A GAME ALREADY WON

Ash Shirogiri stood tall against the railing of a high-rise balcony, eyes scanning the neon-lit city sprawled below. The streets were alive with activity, each glow a silent testament to the world that turned below, unaware of the storm that was about to break. Ash exhaled slowly, the cool night air mingling with the tension that clung to him. Kenshiko's voice echoed in his earpiece, pulling him from his thoughts.

"The syndicates are mobilizing. They're coordinating their retaliation," she reported, her tone devoid of panic—just pure data and precision.

A smirk tugged at Ash's lips, the corners of his mouth curling with quiet satisfaction. "Good. Let them play their hand."

Kaito stepped out onto the balcony beside him, his hands casually tucked into his coat pockets, his expression unreadable. "You expected this," he observed, his voice a low hum of curiosity.

Ash turned to face him, his eyes sharp as steel. "Of course. Power shifts breed fear. And fear makes people predictable. They're already too late."

He leaned forward, his gaze locked onto the horizon, seeing beyond the city lights, into the future. "They'll try to outsmart us, disrupt our supply chains, pit my own people against me. But it won't matter. I already know their every move."

A sudden red alert flashed across Kenshiko's display, her voice urgent. "Hostile forces inbound on multiple fronts. Syndicate enforcers are attacking our territories."

Ash's smirk deepened. "Then let's show them exactly why challenging the Shirogiri Clan is a fatal mistake."

BATTLE FOR THE UNDERWORLD

The first strike hit with ferocity at the docks. Ryoji Tetsujin's men, eager to reclaim what they saw as theirs, launched a full-scale assault on Shirogiri-controlled shipping yards. They came armed to the teeth—military-grade weapons, exo-suits, the works—believing sheer force would overwhelm their rivals.

But they were walking into a trap.

The Oni-Brigade was already waiting.

Viper was a blur of movement, his neural implants syncing with the battlefield, giving him an edge that allowed him to navigate the chaos with terrifying precision. He sliced through enemy soldiers like a shadow, his knives flashing in the dim light as he struck for the joints of their exo-suits. They never saw him coming. The screams of the dying echoed through the yard, the metal walls reverberating with the sound of the battle's first casualties.

Drake, on the other hand, didn't need subtlety. He met the full force of the attack head-on, charging into the storm. Explosions rocked the docks, but it only made him fight harder. His cybernetic fists tore through men, reducing them to broken heaps of flesh and metal. Bullets glanced off his reinforced body, his combat algorithms working in overdrive to predict every move before it was made.

"Hold the line!" a Tetsujin officer barked, but the order came too late. Ghost's blade was already at his throat, silencing him forever.

Elsewhere, in the depths of the city, the Fukuoka Syndicate launched their own strike at the Shirogiri-controlled underground fight pits, thinking they could take back what was theirs. They were wrong.

Ember led her squad with chilling efficiency, her cybernetic enhancements feeding her real-time data as she moved with deadly intent. "Suppressive fire on the upper balcony. Eliminate their escape routes. No survivors."

The gunfire erupted, and the fight pit transformed into a warzone. The Fukuoka enforcers, once so confident in their numbers, fell one by one, their bodies littering the blood-splattered ground. Ember's eyes glowed with the reflected light of the chaos, cold and calculating.

In a hidden control room, Ash stood before a series of monitors, watching the unfolding carnage through live feeds. He hadn't missed a move, not a single misstep. Every strike, every counterattack, was part of the plan. The syndicates' desperate measures had been anticipated—every single one of them.

Kaito, watching over his shoulder, exhaled slowly, clearly impressed. "They really thought they could challenge you."

Ash turned away from the screen, his face a mask of calm determination. "They did. And now, we remind them who holds the true power in this underworld."

The game was far from over, but Ash had already claimed the first victory. "Now we strike back. Not just in defense. We take everything. Every scrap. Every asset. The war isn't just about survival—it's about dominance."

THE DOMINANCE OF SHIROGIRI

Kenshiko's voice filled the air as she projected a holographic map of the underworld. Red zones, once contested, now lay completely under Shirogiri's control. "Current status: The Shirogiri Clan controls 75% of the underworld's assets, including shipping routes, arms smuggling operations, cybernetic enhancements black markets, and high-profile intelligence networks."

Kaito's lips curled into a grin. "Seventy-five percent? We practically own the city now."

Ash's expression remained cold, his eyes unwavering as they surveyed the map. "Not enough," he muttered. "We don't just take. We dominate. There will be nothing left of our enemies when we're done."

Kenshiko's glowing digital eyes flickered. "Shall I initiate the next phase?"

Ash's lips curled into a smile, predatory and assured. "Do it."

The underworld was already theirs, and soon, no one—no one at all—would dare challenge the Shirogiri name.