapter 41 Ends

The darkness inside the bunker pulsed with a humid stillness. The only light came from an overhead lamp, flickering weakly like it might give out at any second. Shadows stretched across the faces of the five people inside.

Then a static crackle filled the air. The woman in red adjusted the device in her ear and turned, her crimson coat brushing the floor.

"Units 5 and 6—down. No heartbeat signals."

Her voice was calm, but her lips curved into a twisted smile.

She turned her gaze toward Kento, who leaned against the concrete wall, arms crossed, face unreadable.

She stepped forward, slow, deliberate.

"Your doing?"

Kento didn't respond. His silence was an answer in itself.

She didn't press. Instead, she asked, "Can you deal with Ritsuka Arami?"

Kento finally pushed himself off the wall, his shadow spilling across the bunker floor like ink.

"I'll see to it."

She smiled, but her eyes said: Make sure you do.

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Scene 2: October 3 – Friday Morning | Akira's Apartment

The apartment was quiet. Unnaturally quiet.

Akira stood in the kitchen, the half-empty kettle whistling a low sigh before he turned off the flame. He stared at it blankly, as though it held answers he didn't know he needed.

No music. No laughter. No Hinata.

Just silence.

He checked his phone.

Nothing. No messages. No missed calls.

Not that he expected any. There was no signal in her village. He'd told himself that. Over and over.

But he still hoped.

He placed the phone face-down on the counter and leaned on his palms.

Knock.

The sound sliced through the silence like a knife.

His head snapped up.

For a heartbeat, everything inside him screamed:

Hinata.

He rushed to the door, hand on the handle, breath caught in his throat.

But when he opened it…

No one.

Just a letter.

Folded. Plain white. No name.

Two words in black ink:

> "RUN. NOW."

His fingers trembled as he picked it up and unfolded it completely. On the back, scrawled in rushed, desperate handwriting:

> They're coming for you. Not cops. Not agents. Gold-rank mercs. Underground level. They've been paid to bring your head. – J.

John.

Akira exhaled through his nose. No fear—just fury.

Gold-rank mercs?

They were sending elites for him now?

He clenched the paper, crumpling it in his fist. His eyes narrowed.

"Gold rank…?" he whispered, almost amused. "Then I hope they're ready."

He walked into his room and pulled the dusty duffel bag from beneath his bed. Inside it was the gun he'd taken from the hitman he killed two weeks ago.

He checked the chamber. Full magazine. He slid in a silencer and locked the slide into place.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. The boy staring back looked… different.

Eyes darker. Shoulders heavier. Something in him had shifted.

"Come for me," he muttered. "Let's end this."

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Scene 3: Rooftop of Abandoned Hospital – Tsu

A crow cawed overhead as wind cut through the skeleton of the old hospital. On its cracked rooftop sat a woman draped in black.

Yoru.

Gold-rank assassin.

Her coat flowed like liquid darkness, rippling with each gust of wind. She sat with a half-assembled sniper rifle beside her, picking dirt from beneath her nails.

Her earpiece buzzed.

> "Target confirmed. Apartment 12-B. Name: Akira Toizawa. Age: 15. Suspected in Mizushima Massacre. Orders?"

She rolled her eyes.

Teenagers. Why was it always the teenagers causing the biggest messes?

She tapped the mic.

> "Moonlight, you ready?"

A lazy, teasing voice came through.

> "It's Bloody Moon, Mrs. Headache."

Yoru smirked.

> "You keep running your mouth like that, I might shoot you first."

> "Please. If anyone's dying first, it'll be the rookie."

She stood, stretching her arms above her head.

> "Akira Toizawa... enjoy the daylight. You won't see another sunrise."

She knelt beside her rifle and began assembling it with practiced hands.

> "We move at night."

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Scene 4: 3:00 PM – Tsu Police Station

John slammed his fist against the table.

"Still nothing?"

The screen in front of him flickered. Kento's last known coordinates were two days old. The trail had gone cold.

"Track him again," he barked. "Where the hell is that bastard?"

Behind him, a familiar voice chimed in.

"Isn't he your adopted son?"

John turned. Ritsuka Arami leaned casually against the wall, sipping coffee like she wasn't watching the whole department unravel.

He didn't answer. Just glared.

She chuckled. "Touchy today."

He looked back at the screen.

Ritsuka grabbed her coat and started walking out.

"I'm heading home. You should too. You look like crap."

He didn't respond.

She exited the station, stepping into the warm afternoon sun. Her police cruiser was already waiting.

She slid into the back seat and tapped the glass. "Let's go."

The driver nodded and pulled away from the station, merging into the quiet highway.

Fifteen minutes passed. Fields stretched out on both sides. The city faded behind them.

Then the car slowed. Stopped.

Ritsuka leaned forward. "Why are we stopping?"

The driver didn't answer.

Then he turned.

And smiled.

Kento.

"Your time's up," he said.

Before she could reach for her gun—

Bang.

The shot echoed across the empty fields.

Birds exploded into the sky in a violent storm of feathers.

Kento stepped out of the car, his shoes crunching gravel. He dragged the body into a ditch and tossed the weapon beside it.

No expression. Just execution.

He looked toward the forest beyond.

"To the bunker."

He walked into the trees, vanishing like a ghost.

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End of Chapter 42

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