Adachi Ward, Mastermae Town, Block Four.
Knock knock knock, knock knock.
After a knock in the three-long two-short rhythm, the apartment door silently opened. The person who knocked swiftly slipped inside, and the door closed just as quietly behind them, as if nothing had happened.
"Hase, have you gotten in touch with the others?"
The apartment was filled with smoke, the acrid stench of cigarettes and alcohol making the newcomer wrinkle his nose in distaste.
"Don't even mention it," came the gruff reply. "Kazuhara, you should cut back on the smokes."
Glancing at the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts on the table, 'Hase' took off his cap and pulled down his mask, frowning at the sight.
"Do you want to set off the fire alarm?"
"What does it matter? We're done for anyway. All of us."
Kazuhara, unshaven and bloodshot-eyed, collapsed back onto the sofa. It looked like he hadn't slept in days. And truthfully, since the sudden annihilation of their organization, none of the "Fang Group"'s surviving members had slept well.
They had tried everything in the meantime: reaching out to the upper echelons, attempting to flee Adachi Ward, and even reporting themselves to the police—but all attempts had hit a dead end.
That's right. They even went to surrender... and were thrown out of the station.
"This isn't normal. This is definitely not normal."
Kazuhara trembled, muttering to himself as he curled up on the sofa. The 200-pound man looked like a fragile schoolgirl.
"Either way, we have to find a way to survive."
Hase, who had gone out to buy food, sighed.
He still couldn't make sense of the situation: he had woken up to find their headquarters surrounded by a massive police force. Soon after, other members outside the main base became unreachable. Any attempt to contact upper ranks was met with dead silence or the call was abruptly cut.
It was as if the entire world had turned its back on them. The moment they tried to leave this street, fully armed police units would appear to block their path.
With no other options, they even attempted to surrender, but the result was bizarre.
The police had shouted at them to get lost,
Threatened to shoot them dead on the spot if they made another "false report."
And they weren't joking. Those cops actually drew their guns.
In Japan, where even firing a single shot required heaps of paperwork, the fact that the police brandished guns so casually was mind-boggling.
Unwilling to be gunned down on the spot, the two of them had no choice but to return to their rented apartment and wait helplessly for fate to decide.
"Damn it! What the hell is going on?!"
Kazuhara grabbed his head, overwhelmed. It felt like the entire world was hostile toward them.
"We were just bouncers for a hostess club, selling a bit of drugs on the side. Even if we got caught, it'd be ten years max! What the hell is this?!"
"How should I know?"
Hase sighed and slumped into the sofa too.
The police were acting too strangely. It was like they only wanted to keep them boxed in here. As if... waiting for something.
"Hey, Kazuhara. You think—"
Click.
?!
A crisp sound made Hase whip around.
Thud!
Kazuhara's neck had been twisted like a pretzel, his face now pointing backward. His heavy body collapsed to the floor.
Behind the sofa where Kazuhara had been sitting, a tall shadow stood.
He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt. His thick beard stretched to his cheeks, and with his burly frame, he resembled some half-evolved beast.
A monster!
Wait—could this be it?
Is this why the police had them trapped here?!
A cold, emotionless gaze fell on Hase, who had just jumped to his feet. In that moment, one thought flashed through his mind:
I'm going to die.
"S-Sir... Can I make a phone call?"
?
The man said nothing. He was unmoved.
So what if this guy called the cops? With his current strength, escaping through a sewer before they arrived would be easy.
Tokyo, home to more than 30 million people, sat atop a massive underground pipeline network that most people couldn't even imagine. To ordinary people, a pitch-black sewer was death. But to someone like Souta Kiryuu—now half-demon—it was a hunting ground.
"Hello, Kohei? It's Dad... I want to say something."
Under Souta Kiryuu's cold stare, the thug pulled out his phone and made the call.
"Take care of your mom. And... don't follow in my footsteps."
Shhk!
His claws sliced through the air.
A head flew up.
The body collapsed backward, and from the phone on the ground, the voice of a young man cried out, "Old man, what's wrong?!"
"Two."
That's enough.
Turning around, Souta Kiryuu leaped lightly and perched on the open window frame of the apartment. He scanned the city bathed in darkness. No police in sight. Good.
The next moment, he descended the wall of the apartment like gravity didn't exist—a movement that would make Newton roll in his grave.
Concentrating his demonic energy in his feet, he could walk anywhere he wanted.
Killing people now felt as natural as eating or drinking.
But he had barely walked far when his eyes sharpened under the hood.
"Circuit maintenance ahead."
"Please detour. Sorry for the inconvenience."
The manhole was open. Barriers were set up. A worker holding a glowing baton stepped forward, motioning for Souta to stop.
This?
This was supposed to be his "home route."
Now it was a construction site.
A quick glance showed two workers already down the sewer, clearly no room left.
Fine. Time to find another entrance.
"Mhm."
He nodded slightly at the worker. Without a word, the hulking man in the hoodie turned and left. The electric worker wiped a sweaty brow.
"Scary guy..."
Just standing near him made it hard to breathe.
"So tall and bulky, he must be a gym freak, right? Or maybe a boxer?"
Shaking his head, the worker returned to his post.
Only...
"HQ, there's nothing wrong with the circuit..."
"What? Stay there anyway?!"
Below the open manhole, the two confused workers exchanged glances.
Their supervisor barked back over the radio: "Cut the chatter. Keep checking!"
Left with no choice, the two men continued working in the stinking sewer.
Weird!
Damn.
Not long after, two policemen appeared in front of him.
Even in his half-transformed state—tall and burly, with dog hair forming a beard on his face—Souta Kiryuu still had the instinct to avoid them.
Not because he feared the cops themselves, but what they represented:
The nation.
Killing two cops would be easy. But that would summon the military. Then he'd have to flee for his life—if he could escape at all.
Even with his enhanced body, he wasn't bulletproof.
So he turned away.
"Hey, big guy. Wait!"
Maybe it was his size. Maybe the hooded look was too suspicious. But the two cops called out to him.
No time to think.
He picked up the pace.
"Stop!"
The cops shouted and chased after him. Pedestrians turned to watch this sudden chase.
One was clearly a sketchy-looking giant with his face hidden.
The other two were uniformed officers.
In Adachi Ward, scenes like this weren't exactly rare.
So the onlookers just pulled out their phones.
Trouble.
Sure, he could outrun the cops easily. But with all these cameras, he couldn't afford to move too fast or do anything flashy, or he'd end up as a national headline and have the army after him.
He needed a side alley.
His eyes scanned ahead. Still walking at a "normal" speed, Souta Kiryuu suddenly turned into a narrow alley.
"Suspect has entered alley. Requesting backup!"
"After him!"
The two officers followed and radioed for backup. Kiryuu frowned.
Since when did Adachi Ward have this many patrols?
Right. It was all because of him.
Realizing he was the reason for the increased patrols, Souta sighed.
He didn't want to die.
This power—this demonic strength, the ability to run on walls, escape anywhere—he was addicted.
If he could, he'd keep hunting down scum to prolong his life.
But that wasn't going to happen. The government would never let a killer roam free. Especially after he killed those American soldiers.
"Roger that. We're on our way."
"Senpai, is it this way?"
?!
Just as he was about to leave the alley, two more youthful voices came from the other side.
Police!
The sound of rushing footsteps and the scent hitting his nose made Souta's pupils narrow.
Snikt!
His claws extended.
"Huh?"
"Wha—Aaah!"
Thump thump!
Four officers collided in the middle of the alley.
"Oww, what the hell?!"
"That should be our question. Didn't you see a big guy come in here?!"
The patrol officers stood up, holding their noses and chests.
One of the newcomers snapped, "Big guy? You were the ones calling for backup, right?"
"Idiot, did you imagine it? There was no one! Want to check my body cam?"
"No way!"
"Maybe we were wrong, Yada..."
"Actually, I meant to say... maybe that guy never entered the alley."
A whole grown man can't just vanish, right?
But there was no one there.
Even the two chasing cops were confused.
A message from command came over their radios. With puzzled expressions, they all left the alley.
Above them, on the third floor, a curtain swayed lightly from an open window.