The lower ring of Avionis was a dense, chaotic sprawl of concrete, neon, and industrial fumes. The narrow streets twisted unpredictably, flanked by steel-reinforced buildings, their windows flickering with neon advertisements in a mix of languages.
The smell of grilled meat from distant street vendors mingled with the acrid tang of machinery and oil. Raphael stepped lightly over a puddle reflecting the crimson-orange glow of the streetlights. The shadows seemed heavier here, more alive, crawling along the alleyways like creeping fingers.
At the center of a small square, a group waited five figures clad in matching black-and-red attire, each with a black dragon coiled along the back, a symbol etched into their armor with both elegance and menace. At the forefront stood Naoki Kurogami, tall, composed, the kind of presence that demanded both attention and respect. His dark brown eyes scanned Raphael with measured scrutiny.
Raphael’s hand hovered near the hilt of his blade, the tension in his muscles taut. “You’re Naoki?” he asked.
Naoki’s lips curved into a smirk. “Indeed. And if you’re expecting a fight, you’ll be disappointed. I know exactly what you’re capable of, Raphael. You’d wipe my students off the ground without breaking a sweat.”
Raphael raised an eyebrow. “Students?”
Naoki gestured toward the group behind him. “First time in Sierra Nexus. I brought them to see the capital and get a sense of the city. No tricks, no schemes. Just a tour.”
One of them. Bright, impossibly energetic stepped forward. She had bleached ash-blonde hair tipped in neon pink, styled in a messy half-up ponytail, and electric amber eyes that glowed faintly. Her black nails traced intricate dragon designs as she spoke, fumbling with her English.
“H-happy to seen you... Me Rika Kagetsu!”
Her pronunciation was jagged and hesitant. Raphael blinked, mildly amused.
A voice cut through the air, deep and amused.
“おい、それ英語じゃなくてもよかったのに。”
(English: “Hey, you didn’t have to butcher English like that.”)
Rika spun around, glaring at the speaker.
“リュウキ、あんた、何言ってるのよ！”
(English: “Ryuki, what are you saying!”)
The man, Ryuki Kazama crossed his arms, his blood-red eyes sharp, lips curved in a smug grin. “冗談だろ？面白かっただろ。”
(English: “Just joking, wasn’t it funny?”)
The argument escalated, words flying between them in rapid Japanese, each jab layered with humor and irritation.
Then a lighter, calmer voice interrupted, hitting them both gently on the back of the head.
“落ち着け、二人とも。少しは礼儀をわきまえろ。”
(English: “Calm down, both of you. Show some manners.”)
Naoki’s gaze followed the motion. “Ah, this is Kaito Sumeragi. My second. The voice of reason, when needed.”
He gestured to the remaining three figures: a lean, crimson-haired girl with a wild undercut. Ren Kurogane, silent and calculating; Kage Takahashi, towering and scarred, the embodiment of raw power and intimidation; and Kaito, now smirking at the chaos he quietly enjoyed.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Naoki’s smirk softened into a grin. “And yes, there’s one more… but he ran off somewhere. Who knows where. Anyway, we should go.”
Raphael’s brow furrowed. “Where?”
Naoki’s smile widened. “To a Korean barbecue restaurant. Trust me, you’ll like it.”
---
The restaurant was warm, filled with the sizzling aroma of grilling meat, the faint sweetness of marinades, and the low hum of chatter. Steam curled from tabletop grills like mist over an urban river, red and golden light reflecting off metal trays and glass panels.
Raphael and Naoki sat at a smaller table, while the other five were at a long communal table. Laughter and the clatter of utensils filled the air. Rika casually bit into a strip of grilled meat, chewing with a small satisfied hum, while Kage and Ryuki argued loudly over another piece of prime beef.
Ren, cool and unimpressed, snatched the piece from between them.
“ばかども。”
(English: “Idiots.”)
Ryuki and Kage froze, glaring. “おい、俺たちの肉を！”
(English: “Hey, that’s ours!”)
Ren shrugged, tossing it into her mouth. “仕方ないじゃん。お前らが注意してないんだろ。”
(English: “Not my problem. You weren’t paying attention.”)
Ryuki shot back, “アル中かよ！”
(English: “You’re drunk or something!”)
Ren rolled her eyes. “少なくともお前らよりはマシ。”
(English: “At least better than you two idiots.”)
Kaito chuckled quietly, sipping a drink as he watched them, enjoying the subtle chaos.
Raphael leaned back in his chair. “Naoki… what exactly do you want from me?”
Naoki smirked, leaning back as well, fingers steepled. “Your perception is too narrow. You think this is a social visit, don’t you?”
Raphael’s gaze sharpened. “Go on.”
Naoki’s expression shifted, serious and calculated. “There’s a drug circulating in my district. Street name: Oni Whisper. True name… Vempix.”
Raphael raised an eyebrow. “Vempix?”
“It’s an enhancer,” Naoki said, voice low, clipped. “For graces. Doubles the power. But there’s a cost.”
He listed the effects slowly: mild headaches, insomnia, heightened aggression, memory loss, and finally body corruption.
Raphael frowned. “Body corruption?”
Naoki’s dark eyes were sharp. “It mutates the user. Slowly, methodically. Into the same monstrosities that emerge from the rifts. This is not exaggeration. The next step after the exhibition games, I want your help identifying and eliminating those distributing it.”
Raphael’s jaw tightened. “And timing?”
Naoki leaned forward. “After the Exhibition Games. No reason to intervene now. Let the world settle a little.”
Raphael leaned back, eyes scanning him. “What about the other factions in your country? Your Neon Aetherial Pagoda Quarter?”
Naoki exhaled sharply, annoyed. “At the brink of collapse. The Yàng family is split. Two factions, two ideologies. The Yáng Baiyu Sect and the Yáng Xinqi Sect, civil war is likely to happen. My faction and the Koreans are backing one of the two. Zhenhai… he’d be disgusted if he saw this.”
Raphael nodded. “And the Koreans?”
“Stable,” Naoki said. “Barely felt a rift. Hoshidō Ryūgumi district sees minor gang skirmishes and… the drug. Otherwise calm.”
“And the Vietnamese?”
Naoki smirked. “Fine. The only noteworthy thing is Mai L? Han, famous idol, has a concert after the Exhibition Games.”
He stood abruptly. “That’s all you need to know, Raphael.”
Raphael’s lips pressed into a thin line as he observed the display of controlled chaos.
Naoki called his subordinates to stand. “Time to move.”
Kage lifted Ren. Passed out drunk from the table, carrying her with ease over his shoulders like a piece of luggage. The others followed, laughing, bantering quietly in Japanese.
---
They hadn’t walked far when a rift tore open several blocks away, the air snapping with energy. The smell of ozone and the unnatural growl of the riftspawn filled the street.
Naoki’s lips curled into a smirk. He turned to Raphael. “Since we’re attending the Exhibition Games, let me show you what my students are capable of.”
Without another word, Kage set Ren down. He unfurled a massive war axe, still wrapped in bandages. The metal gleamed ominously.
With a roar, Kage leapt into the air, bringing the weapon crashing down at a riftspawn’s head. The impact drove the axe halfway through the monster’s skull before a click resonated, and the head detonated in a wave of air, the force rippling across the street.
“やるじゃないか！”
(English: “Not bad!”)
Another riftspawn appeared, and a flying kunai streaked past, striking it in the eyes. Ren’s voice rang out, irritated.
She said in Japanese, “ばかヴァイキング！調子に乗るな！”
(English: “Reckless Viking! Don’t get cocky!”)
Kage called back, grinning: “お前もまっすぐ歩けないだろ、酔っ払い！”
(English: “You’re barely walking straight yourself, drunkard!”)
The two argued mid-combat, the banter sharp and fast as they dispatched riftspawn one after another. Ryuki and Rika moved fluidly around them, attacking in tandem, while Kaito watched the chaos unfold with quiet amusement.
For five minutes, the Black Dragon members tore through the monsters with merciless precision.
Naoki’s voice, calm now, broke through the cacophony.
“覚えてるか？俺たちが幼い頃、師匠に教わったこと。”
(English: “Remember the philosophy our master taught us as children?”)
Raphael’s eyes met his.
“Strike First. Strike Hard. No Mercy. Even if you no longer carry the bloodlust, you’re still a monster. Child of Bellum.”
Raphael’s lips tightened. “Bellum… The God of war”
Naoki nodded. “ Well then, Maker of Beasts. We shall meet again at the Exhibition Games. Kuro Ryū, will be there.”
Rika waved, her amber eyes sparkling. “さよなら、ラファエル。”
(English: “Goodbye, Raphael.”)
They walked down the street, moving with the confidence of predators, Kuro Ryū. The Black Dragons.
A few meters away, another figure joined them.
“遅れた。”
(English: “I’m late.”)
Naoki glanced. “Renji. Where have you been?”
“軽くスパーしてた。”
(English: “Had a light spar.”)
Rika tilted her head. “With…?”
“Elijah,” Renji replied, smirking.
Naoki’s gaze sharpened. “Was he strong?”
Renji nodded. “もちろん。”
(English: “Of course.”)
“And did you win?”
Renji’s smirk widened. “当然だ。”
(English: “Obviously.”)
---
Elijah lay sprawled across the floor of the ruined training room. His chest rose and fell rapidly, every breath burning. Dust coated the room; shattered panels and splintered wooden posts littered the space. His serpent staff rested a few feet away, bent and dented.
He stared at the ceiling, vision blurred, heart pounding.
I… lost?
[Chapter of End]
Rika Kagetsu design
Naoki Kurogami
Kage Takahashi
Ryuki Kazama
Kaito Sumeragi
Renji Takeda
