Chapter 1: The Day the Streets Learned My Name
I walked into the alley like I belonged there.
The moment my foot crossed the cracked white line on the road, the air changed. Conversations died. Laughter faded. Even the distant sound of traffic seemed to soften, as if the city itself was paying attention. I didn't rush. I never rushed. People who rushed looked nervous, and nervous people died early in places like this.
Eyes followed me from every direction.
Some were sharp and hostile, filled with the kind of hatred that came from insecurity. Some were curious, trying to figure out who I was and whether I was dangerous. Others lingered longer than necessary, especially from the girls hiding behind corners and shop windows. I was used to it. Ever since I was young, people noticed me before I ever spoke.
My face did that.
In Shinjuku, being noticed was both a blessing and a curse.
The gang was waiting near the end of the alley. Seven of them. Spread out, pretending not to care, pretending this was their territory. Their leader stepped forward when he saw me, cracking his neck and spitting to the side like he was trying to convince himself he was confident.
"So you're the guy everyone's been whispering about," he said. "Didn't expect you to look like that."
One of his men laughed nervously. "Looks like a model. Think he got lost?"
I smiled.
Not wide. Not friendly. Just enough to let them know I heard every word.
"Move," the leader said, voice rising. "This area isn't for people like you."
I tilted my head slightly and looked at him properly. His stance was wrong. Too stiff. His fists were clenched too tight. His eyes kept flicking to my shoulders, my hands, my face. He was scared. He just didn't want his men to see it.
"And what kind of people is it for?" I asked calmly.
The alley went quiet.
That silence lasted exactly half a second.
He swung first.
Fast, angry, and sloppy.
I stepped aside without thinking. My body moved before my mind finished the thought. His fist passed through empty air, and my counter landed cleanly on his jaw. The sound was heavy and wrong, like bone meeting something harder than it expected.
He flew backward and crashed into a stack of trash bags, rolling across the ground before hitting the wall.
A soft mechanical voice echoed inside my head.
"Experience gained."
Numbers flashed briefly in my vision.
Strength increased.
The rest of them froze.
No one expected that. Not the speed. Not the force. Not the calm way I stood there afterward, breathing steady, expression unchanged.
One of them reached for a knife.
I looked at him.
He stopped.
Fear spread faster than words ever could.
I took a step forward.
They stepped back.
That was when one of them panicked and tried to run past me. I caught him by the collar and slammed him into the wall. Concrete cracked outward like a spiderweb. His weapon clattered to the ground. He didn't scream. The air had been knocked clean out of his lungs.
"Go," I said quietly.
They didn't wait to hear it twice.
When the alley emptied, I straightened my jacket and checked my knuckles. Not even bruised. The system didn't just make me stronger. It made my body adapt. Faster. Tougher. Sharper.
I continued walking like nothing had happened.
By the time I reached the main street, people were already whispering.
"That's him."
"Did you see his face?"
"No way someone like that is normal."
A girl across the street stared openly. She didn't even pretend to hide it. Her cheeks were red, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. When our gazes met, she didn't look away. She swallowed instead.
I looked forward again.
Attention was power, but only if you controlled it.
That night, my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
"You beat my men."
I stared at the message for a moment before replying.
"They attacked first."
Another vibration came almost instantly.
"You don't know who you're dealing with."
I smiled to myself.
"Neither do you."
I deleted the chat and slipped the phone back into my pocket.
The next morning, Shinjuku felt different.
People moved aside when I walked past. Gangs watched from a distance instead of approaching. Even the police glanced at me and then pretended not to notice. Fear traveled fast in this city. Faster than rumors. Faster than truth.
At school, the whispers followed me into the halls.
"That's him."
"He's even hotter up close."
"I heard he sent seven guys to the hospital."
I sat at my desk like it didn't matter. The teacher's voice blurred into background noise. I could feel eyes on me from every angle. Some full of admiration. Some full of jealousy. Some full of hate.
All of them dangerous.
That afternoon, they tried again.
Eight this time.
Armed. Organized. Waiting near a construction site where no one would interfere. The leader from the alley stood behind them, his face bruised and swollen, eyes burning with humiliation and rage.
"This ends today," he said.
I sighed.
It always ended today for someone.
The first one rushed me with a metal pipe. I caught it mid-swing. The impact sent a vibration through my arm, but it didn't hurt. I tightened my grip and crushed the pipe like it was made of thin plastic.
Their confidence shattered instantly.
I moved.
One strike. Clean. Efficient.
Another tried to grab me from behind. I twisted, elbowing his ribs and feeling them cave in under the impact. He dropped without a sound. A third charged with a knife. I sidestepped and slammed his head into a concrete pillar.
Cracks spread.
Blood hit the ground.
The system kept whispering.
Strength increased.
Reflex increased.
Vitality increased.
By the time they realized they were outmatched, it was too late. Bodies littered the ground. Groans echoed through the empty site. Only one was still standing.
The leader.
He charged at me with a scream, swinging wildly. I caught his punch and twisted his arm until he dropped to his knees.
I crouched in front of him.
"Listen carefully," I said. "You don't get a second warning."
His eyes were wide now. Completely broken. He nodded again and again.
Good.
That night, a woman approached me outside a convenience store.
Tall. Calm. Sharp eyes. She didn't flinch. She didn't avoid my gaze. She wasn't afraid.
That alone made her dangerous.
"You're changing the balance," she said.
"I already did," I replied.
She smiled faintly. "People like you don't last long."
"People like me decide how long others last."
Her smile widened.
"Then Shinjuku is about to burn."
She walked away without another word.
I watched her disappear into the crowd.
Some threats came with fists.
Others came with smiles.
Shinjuku didn't know it yet, but the rules had already changed.
And I was standing right at the center of it.
End of Chapter 1