The stairwell groaned under their boots as Luv and Ayu descended into the basement. The door slammed shut behind them with a metallic clang, locking tight. The smell of iron filled the air—not just mold and rust. Blood.
The narrow corridor opened into a wide chamber lit by dim red bulbs. The walls dripped with condensation, streaked with grime. Chains dangled from the ceiling, swaying slightly as though touched by invisible hands.
And waiting for them—dozens of men in black suits, every one branded with the dragon insignia tattooed across their skin. Guns gleamed in the low light, blades flashed, and cruel smirks twisted their faces.
A voice echoed from the far end of the chamber. Smooth, mocking.
"Well, well. So the rumors were true. Two little ghosts tearing through the Crimson Fang. And now you dare step into our house?"
The crowd parted, revealing a tall man in a white suit. His hair was slicked back, his smile sharp as glass. A dragon ring glimmered on his finger.
"Welcome to the Dragon's Den," he said with a bow. "I am Ryuga. Consider me your executioner."
The air shifted.
Luv's hand was already on his gun. His black eyes scanned the room, calculating angles, exits, numbers. Too many. Too close.
Ayu's pulse raced, but her lips curved into a grin that matched Ryuga's. She whispered sideways to Luv, "Looks like fun, huh?"
"Stay sharp," Luv muttered.
The first shot cracked like thunder.
Chaos exploded.
Gunfire lit the chamber like lightning. Bullets ricocheted off steel beams, sparks showering the air. Luv moved like a phantom, his shots precise, each bullet finding a skull, a throat, a heart. He flowed through the hailstorm of lead with deadly calm, his body weaving between pillars as if the bullets obeyed his will.
Ayu charged forward with her blades. She leapt onto a chain, swung like an acrobat, and slashed the throat of the nearest enforcer mid-air. Blood sprayed across the wall as she landed lightly, spinning into another kill.
But there were too many.
The Black Dragons pressed in, their numbers overwhelming. A pipe slammed into Ayu's ribs, knocking the air from her lungs. Another grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back, blade raised—
Luv's bullet blew half the man's skull away.
Ayu ripped free and rammed her knife into another's chest, snarling through the pain. "Thanks," she panted.
"Don't fall behind," Luv replied coldly, firing again.
Ryuga watched from the far end, smiling like a man enjoying theater. His voice carried over the gunfire. "So much spirit! No wonder the Fang fell. But tell me—how long can you last against the Dragon?"
As if on cue, the chamber doors opened, and more enforcers poured in. A wave of black suits and guns, endless, relentless.
For the first time, Ayu's grin faltered. "There's too many!"
Luv's jaw tightened. He emptied his magazine, reloaded in a blink, and kept shooting. Blood splashed across his face, but his black eyes burned colder than ever.
"They want a war?" he growled. "We'll give them one."
And he charged straight into the horde.