The eastern sector of Sakurahara Village was a place whispered about by outsiders but rarely visited. Its narrow streets twisted between rows of dilapidated houses; some structures leaned at precarious angles, their wooden beams warped and stained by years of rain and neglect. Many were partially destroyed, their roofs sagging or missing tiles, yet still habitable, evidence of stubborn villagers clinging to their homes despite the danger. The sector exuded a warning to all who dared trespass: the air itself seemed heavy with desolation, a silent threat.
The smell of rot and smoke lingered faintly in the wind, mingling with the dust that rose whenever a footstep disturbed the dirt roads. Shadows clung to corners where the sun struggled to reach, and ragged banners fluttered from rooftops as if to remind any passerby that this was no ordinary part of Sakurahara. Here, criminals had long taken refuge—bands of men and women hardened by a life of thievery, violence, and lawlessness.
"Hey!" A gruff voice cut through the stillness. A bald man, his head and face marred by scars that crisscrossed like a map of past battles, strode down the street. His faded yellow samui hung loosely on his frame, patched in several places from countless scrapes and confrontations. "Has anyone seen Jigen and the idiots that followed him?" His voice was harsh, laced with frustration, and he scanned the surrounding group of five men leaning casually against the walls, tossing small knives like darts.
No one answered.
"Huh? Why are you looking for Jigen?" one of the men finally asked, draping an arm around the bald man's shoulders in a mocking gesture.
"Get your filthy hands off me!" The bald man's face bulged with anger, the veins at his temples throbbing with indignation.
"Kekeke… calm down, it's just a joke," the other man said, a sinister smile curling across his lips. "Now, tell me why you're looking for them."
The bald man's hands tightened into fists. "We had a bet. The loser had to go to the village to fetch food. He hasn't returned, and my food isn't here!" His voice rose with frustration, echoing down the empty street.
"Huh… food is coming?" drawled another bandit, his black hair faded and unkept, lazily dragging out each word as if exhaustion alone slowed him.
"ARRGHH, WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY?!" the bald man roared, but the other criminals only continued their silence, dismissing him entirely.
"Huh? These bastards actually ignored me?" he muttered in disbelief, his rage mounting.
"Kekeke… so what?" the sinister one sneered. "It's not like you can report this to the boss. He isn't even here."
"You idiot," the bald man spat, grabbing the sinister bandit by the collar. "A man like me handles his problems himself. I don't run to anyone else!"
A low chuckle came from nearby. "Says the one who dreams of joining the Lotus Petals," a short woman in a faded blue kimono remarked, exhaling smoke from the Kiseru she held between her lips.
"Kekeke… true enough," the sinister one began, smirking, but before he could continue, a punch from the bald man sent him sprawling. "Shut up, you bastard!"
The lazy bandit leaned back with a drawn-out grin, "Caaalmmm dooowwn… Jigen will be baaaack soon," he slurred, his tone almost teasing.
Then, abruptly, every criminal froze. A sudden shift in the atmosphere rippled across the street. Something—someone—had arrived. It was a presence that was eerily calm, yet beneath it simmered a barely restrained fury. Instinctively, every pair of eyes turned toward the entrance of the eastern sector.
There, stepping into the dim light, were three figures. A girl, two boys, each a samurai of the police force. Reiko, Sentarō, and Tadatoshi, their movements precise and deliberate, and each carrying a criminal in their grasp.
"Wait… are those samu—" The sinister bandit's voice faltered.
"Hey, Baldy… isn't that Jigen?" he muttered.
"It is," the bald man said, squinting. "And those are the ones who followed him."
"What are you doing, samurai? Did you just—" the bald man began, but before he could finish, Sentarō, Tadatoshi, and Reiko flung the criminals toward the gathered bandits, clearing hundreds of paces in a single, devastating arc.
"I thought one of these fools escaped," Tadatoshi said, pointing at the one they called Jigen. "But on the way here, we found him dead. Surprising, isn't it?" His grin was wide, almost gleeful.
"Wait… what do you mean 'on your way here'?" the bald man asked, confusion and fear threading his voice.
"Isn't it obvious?" Sentarō said as he drew his katana, taking a stance that radiated lethal intent. "We came here to end this."
Before the bandits could react, Sentarō bolted forward. His movements were instantaneous, a blur to any observer, as he slashed diagonally across the bald man's chest. The metallic smell of blood saturated the air, and crimson blossomed across the dirt beneath their feet.
The other criminals froze, shock rooting them to the ground, their eyes widening as they glimpsed Sentarō's face. Rage burned there, pure and unyielding.
"Hey, Sentarō! Don't steal all the fun!" Tadatoshi yelled, unsheathing his katana and wakizashi in tandem. His grin widened, excitement dancing in his amber eyes.
"WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!" the sinister-looking criminal screamed, banging a bell that rang through the sector. Its loud, piercing tone echoed across the ruined streets, carrying through the village and heralding the arrival of more than a hundred armed criminals. They came charging, blades glinting, faces twisted in fury and panic alike.
"Oh no… they're too many!" Reiko gasped, momentarily frozen at the sheer numbers. But Sentarō's expression was stone, controlled and precise, while Tadatoshi's excitement only grew. Without hesitation, the two dashed forward, their feet barely touching the ground.
"One Sword Style… Daidan Zenshō!" Sentarō roared. (Great Dividing Forward Pulse)
"Two Sword Style… Sōshō Ha!" Tadatoshi bellowed. (Twin Pulse Destroyer)
BOOM!!
The impact of their strikes was catastrophic. Nearly forty criminals were launched into the air, their bodies tumbling helplessly as blood sprayed across the sky and the ground. The combination of Sentarō's precision and Tadatoshi's raw power left a trail of devastation in their wake.
Reiko's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the carnage, while the surviving criminals trembled in disbelief. Sentarō's scowling face radiated lethal authority, and Tadatoshi's grin only fueled the aura of terror.
"What the hell… how do we fight that?" one male criminal whispered, watching his comrades fall from the sky like ragdolls.
"They… they aren't normal," another muttered, dread thickening his voice.
"Sentarō… Tadatoshi… how…?" Reiko whispered, her heart pounding but her voice barely audible.
"ALRIGHT! NOW I'M PUMPED!" Tadatoshi yelled, and in a blink, he darted forward. His twin blades crossed in mid-air, a lethal X slicing through the space before him.
"Two Sword Style… Ō Jūji Shō!" (King Cross Drive)
In an instant, he vanished and reappeared behind five criminals, leaving them with cross-shaped slashes across their chests. Blood sprayed as they crumpled, writhing in shock. Tadatoshi's grin widened. "Why aren't you fighting back? Don't tell me it's fear!"
"Shit… they're going to kill us all!" one criminal panicked, turning to flee with four others in tow.
"Where do you think you're going, huh?" Sentarō's voice cut through the chaos as he appeared in front of them.
"One Sword Style… Hebi no Tōmai!" (Head Dance of the Snake)
With a fluid, serpentine motion, Sentarō moved like water flowing through reeds, striking with lethal precision. Each bandit fell instantly, decapitated, their panic echoing as their comrades watched in horror.
"Quick! Go after the girl, she's weak!" one criminal screamed, as he and four others rushed toward Reiko.
"Oh no, REIKO!" Sentarō shouted in alarm.
"Shut up, Sentarō, don't worry about me!" Reiko said, drawing herself into a stance, calm and composed despite the chaos.
"You're mine, pretty lady," a criminal sneered, tongue sticking out as he lunged at her with a wild slash.
"One Sword Style… Ryūkawa!" (Flowing River)
Reiko deflected each attack with fluid precision, her movements smooth and continuous as if she were water itself. The four criminals barreled into one another in confusion, unable to counter her rhythm.
"So she does know swordsmanship…" Tadatoshi murmured under his breath, momentarily stunned.
"REIKO STYLE… Ikazuchi Bagua!" (Thunder Bagua)
With a swift pivot, Reiko delivered a crushing punch to one of the criminals, sending him crashing into the others. All five collided into a nearby house, the impact splintering wood and scattering debris across the street.
Tadatoshi stood there dumbfounded. "What the hell was that?" he muttered.
"That's my sword style," Reiko replied casually, shrugging.
"That isn't even swordsmanship!!" Tadatoshi yelled in comic disbelief, shaking his head.
"The fight isn't over, remember?" Sentarō interjected. His tone was calm, but every word carried weight. "Our goal is to eliminate every single one of them."
The three warriors aligned themselves side by side, their gazes fixed on the remaining criminals, the air around them tense with anticipation.
For the first time in the eastern sector in years, the samurai of Sakurahara took action against injustice, against corruption, and against the haunting past of their own police force.
They were ready.
And the criminals would soon learn what it meant to face the wrath of the law.