The thief froze, his limbs turning to stone as icy fear seeped into his bones. His eyes widened as he slowly turned, his body trembling like a man who knew death was staring right at him.
"Where do you think you're going?"
The boy's voice was cold and lethal, each word cutting through the thief's last threads of hope.
The poor man couldn't move an inch. His legs refused to obey. His eyes shook as the boy walked toward him with calm, steady steps. Yet to the thief, each step struck his chest like a hammer, heavier than the one before.
Once he stood before him, the boy's hand shot forward, his fingers clamping around the thief's neck with merciless strength. The thief's feet lifted off the ground, kicking helplessly as he thrashed in panic, his breath choking out little by little. The gray eyes before him held no mercy, cold as volcanic ash after it had consumed everything.
He flailed like a fish pulled from the sea, his desperate cries breaking into ragged pleas between strangled breaths:
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! Forgive me! I'll never do it again!"
But the boy's grip only tightened, his fingers digging into his skin like steel fangs. The streams of tears running down the thief's face stirred no pity.
The boy's free hand was empty. Flame flickered in his palm. He drew it back slowly, then slammed it across the thief's face. The strike cracked like thunder. A scream ripped through the room as the stench of burned flesh filled the air. A dark red scar formed on his cheek, the shape of a hand forever carved into his skin.
The thief collapsed onto his knees, clutching the scar that would forever mark the day he met this boy. The boy stepped back, the fire fading from his hand. His voice was flat, cutting, merciless:
"Get out… if you don't want more scars."
The order needed no repeating. The thief bolted toward the shattered window, screaming like a madman, stumbling so hard he nearly fell. He left the black bag and its stolen treasures behind, his life worth far more than them. His screams faded outside, leaving the boy standing still in the center of the room. He watched the fading trace of the intruder in silence, then drew a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly, as if nothing had happened at all.
As the smoke faded in the room…
The waves struck the sand in a gentle rhythm, sunlight glittering across their surface. In the distance, a flock of seagulls rose, filling the sky with white wings and cries carried by the wind.
Akio stood at the edge of the water, the tide brushing against his bare feet as his blue hair swayed with the sea breeze. He wore a simple shirt the same color as his hair and black pants held by a belt that carried two crossed swords, their steel flashing under the daylight. A large black backpack rested on his back, and on his face was a smile full of excitement and challenge, as if the ocean itself bore witness to a new chapter in his life.
He left the harbor behind and stepped into a small marketplace that began at the end of the shore. It was crowded with faces, scents, and sounds. Vendors shouted their offers from every corner, the smell of grilled fish mixed with spices, and colorful fabrics fluttered in the breeze.
At first, Akio walked hesitantly, but his eyes soon widened as if capturing an entirely new world. He stopped at a stone statue standing at the market's gate. It looked like an ancient samurai holding a rusted sword. Reaching out, he touched its cold surface, smiling in awe as he said—louder than he meant to:
"Wow… even the rocks here feel alive."
Some passersby stared at him strangely, others snickered. Akio didn't care. He continued to a stall selling decorated weapons. He picked up a small sword, running his fingers along it, and said with honest excitement:
"Look at this! Even if it's just for display… the carvings on the blade are finer than any real sword I've seen!"
The merchant's voice was serious:
"You've got a sharp eye, boy… this sword is special. I can't sell it cheap."
Akio checked his wallet, finding only a few coins, then looked up with an embarrassed smile:
"If I had more money… I'd buy it right away."
Then a savory smell caught his attention from a food stall nearby. He rushed toward it, his eyes sparkling at the sight of steaming cups of soup. He exclaimed without thinking:
"Oh my god! You cook food right on the beach?! This is the coolest thing I've ever seen in my life!"
The people around him laughed. Someone muttered:
"Clearly not from around here."
Akio turned to him with a wide grin, answering with complete sincerity:
"Yeah! I just arrived today… and Orakano Island is the greatest island in the world!"
A passerby smirked and whispered to his friend with mockery:
"Look at him… acting like some overexcited tourist. He'll lose his first coin before he finishes his stroll."
Akio walked on through the crowd until he reached deeper into the market, where the smell of grilled meat and sweets filled the air. He stopped at a vendor and bought some dango, biting into them eagerly, his bright smile never leaving his face.
Between bites, he turned to a stranger and asked loudly enough to rise over the market's noise:
"Hey! My name is Sakamoto Akio… I'm a samurai! Do you know where the annual selection for the Arkan Organization is held?"
The man stared at him in surprise. Others smirked or looked at him with disbelief at his bold declaration in the middle of the market. One shrugged and said flatly:
"You're asking about Arkan? Their place isn't a secret, but getting to them isn't child's play…"
Akio wiped the dango sauce from his mouth with his finger.
"Huh? Just tell me where. I came here to start my own journey!"
A short silence passed between the bystanders before a large young man burst into laughter, waving his skewer of meat:
"Your own journey? Ha! Everyone who says that either comes back broken… or doesn't come back at all!"
Whispers spread around him. Some muttered with mockery, others watched with curiosity. One vendor tilted his head left and said:
"There, at the big square near the largest stone statue… you'll find who you're looking for. But a word of advice—don't raise your voice like that again. Arkan don't like people bragging about them in public."
Akio smiled as if he hadn't heard the last part, waving his hand with excitement.
"Thank you! I'll prove to everyone that I'm the best!"
He dashed through the market, dango still in his hand, while the people behind him exchanged glances of ridicule and surprise.