*Disclaimer: This chapter is so so much gore and mature that it might disturb the readers
On the night of 13th December 2041, the Wen's house stands on the North-East edge of Veilmoor, a city shrouded in fog and mystery. The streets below are suffocated by the thick, heavy mist, and the buildings rise like silent, decaying giants, casting long shadows that only deepen the sense of unease. The air is filled with unsettling sounds—distant tolls from a forgotten bell, the soft rustle of footsteps that seem not to belong to you, and faint whispers carried on the wind, barely audible yet chilling to the bone. In Veilmoor, reality and nightmare weave together seamlessly, leaving those who wander its streets uncertain of what they've truly encountered. Fear here is as constant as the fog, and danger lurks in every shadow, waiting for the foolish or the desperate to step into its cold embrace.
Wen-Li lies awake on her bed, unable to find rest. Clad in a crop top, she feels the slow, cool breeze as it slips through the slightly open window, stirring the room. The things around her seem to move gently of their own accord, as if touched by unseen hands. Delicate petals of dandelions drift lazily through the air, carries by the breeze. Beside her, her cat, Wen-Mi, sleeps soundly, offering her a small measure of warmth and comfort.
Yet Wen-Li's eyes remain wide open, unblinking, her mind too restless for sleep. The weight of her grief is unbearable. Since losing her parents, she has been haunted by an overwhelming sadness, anger, and a deep, hollow loneliness that gnaws at her soul. The wind carries faint whispers into the room, but they offer no comfort
At 8:30 am on the 13th of December, 2041, the atmosphere in the SSCBF headquarters was stifling, the weight of the situation pressing down on everyone present. Chief Wen-Li stood at the head of the meeting table, her usually composed demeanour betraying a slight falter, a reflection of the growing unease that gripped the entire agency. Every eye in the room was fixed on her, waiting for the briefing—waiting to hear more about the man whose very name now sent ripples of fear through the ranks: Agent-90.
"Let's begin," Wen-Li said, her voice steady but laced with the gravity of the subject. She gestured towards the tactical screens, where the faces of Fen Gohxian, Yang Xiao Lang, and Principal Kwong Joonyun appeared, accompanied by a growing dossier on Agent-90.
"Fen Gohxian, as we know, was killed during the high-speed chase in Crimsonmoor Central. Agent-90 terminated him before we had a chance to take him into custody." She paused, her gaze flickering briefly towards Commander Krieg, who sat stone-faced, offering no visible reaction. "Yang Xiao Lang and his father—both notorious for their heinous crimes—were eliminated right under the watch of the law. And then there's Principal Kwong Joonyun, whose abuse of disabled students shocked even the darkest corners of our system. He too was executed without trial."
A murmur rippled across the room. Lieutenant Nightingale, always composed, tapped her fingers rhythmically on the table. Her usual cold calm was now tinged with a sense of unease. She broke the silence, cutting through the rising tension. "He's targeting those who've managed to escape the law. Criminals who've slipped through the cracks. But his methods—they're extreme. His precision, his efficiency—it's terrifying. He's more than just an assassin. He's working with purpose."
Wen-Li nodded, her brow furrowing. "Exactly. Agent-90 has killed 73 of the 99 most dangerous Sinners, as well as 107 outlaws from a group of 20,000. And let's not forget the two chairmen of the SSCBF that he assassinated. He's systematically dismantling key figures that pose a threat to stability."
The mention of the chairmen sent a palpable shift through the room. Even the most hardened officers—Captain Robert and Lan Qian—exchanged uneasy glances. This was no longer just a matter of law enforcement—it was now a fight for survival.
Commander Krieg leaned forward, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence. "He's a threat to everyone in this room. Not just the criminals—us too. He doesn't discriminate."
Wen-Li's gaze moved to the dossiers before her. "I fear he may be connected to a secret organisation. His actions are too calculated, his targets too specific. But as of now, we have no definitive proof."
Lan Qian added, "We also suspect that Agent-90 may be responsible for the deaths of the late Chief Wen-Luo and Lieutenant Ren-Li. If that's the case, he's been operating far longer than we initially thought."
President Song Luoyang, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. His voice, deep and authoritative, resonated through the room. "We cannot allow Agent-90 to continue. While his actions may target the wicked, he undermines our authority and the rule of law. If we do not put a stop to this, we risk losing control of the SSCBF itself. I want him found. Arrested. Immediately."
His words were final, and everyone present knew there was no room for failure.
Wen-Li inhaled deeply, then turned her focus towards Lingaong Xuein, the officer who had once faced Agent-90 and lived to tell the tale. "Lingaong," Wen-Li began, her voice softer but resolute, "I want you to lead the team to bring him in."
Lingaong Xuein stiffened at the mention of his name, memories of their last encounter flashing vividly before her eyes. She recalled the cold precision with which he had disarmed and incapacitated her team—how he had toyed with them as though they were mere children.
"He's fast," she started, her voice low but steady. "We had him surrounded, but it didn't matter. He injured all of us before we could even react. It wasn't just his strength—it was as though he anticipated our every move. I've... I've never seen anything like it."
Koizumoto Daishoji, seated beside her, nodded grimly. "It was as if he was playing with us. Injuring us but never going for the kill. It felt deliberate."
Demitin Koğlulanci, another survivor of that fateful encounter, added, "He doesn't kill indiscriminately. Only those he deems deserving. But how he makes that judgement, we still don't understand."
Sakim Massersi, his voice tight with tension, echoed the fear that gripped the room. "We were nothing to him. He spared us only because we weren't his targets. If we face him again, I'm not sure we'll be so lucky."
Wen-Li's expression hardened. "He's not invincible. We need to uncover who's backing him—if anyone—and neutralise him before he causes more chaos."
Lingaong Xuein, still staring down at the table, clenched her fists. "When he injured us, just before disappearing, he looked at me and said, 'Catch me if you can, Officer Lingaong Xuein.'" Her voice wavered slightly before regaining strength. "I won't let him slip away again."
Wen-Li gave a sharp nod of approval. "You'll have the full resources of the SSCBF at your disposal. I want him brought in alive, if possible."
The meeting ended with a heavy sense of foreboding, the officers filing out one by one, the weight of their task clear. Agent-90 wasn't just another target—he was a deadly force they had never encountered before. And with every passing moment, the fear of what his next move might be lingered in the minds of all who had crossed his path.
As the meeting room cleared, Wen-Li issued her final orders.
"Lan Qian, analyse the surveillance footage from every city where Agent-90 has been spotted."
"Yes, Chief," Lan Qian replied, already turning to initiate the search.
"Robert," Wen-Li continued, her voice resolute, "you and Lingaong will lead the operation to find Agent-90. If necessary, you must eliminate him." She handed Robert a sleek, compact handgun. "This is the Kobalt M9. It fires energy-encased bullets and is equipped with an integrated silencer. Its glowing LED sights make it ideal for night combat. Use it wisely."
Robert nodded, gripping the weapon firmly, understanding the weight of his responsibility.
The hunt for Agent-90 had officially begun.
As the jeep rumbled along the uneven road towards Ironclad Haven, the looming fortress barely visible in the distance, tension hung thick in the air. Koizumoto Daishoji gripped the steering wheel with unwavering focus, his eyes locked on the road ahead. Beside him, Captain Robert sat nervously, biting his nails—a habit he couldn't seem to break, especially on missions as critical as this. In the back, the rest of the team sat in contemplative silence, the recent discussions about Chief Wen-Li and Agent-90 swirling in their minds like an ominous cloud.
Demitin Koğlulanci was the first to break the uneasy quiet, her voice cutting through the drone of the engine. "So, what's really going on between Chief Wen-Li and Agent-90? She seems... fixated on him." Her gaze darted between her comrades, searching for reassurance that she wasn't the only one sensing something off.
Lingaong Xuein, her arms tightly crossed over her chest, responded with a thoughtful frown. "She's definitely got an interest in him, but it feels deeper than just professional. There's something about the way she talks about him, almost as if she knows more than she's telling us. But as far as I know, they've never even crossed paths. None of us has."
Sakim Massersi leaned forward slightly, his tone laced with scepticism. "Exactly. Agent-90 is a ghost—a phantom none of us has ever seen or dealt with directly. Yet, Wen-Li is convinced he's a major threat. Why now? Why him?"
Louisese Langermanz, who had been silent up until now, sighed and joined the conversation. "I think it's what he's done that's put her on edge. His kill list is extensive, and he's been taking down some of the worst—people like Fen Gohxian and Yang Xiao Lang, criminals who slipped through the cracks of the system. He's been cleaning up our messes, but without any regard for the law."
Captain Robert, briefly pulling his hand away from his mouth, nodded. "Wen-Li doesn't know him—none of us do—but we can't deny the trail of bodies he's left behind. He's not just some vigilante. He's precise, surgical even." He glanced at the rearview mirror, locking eyes with Lingaong. "And I think that's what frightens her. Honestly, it terrifies all of us."
Demitin leaned back, folding her arms with a huff. "But why is she so obsessed with him? The outlaws he's taken out weren't exactly saints—they were dangerous, worse than most. Yet she speaks about him like he's the greatest threat we've ever faced."
Koizumoto kept his eyes on the road, his voice measured and calm. "Perhaps it's not just the killings that have her rattled. It's the lack of control. We don't know who he is, what he wants, or why he's doing this. That kind of unpredictability—someone operating outside of our reach—drives Wen-Li mad. She thrives on order, and he's the embodiment of chaos."
Sakim nodded in agreement. "True, but it's not just about control. He's making us look like fools. Every time we're on the brink of capturing these criminals, he's already beaten us to the punch. We're left cleaning up the aftermath while he takes all the decisive actions."
Lingaong's expression darkened as she interjected. "And let's not forget, he operates entirely outside the law. No arrests, no trials, just execution. We can't justify letting someone like that roam free. Wen-Li's concern is justified."
Louisese added thoughtfully, "But the bigger question is, what's his endgame? He's not just a thug with a gun. There's a clear method to his madness, and it feels like we're missing a crucial piece of the puzzle."
Captain Robert sighed deeply, his nerves showing as he resumed his nervous nail-biting. "Whatever his agenda is, we're about to find out. Ironclad Haven isn't the kind of place you waltz into without expecting a fight. If he's there, this mission is going to be anything but straightforward."
Koizumoto's hands tightened on the wheel as the imposing outline of Ironclad Haven grew ever larger on the horizon. "We need to be prepared for whatever comes next. Wen-Li's reasons for focusing on Agent-90 may still be unclear, but we're the ones who have to face him. Let's just hope we're ready when that moment arrives."
The jeep rumbled on, its occupants steeling themselves for what lay ahead. Agent-90 remained an enigma, a shadow in the night whose motives were as unclear as the fog that constantly shrouded their world. Wen-Li's obsession with him had only heightened their sense of unease. But as they drew closer to Ironclad Haven, one thing became glaringly certain—this mission would test every limit they had.
In the dimly lit confines of President Song Luoyang's private office, the atmosphere was thick with a formal tension. The walls, adorned with traditional art pieces, contrasted sharply with the high-tech communications equipment scattered across the space. The petals of dandelions on the desk were drenched in moisture from the cool air that wafted through the room. The soft hum of an air purifier was the only sound until the door slid shut behind Chief Wen-Li, who stood at attention before the President. Song Luoyang, seated in an elegant, cushioned chair, folded his hands thoughtfully on the low table before him.
President Song Luoyang, a man of few words, was known for his stoic demeanour and sharp intellect. His piercing gaze locked onto Wen-Li as she entered, her posture rigid with respect, though the weight of the mission clearly bore down on her shoulders. The silence stretched for a moment longer, as if both were preparing themselves for the gravity of the conversation that was to follow.
"Chief Wen-Li," Song Luoyang began, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of concern. "I trust you have the latest updates on the situation regarding Agent-90."
Wen-Li met his gaze without flinching, her hands clasped firmly behind her back. "Yes, Mr. President. We've been monitoring his movements closely, but he continues to evade direct contact. His recent actions have caused considerable unrest." She hesitated briefly, before adding, "The team is en route to Ironclad Haven as we speak."
Song Luoyang sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as if lost in thought. "Agent-90 is no longer just a rogue agent. His presence disrupts not only the order of operations but also the very foundation of trust within the SSCBF. Your men and women are shaken—some even afraid."
Wen-Li nodded slowly, her expression resolute. "He's eliminated several of our most wanted criminals, but his methods are concerning. Fen Gohxian, Yang Xiao Lang, and Principal Kwong Joonyun—yes, they were dangerous, but the manner in which he dispatched them... cold, calculated, devoid of any due process. It's sending a message that's far from reassuring."
The President steepled his fingers, his gaze sharpening. "There are whispers that Agent-90 is targeting individuals tied to corruption—those who escape justice through the cracks in our legal system. But his brand of vigilante justice is not something we can condone. He's creating his own rules, and that's a threat we can't control."
A heavy silence followed, before Wen-Li spoke again, her voice more measured this time. "I suspect there's more at play here than we fully understand. Agent-90 is not acting on mere impulse. His actions, while appearing erratic, follow a disturbingly clear pattern. He's dismantling threats that should be under our jurisdiction, but his motivations remain murky. Some within the agency believe he's working for a secret organisation, though we lack solid proof."
Song Luoyang raised an eyebrow, his tone sceptical. "Do you believe that, Chief? That there's a larger force at work here?"
Wen-Li paused, carefully weighing her response. "I'm not certain, but I do believe Agent-90 isn't acting alone, nor is this simply personal vengeance. His actions are too methodical, too well-resourced. Whether he's part of something larger or not, we need to stop him before more damage is done."
The President's expression hardened, his tone now resolute. "Agent-90 has become a clear and present danger, not just to our operations but to the stability of our society. His assassination of two SSCBF chairmen—well, that was a direct attack on our leadership. And let's not ignore the rumours of his involvement in the deaths of Chief Wen-Luo and Lieutenant Ren-Li. We cannot let this continue. He must be apprehended—dead or alive."
Wen-Li stand strongly doesn't show any emotion at the mention of the late Chief and Lieutenant, both of whom had commanded deep respect within the organisation. The thought that Agent-90 could have played a role in their deaths weighed heavily on her, but she hadn't yet voiced those suspicions aloud. Now, with the President acknowledging the possibility, the burden of her mission felt even heavier.
"I understand, Mr. President," she replied, her voice firm but betraying a hint of inner conflict. "I've already instructed my team to use all necessary force. We'll bring him in, no matter the cost."
Song Luoyang leaned forward, his eyes piercing. "Chief Wen-Li, I trust your leadership. But you must prepare yourself for what capturing Agent-90 might reveal. There's a strong chance that when we confront him, we'll uncover truths that could shake the very foundation of the SSCBF."
Wen-Li stood a little taller, her gaze unwavering. "I am prepared, Mr. President. My priority remains the safety and stability of the SSCBF—and to ensure that Agent-90 is brought to justice."
The President nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Good. Proceed with caution. And remember—if you find that Agent-90 isn't acting alone, I want to know immediately. No secrets, no compromises."
Wen-Li returned his nod, her mind already racing with the potential implications of what lay ahead. "Understood, Mr. President."
As she turned to leave, Song Luoyang's voice halted her just as she reached the door. "Chief Wen-Li... remember, this mission is not only about him. It's about preserving what we stand for. Do not let his actions tarnish the integrity of everything we've built."
She paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. "I won't forget that, Mr. President."
Then, just as the door was about to close, he added, almost as an afterthought, "You're just like your father, you know. I believe he'd be proud to see you following in his footsteps."
A brief smile tugged at the corner of Wen-Li's lips before she exited the room, leaving President Song Luoyang alone, deep in thought. Whatever lay ahead, one thing was certain: Agent-90 was no ordinary adversary. And when the inevitable confrontation came, it would alter the course of everything they knew.
Madam Di-Xian sat in her office, her eyes skimming the headlines of the newspaper in front of her. The sombre words detailed the tragic suicide of a teenage student from Yamaguchi High School who had leapt to his death at Obsidian Run, a notorious cliff. The crimson lotus beside her, usually vibrant, seemed to absorb the weight of the moment, its rich colour becoming dull and saturated as if in mourning.
A sharp knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Agent-Jun entered, his expression as calm and composed as ever. "Madam, the client has arrived. She's requesting to see you," he informed.
"Let her in," Madam Di-Xian ordered, her voice measured but with an underlying tone of curiosity.
The door opened, and in walked a middle-aged woman, perhaps in her early forties. Her movements were deliberate, and there was a quiet intensity in her presence. She sat down as Agent-Jun dutifully served them both tea. "Please, have some tea," Madam Di-Xian offered with her characteristic grace.
"Thank you," the woman replied, though her voice was flat, devoid of any real gratitude. Her eyes, however, spoke volumes—they were filled with a deadly focus, the kind of cold, simmering rage that only grief could ignite.
Madam Di-Xian watched her carefully. "What brings you here today?" she asked, her voice gentle but probing.
The woman's hands tightened around her teacup as she spoke, her voice low and edged with raw pain. "It's about my son... he's dead. He died at Obsidian Run," she said, her words laced with sorrow and vengeance.
Madam Di-Xian nodded, her face unreadable. "I saw the news. My deepest condolences," she said quietly.
But the woman's response was unexpected, sharp with fury. "Those bullies—they killed him," she spat, her voice trembling with hatred. "They tormented him, pushed him to the edge. I need your help to finish them all."
The room seemed to freeze, the air thick with the weight of her words. Madam Di-Xian, ever poised, took a slow sip of her tea, her eyes never leaving the woman's face. "Revenge is a dangerous path, Mrs. Tanaka. It is not something to be sought lightly," she said, her voice steady, though the implication of the request was clear.
Mrs. Takahashi's eyes hardened, her grief twisting into something darker. "My son deserved better. Justice will never come for bullies like them—not in the courts, not in this world. They need to pay, and I want you to make sure they do."
Madam Di-Xian remained silent for a moment, contemplating the request. She could feel the woman's desperation, the desire for blood veiled in the thin shroud of grief.
"You must be certain," Madam Di-Xian finally said, her voice soft but firm. "Once we begin down this road, there is no turning back. Are you prepared to live with the consequences of this vengeance?"
Mrs. Takahashi looked at her, the fire in her eyes unwavering. "I have already lost everything. I have nothing left to lose."
Madam Di-Xian set her cup down gently on the table, the soft clink of porcelain against wood the only sound in the room. "Very well," she said, her tone final. "We will proceed. But I want to hear of your story and how your son was killed"
The decision had been made. And with it, the quiet machinery of vengeance began to turn, set in motion by the relentless force of a mother's grief.
Lan Qian sat bathed in the dim glow of her computer screens, her fingers dancing across the keyboard with precision. The soft hum of servers and the faint whir of data streams filled the small room, cluttered with cables, monitors, and an array of tech gadgets. She had been working tirelessly for hours, hacking through layers of firewalls and encryption, all in a desperate attempt to track the elusive Agent-90.
Her brow furrowed as she sifted through line after line of coded information, scanning for any trace of his digital footprint. Yet, the deeper she delved, the more her suspicion grew. Something wasn't quite right. Hidden beneath the surface of SSCBF's intelligence reports, there was a layer that didn't align with their assumptions—something concealed, something overlooked.
Then, a single blip appeared on one of her monitors. It wasn't much—just a fragment of a signal—but it was enough to spark her attention. Lan Qian's eyes widened as she quickly cross-referenced the data, her heart pounding with anticipation. The geolocation ping wasn't coming from Ironclad Haven, as they had believed. It was from a place far more unexpected: Feelspire, a chaotic city known for its bustling markets and hidden underworld.
"Got you..." Lan Qian muttered under her breath, a sense of triumph flashing across her face.
Without wasting a second, she pulled up a secure line to Chief Wen-Li. There was no time to lose. As the connection established, Wen-Li's composed face flickered onto one of the screens. She was in her office, the weight of the recent missions evident in her eyes.
"Chief," Lan Qian began, trying to keep her voice steady despite the excitement bubbling beneath the surface. "I've found him."
Wen-Li leaned forward, her expression sharpening with focus. "Where?"
Lan Qian swiftly pulled up a map on her screen, displaying the real-time location she had uncovered. "He's in Feelspire, not Ironclad Haven as we originally thought. I hacked into a network of cameras and signals in the area. Agent-90 has been lying low there, possibly planning his next move."
Wen-Li's brow furrowed, deep in thought. "Feelspire... that's unexpected. It's a dangerous place, filled with criminals and outlaws, but not the sort of place we'd expect someone like him to hide."
Lan Qian nodded in agreement. "Exactly. It's the perfect cover—he can blend into the chaos. But I've been tracking encrypted communications in and out of the city. He's moving cautiously, but he's definitely there. I'm sending you the data now."
With a few quick keystrokes, Lan Qian transferred the files to Wen-Li's terminal. The Chief's eyes scanned the incoming data, her mind already working through the implications.
"This changes everything," Wen-Li said quietly, almost to herself. She glanced back at the screen. "Good work, Lan Qian. This might be the breakthrough we've been waiting for." allowed herself a brief moment of satisfaction before replying, "Shall I continue monitoring his movements?"
Wen-Li nodded, her expression resolute. "Yes, keep tracking him. We'll need every bit of intel before we make a move. I'll inform the team to redirect their mission to Feelspire. And, Lan Qian..." Her tone softened slightly. "You've done well. This could be the key to finally catching him." Lan Qian smiled faintly, already turning back to her keyboard. "Thank you, Chief. I'll keep you updated. Let's hope this is it."
The screen went dark as Wen-Li ended the call, leaving Lan alone once more with her monitors. She stared at the data pulsing across the screen, feeling the weight of her discovery. Agent-90 had always been a ghost, a shadow in the system—but now, for the first time, they had a tangible lead.
And for Lan Qian, that was all the motivation she needed to dig deeper, to follow every digital trail, and to finally help bring down the most dangerous assassin the SSCBF had ever faced.
Suddenly, the door to the room burst open as Robert and his team entered in a rush, but the room was empty. Agent-90 wasn't there.
"We're late," Robert muttered under his breath, frustration colouring his voice.
Just then, his phone rang. It was Wen-Li, and she informed them of the new intel—Agent-90 was in Feelspire.
Without hesitation, Robert nodded to his team, and they hurried back to their jeep. The chase was on, and this time, they wouldn't let him slip away so easily.
Agent-90 stood alone in the dimly lit room, methodically preparing for his next mission. The shadows from the lone desk lamp danced along the walls, casting eerie shapes that flickered with every movement. His actions were calm, precise, as he loaded his weapons and arranged them meticulously in his case. Then, without warning, there came a knock at the door.
"Room service," a voice called from outside. The tone was casual, but too deliberate—too rehearsed.
Agent-90 froze for a brief moment, his expression unreadable. He knew exactly who was on the other side. The SSCBF had finally tracked him down. Ignoring the knock, he remained motionless. He wasn't in the mood for confrontation—not yet. The minutes dragged on, and the tension thickened like a storm ready to break.
Suddenly, the door exploded inward, kicked open with force as a group of SSCBF officers stormed in. Robert led the charge, followed closely by Lingaong Xuein, Koizumoto Daishoji, Demitin Koğlulanci, Sakim Massersi, and Louisese Langermanz. Weapons drawn, determination etched into their faces, they rushed toward Agent-90.
But he was ready.
In a flash, he moved. His body became a blur as he struck first, a bone-crushing blow landing squarely in Robert's chest, sending him crashing against the wall. Before Lingaong Xuein could react, Agent-90 swept her legs out from under her, sending her sprawling to the ground. Koizumoto Daishoji lunged, but a sharp elbow to his jaw left him dazed, stumbling backward.
Demitin Koğlulanci and Louisese Langermanz attacked in tandem, but Agent-90 effortlessly sidestepped their strikes, landing precise blows that left them both incapacitated. Without pausing, he spun and grabbed Sakim Massersi by the wrist, twisting it with brutal force before slamming him against the desk. The entire encounter lasted mere seconds, the elite squad now scattered and wounded, struggling to regain their footing.
Panting heavily, Lingaong Xuein forced herself to her feet, her body aching from the fall. But before she could act, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. A presence made itself known.
Chief Wen-Li had arrived.
She stood in the doorway, her eyes glowing with a fierce crimson hue. The air around her crackled with an invisible energy, giving the room a palpable sense of power. Her voice was calm, measured, but it carried an undeniable weight. "Agent-90, you've got nowhere left to run."
Agent-90's head tilted slightly, sensing the shift. Wen-Li was no ordinary opponent. Before he could react, she raised her hand, summoning forth glowing red chains that appeared to swirl around her fingers like spectral bindings. With a swift flick of her wrist, she unleashed them—glowing red shackles darted toward him, binding his limbs with supernatural precision.
The "Crimson Shackle," her formidable ability, was one of the few forces capable of restraining someone like Agent-90. He tensed as the chains wrapped around him, his muscles straining against the mystical energy. He attempted to break free, but the shackles held him firmly in place. Despite the situation, he smirked—cold, almost amused.
"Nice try, Wen-Li," he muttered, his voice dripping with mockery. "But this isn't over."
Wen-Li stepped closer, her gaze sharp and unwavering. "You're coming with us, Agent-90. Whether you like it or not."
The room fell silent as she gestured to her team. Despite their injuries, Robert, Lingaong Xuein, Koizumoto, Demitin, Sakim, and Louisese rose to their feet, battered but resolute. They slowly advanced on Agent-90, who remained shackled yet far from defeated. His smirk never wavered, a silent promise that this encounter was only a temporary setback.
As they began to escort him from the room, Wen-Li turned toward her team, concern briefly crossing her face. "Are you all alright?" she asked, her voice softened with genuine care.
Robert, wincing but standing tall, gave a firm nod. "We're fine, Chief. Just a few bruises."
Lingaong Xuein and the others exchanged weary nods, the pain evident on their faces but masked by their determination. "We'll manage," Lingaong added, her voice steady despite the aches in her body.
Wen-Li offered a reassuring nod in return before turning her attention back to Agent-90. Even bound, there was an unmistakable aura of danger radiating from him, his smirk still firmly in place. It was clear to everyone present—this battle was far from over. Capturing him was only the first move in a much larger, much deadlier game.
As they led Agent-90 out into the hallway, the tension thickened. The air hung heavy with the understanding that their mission had only just begun, and the path ahead would be fraught with peril. They had captured the deadliest man they had ever faced, but in the quiet smirk on his face, they saw the storm that was still to come.
Maria Takahashi, began to recount her harrowing story. Her voice was steady, but the pain beneath her words was palpable.
"It all started before the incident," Maria began. "I live with my son, Kiritaka Takahashi. I divorced my husband—there were issues between us, though we still maintained some connection." She pause briefly, her gaze distant as if reliving each moment. "Kiritaka was... he was an extraordinary boy. Intelligent, selfless, always willing to risk his life to help others. He worked so hard—he just wanted to make me proud."
Her voice faltered as she continued, "But one day, I noticed something was wrong. Kiritaka started acting strangely, withdrawn, as if a shadow had fallen over him. There were bruises on his body when he came home from school. I tried to confront him, but every time, he brushed it off, saying, 'It's just a scratch, Mum.' But I knew better. I could see the pain in his eyes, and I became more and more worried for him."
Maria take a deep breath, her hands shaking slightly as she held the teacup in front of her. "Then one night, Kiritaka told me he was going out to meet a friend. It was late, but he promised he wouldn't be long. I waited... but as the hours passed, I began to worry. It was 10:30 pm when I finally went out to look for him."
Her voice broke as she spoke of that fateful night. "I found him... at Obsidian Run, lying in the middle of the road. His legs... they were covered in blood. It looked like—" she paused, fighting back tears, "—it looked like he had jumped from the cliff." Maria's voice grew thick with grief. "I ran to him, but... but it was too late. Before I could reach him, a truck came speeding down the highway. The tyres... the tyres crushed him—" she shudder, "—and tore him apart. His body... it was shredded, his organs scattered all over the road."
There was a heavy silence in the room. Maria's hands trembled, and she wiped her tears away. "The SSCBF investigated, but they found no leads. They told me it was suicide, that my son had jumped... and they closed the case. But I knew something wasn't right. I couldn't accept it."
Her eyes hardened as she continued, "Two days later, while I was cleaning his room, I found his journal. I wasn't prepared for what I read. Inside, it was clear—Kiritaka had been bullied relentlessly. Oyaka Asano was the ringleader, along with Kowase Fujiwara, Shikimi Nakamura, Kinugawa Hirabayashi, and Ajiki Kobayashi. All of them. It started after Kiritaka saved a classmate who had been about to hang himself in the school restroom."
Maria's voice darkened with anger. "They didn't just bully him—they tortured him. They tied him up, beat him, humiliated him. Kinugawa... he... he punctured Kiritaka's stomach repeatedly with a rod. And they filmed it. They recorded his suffering on their phones." She clenched her fists tightly. "And Oyaka... that monster threatened him. Told him if he breathed a word about the bullying, he'd be in even worse trouble. Kiritaka... my son... endured this torture for days. They killed him, and they did it with cold, calculated cruelty."
Her face grew pale as the memory overwhelmed her. "I was devastated. My son had been murdered, and they got away with it." Maria paused, her voice a whisper. "I started researching them—those bullies. I was determined to find them, to make them pay for what they did. One night, I was at a bar, drinking away my pain when a hostess approached me. She asked me what was wrong. I didn't want to tell her—didn't want to expose my grief to a stranger. But she... she knew. She said, 'I know someone who might help you.' That's how I ended up here."
Her eyes met Madam Di-Xi'an, filled with a deadly resolve. "Those bullies killed my son. I want them to pay. I want justice. And if the law won't do it, I need your help to finish them all."
The room was filled with a heavy, sorrowful silence as Maria finished speaking. The air seemed to thicken with the weight of her words, and Madam Di-Xian sat quietly, her expression one of deep contemplation. She knows that this isn't just a request for revenge. It was a plea from a mother who had lost everything.
Maria handed the journal to Madam Di-Xian with trembling hands. "It's all written in here," she whispered, her voice laced with pain. Her eyes, dark with grief, met Madam Di-Xi'an, and with a shudder, she added, "Oyaka Asano—he's the one you must watch out for. He's cold-blooded. Everyone is terrified of him. He's the mastermind behind this... my son's torment."
With a heavy heart, Maria fell to her knees, desperation etched into every line of her face. "Please, I beg you," she pleaded, her voice cracking. "Bring justice for my son. They murdered him in cold blood... for nothing but their own twisted amusement."
Madam Di-Xian, already resolute in her decision, knelt down beside Maria, lifting her to her feet with gentle strength. "Rest assured, Maria-san," she says firmly, her voice carrying the weight of unshakeable resolve. "I will bring justice for Kiritaka. Those who killed your son will pay for what they've done."
As she rose to her full height, a dark intensity settled over her, her aura suddenly thick with power. Her eyes, normally calm and calculating, now burned with the rage of a mother's fury. "They killed an innocent boy for their own amusement," she murmured, almost to herself. Then, in a voice that echoed with chilling finality, she declared, "I'm coming for you, Oyaka. You'll wish you were dead before I'm through."
Agent-Jun, who had been standing nearby, cleared his throat, his face ashen with unease. "Maria-san's research has given us a head start," Madam Di-Xian continued, her voice softer now, though still edged with steel. "It will make tracking them easier."
But Jun's face remained grim. "Ma'am," he began, his voice hesitant. "I don't know how to say this—"
"What is it, Jun?" Madam Di-Xian interrupted, her brow furrowing in bewilderment.
The tension in the room shifted, the weight of whatever news Jun carried hanging heavy in the air.
"It's about Agent-90," Jun began, his voice sombre. "He's been arrested by the SSCBF."
Madam Di-Xian's eyes widen in shock. The news was unexpected, and for a moment, she was silent, processing the implications. In the cold, dimly lit interrogation room, Agent-90 sat calmly, bound securely to the chair across from Chief Wen-Li. The atmosphere was thick with tension, the air humming with the faint buzz of the overhead lights.
Wen-Li, seated on the opposite side of the metal table, studied him intently. The weight of everything unsaid hung between them, unspoken truths lingering in the silence. Despite the reinforced restraints that bound him, Agent-90 exuded an unnerving calm, his face unreadable, his gaze distant and cold.
"You know why you're here," Wen-Li said, her voice steady but laced with intensity. "You're responsible for the deaths of two SSCBF chairmen, as well as the late Chief Wen-Luo and Lieutenant Ren-Li."
Agent-90 remained impassive, his eyes fixed on a point beyond her as though her words held no meaning. The lack of response stirred a flicker of frustration within Wen-Li, but she fought to maintain her composure. She needed answers, and she wasn't going to let his stoic silence stop her.
"Why did you do it?" she pressed, her voice growing sharper. "What motive did you have to kill the late Chief Wen-Luo and Lieutenant Ren-Li? And the chairmen—why were they targeted for assassination?"
Still, he gave no reply. His face remained cast in shadow, unmoving, as though the gravity of her accusations were beneath his notice. The stillness in the room became deafening, every second that passed seeming deliberate, as though he were playing a game—one that Wen-Li refused to lose.
Leaning forward, her voice now edged with a growing impatience, Wen-Li demanded, "Who are you working for? What organisation is behind this? Who are you really?"
At last, Agent-90 moved. He lifted his head slowly, his gaze locking onto hers. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, and the chill that ran down Wen-Li's spine was immediate. His stare was not that of a criminal, nor of a man seeking vengeance. It was something far more terrifying—utter detachment, as though he were looking through her rather than at her.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. His voice was low, cold, and hauntingly calm. "You will see the truth."
The words hung in the air like a warning, sending a tremor of unease through Wen-Li. His smirk, small and barely perceptible, was enough to ignite a rare sensation within her—fear. Despite her years of experience and her rigorous training, there was something about Agent-90 that unsettled her in a way no one else had.
"Truth?" she repeat, her voice betraying a flicker of unease. "What truth? What are you talking about?"
Agent-90 did not elaborate. His smirk remaine, a silent taunt. It is the smirk, more than his words, that left Wen-Li feeling shaken. He seemed certain, as if the outcome of whatever he had set in motion was inevitable. For the first time in her career, Wen-Li felt a surge of uncertainty she couldn't ignore.
Her hands clenched into fists as she tried to mask her frustration. "You think this is a game, don't you?" she said, her voice hardening. "You think you can toy with us—kill our officers, assassinate our leaders—and walk away?"
Agent-90's smirk faded, and he resumed his silence, leaving Wen-Li with more questions than answers. She stood abruptly, her frustration barely contained. "This isn't over," she warned, her tone laced with determination. "Whatever you're planning, whatever you think will happen—we will stop it. And we will find out who you're working for."
As she turned to leave, Agent-90's voice cut through the silence once more. "You will see the truth," he repeated, his tone final and unnervingly calm.
Wen-Li pause for a moment, the chill of his words lingering in the air. The door clicked shut behind her, and she took a steadying breath, the weight of the encounter settling heavily on her shoulders. Agent-90 wasn't just a criminal—he was something far more dangerous. Whatever he was planning, Wen-Li had the sinking feeling that the SSCBF was far from prepared for what was coming.
Meanwhile, back at headquarters, Madam Di-Xian exhaled slowly, processing the news of Agent-90's capture. "If Agent-90 has been arrested, then we need to take the next step," she said firmly. "Jun, you and Farhan will handle this case."
She picked up her phone, dialling Farhan. "I need you on this," she told him, her voice calm but firm. On the other end, Farhan responded, his voice filled with determination. "I'm in," he said. His tone was grave, his eyes cold with resolve.
In the shadows of a nearby alleyway, an informant approached, whispering about Oyaka Asano's actions. "He's been doing this for a while," the informant said grimly.
"What?" Madam Di-Xian's voice cut through the air like a knife, her eyes narrowing in anger.
"In elementary school, Oyaka threatened his homeroom teacher by showing him a photo of his daughter, warning that both his daughter and wife would face trouble if he didn't comply. As for Kiritaka, his mother… What can I say... she worked as a prostitute. She never wanted to, but her boss forced her into that horrific life. Oyaka, being the cold-hearted person he is, somehow got hold of a video of her and used it to blackmail Kiritaka. He threatened that if Kiritaka didn't jump from the cliff, the video of his mother would be leaked.
Kiritaka, in a desperate attempt to protect his mother's honour, sacrificed his life. That's why Maria came to you for help. She knew that if she went to the SSCBF, they would side with Oyaka, not her. He's a truly ruthless individual, and even his own friends live in fear of him. One more to add is that he is the member of anti-bullying campaige of his school, even a popular as well girls like him the mostt"
"That damned bastard!" snarled Agent-Jun, his voice seething with fury.
"We need to calculate our next step carefully. Be prepared," replied Madam Di-Xian, her tone measured, but her eyes flashed with a cold determination.
It was a fateful night in Duskhaven, where the city itself seemed to breathe despair. The streets, narrow and labyrinthine, twisted through the decaying buildings that leans precariously over alleyways. Broken windows, either shattered or boarded up, concealed the grim secrets festering within. The dim street lights flickered sporadically, casting a feeble orange glow that barely pierced the suffocating darkness. Most of Duskhaven was cloaked in shadow, with only the distant neon signs of illicit businesses and rundown bars offering faint glimpses of life.
The night air was thick with a metallic tang, a lingering remnant of the old factories that still belched smoke on the city's fringes. The echo of dripping water from rusted gutters and cracked pipes punctuated the eerie silence. Occasionally, the sharp crack of a distant gunshot or the muffled cry of someone unseen would pierce the stillness, a stark reminder that in Duskhaven, the notion of safety was nothing more than a cruel illusion.
Shadowy figures skulked at the edges of the district, darting between the forgotten machinery and abandoned train tracks that crisscrossed the industrial wasteland. The faint hum of illegal generators powering hidden operations thrummed in the background, yet no one knew exactly what those operations entailed. This was a place where the line between the living and the dead was blurred, where lawlessness reigned supreme.
Meanwhile, across town, the quiet around Kiritaka Takahashi's house on the outskirts of Duskhaven was suffocating, the kind of silence that precedes catastrophe. The air was heavy, laden with a sinister stillness. The moon's pale light struggled to break through the dense blanket of clouds, casting long, distorted shadows that draped ominously over the property. It was in this darkness that Kinugawa, a hulking figure of brute strength, moved like a phantom. His massive frame blended effortlessly with the night as he approached the house.
With a deliberate, callous movement, Kinugawa shattered a window, the brittle glass crunching under his boots as he stepped inside. He prowled through the house with grim intent, his cold eyes scanning every detail as he made his way toward the living room. His gaze fell upon a family photo perched on the mantelpiece, capturing the once-happy faces of Kiritaka Takahashi, his wife, and their child.
Disgust contorted Kinugawa's face. He picked up the photo, spat on it with contempt, and hurled it to the floor. The glass splintered on impact, shattering the image beneath it. The family's faces, once preserved in a tender moment, now lay fragmented beneath shards of broken glass.
"Pathetic," Kinugawa sneered, his fingers twitching with dark anticipation. He wasn't here merely to destroy memories—he was here to end lives. His expression darkened with malevolent glee as he turned his gaze toward the bedrooms. His next move was clear: he would eliminate them all. The Takahashi family's time had run out.
From the shadows, there was a flicker of movement. Kinugawa froze, his instincts sharp, eyes darting across the room. Two figures emerged silently from the darkness—Agent-Jun and Agent-Farhan. Their faces were impassive, their movements precise. Like predators lying in wait, they had been watching him all along.
A sneer curled across Kinugawa's lips, his confidence unshaken by their appearance. "You think you can stop me?" he growled, his voice low and menacing, reverberating with his brute strength. "I'll crush you both."
With a guttural roar, Kinugawa charged, fists swinging with terrifying force, but his raw power was no match for the agents' disciplined precision. Agent-Jun moved like a shadow, effortlessly sidestepping the attack. In a swift, seamless motion, he struck Kinugawa's ribs with a calculated blow, the sickening crack of bone echoing in the dim room. Kinugawa grunted, pain shooting through his side, yet his fury only intensified. He swung wildly at Agent-Farhan, but Farhan, too, was a step ahead. He dodged easily and delivered a sharp, well-aimed kick to Kinugawa's knee, sending the hulking man stumbling backwards.
Kinugawa let out a furious bellow, but frustration seeped into his movements. He swung again, and again, each blow missing its mark, his brute strength futile against the agents' controlled fluidity. Agent-Jun's movements were unpredictable, elusive, every strike landing with surgical precision. A brutal punch to Kinugawa's shoulder sent him reeling, gasping as pain radiated through his body. Before he could recover, Agent-Farhan drove his knee into Kinugawa's stomach with bone-crushing force, knocking the wind from his lungs.
The room echoed with the dull thud of breaking bones as the agents dismantled Kinugawa's defences. His towering form crumpled to the floor, utterly defeated, his strength no match for their deadly efficiency. Kinugawa gagged, blood trickling from his mouth as he gasped for air. Panic gripped him.
His vision blurred through the haze of pain, and he gazed up at the two agents standing over him. To Kinugawa, they no longer seemed like men. They were demons—silent, merciless, their cold stares filling him with a dread he had never before known. His body trembled as realisation set in: he had been utterly outmatched.
Agent-Farhan crouched beside him, his black gloves creaking as he tightened them around his fingers. Kinugawa's breath hitched, his body paralysed with fear as Farhan gently placed a gloved hand over his eyes, blocking out the last trace of light. His voice was low, calm, and chilling. "Come to Papa."
Darkness enveloped Kinugawa's world as he slipped into unconsciousness, the cold, pitiless gaze of the agents the last thing he saw before his body collapsed into nothingness.
Moving quickly and with purpose, Agent-Farhan hoisted Kinugawa's limp, broken body from the ground. Meanwhile, Agent-Jun scanned the area through the window, ever vigilant, ensuring no prying eyes had witnessed the scene. Their plan had been executed flawlessly. With silent efficiency, they carried Kinugawa out into the quiet night, towards their waiting vehicle, parked discreetly nearby.
The boot of the car opened with a soft click, and without hesitation, Agent-Farhan deposited Kinugawa's unconscious form inside. The heavy thud of the trunk closing reverberated through the stillness, locking the defeated brute in the cold, suffocating darkness.
Before leaving, Agent-Jun made a detour to find Maria, who had just returned home from work. His tone was urgent yet measured as he delivered the warning. "Don't go back to your house, Maria. You and your husband's lives are in danger now. Stay under our protection until this is over."
At Nakamura's house in Eclipsed City, as midnight approaches, the towering skyscrapers loom like dark sentinels, their neon signs casting eerie glows over the desolate streets below. The sky above is an oppressive void, with the moon barely visible through the thick haze of pollution that smothers the city. No stars pierce the murky clouds; it is as though the very essence of the night has been eclipsed by the city's decay.
Flickering advertisements for luxury brands and underground services flash sporadically, their once-vibrant colours dulled by the grime and filth that clings to every surface. Giant screens sputter with digital images, advertising everything from cybernetic augmentations to illicit black market deals. The air hums with the ever-present drone of electronics and the faint buzz of automated patrol drones gliding through the night.
The streets, wide yet desolate, are void of life, save for the occasional shadowy figure slipping cautiously from one darkened corner to another. Streetlights malfunction in many parts of the city, flickering on and off or extinguished entirely, leaving long stretches of road plunged into impenetrable darkness. Abandoned vehicles line the curbs, their tires slashed, windows shattered—relics of the chaos that seems to simmer endlessly beneath the surface of the city.
The stench of burning rubbish mixes with the acrid fumes of industrial smog, saturating the air with a thick, toxic odour. Puddles of oil and stagnant water pool in the uneven cracks of the asphalt, reflecting the dim glow of distant neon signs or the brief flash of passing vehicles. Distant sirens wail sporadically, blending with the heavy hum of machinery from the industrial zones beyond the city's edge.
Gunfire sporadically cuts through the heavy silence, followed by the distant echoes of gang skirmishes. Yet, in this dark world, such sounds are barely more than background noise—familiar, even comforting, to those who have long grown numb to the ever-present violence.
Inside, Shikimi lounges in her lavishly furnished apartment, dressed in a revealing outfit, a spoiled brat who lives off her parents' wealth and indulges in her whims without consequence. With her parents out of town for work, she revels in her independence, knowing she can do as she pleases. Suddenly, a creaking sound echoes from the hallway. Frowning, Shikimi steps out of her room, confused to find the front door ajar, the wind blowing heavily, stirring the shimmering petals of a crimson lotus that lies scattered near the threshold.
She furrows her brow, perplexed as to why the door is open when she had locked it. But before she can react, Madam Di-Xian steps from the shadows behind her, swift and silent, and snaps her neck with ruthless efficiency.
Meanwhile, in the grim alleyways of Noctum Hollow, Kowase torments a helpless girl, pressing the glowing tip of his cigarette into her stomach as she writhes in pain. He delights in her suffering, feeding off her agony as he prepares to assault her. But before he can act, Agent-Farhan strikes like a viper from the shadows, delivering a devastating blow that knocks Kowase out cold. The girl gasps in relief, but Farhan leans in, his voice low and steady. "Tell no one," he warns before vanishing into the night, having saved her from a predator's grip.
Elsewhere, the flickering streetlights barely illuminate the empty roads as Akiji walks home, oblivious to the danger stalking him. Agent-Jun moves swiftly, looping a rope around Akiji's neck from behind, dragging him into the shadows without a sound.
As night deepens, the final target, Oyaka, emerges from the library where he works part-time. He walks casually, seemingly unaware of the deadly threat looming nearby. The streetlights cast long, twisted shadows as he strides down the pavement, heading for the quiet alley he uses as a shortcut home. Yet, despite his relaxed demeanour, there's an unsettling aura about him, as if he knows what's coming.
From the shadows, Agent-Jun and Agent-Farhan silently track Oyaka's every move, their eyes locked on their target as he crosses the deserted street and enters a narrow alley. They quicken their pace, preparing for the takedown. But as they round the corner—Oyaka is gone.
The agents exchange a glance, bewilderment flashing across their faces. How could he have vanished so quickly? The alley is a dead-end, with no apparent exits. Just as confusion begins to cloud their judgement, a blur of movement appears from behind them.
Oyaka strikes with vicious precision, his face cold and devoid of emotion. Wielding a metallic rod, he swings with brutal force, the first blow landing against Agent-Jun's side with a sickening crack. Jun crumples to the ground, gasping for breath as pain surges through his body. Before Agent-Farhan can react, Oyaka pivots, the rod smashing across his chest, sending him staggering backward.
Farhan steadies himself, his eyes narrowing as he sizes up the enemy. Oyaka moves with methodical intent, his strikes calculated and lethal. He raises the rod high, preparing to land a final, crushing blow on the injured Agent-Jun.
With a fierce swing, Oyaka brought the rod down, fully intent on finishing off Agent-Jun. But just before the strike could land, a shadow shifted at the edge of their vision. Agent-90 appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, his presence sudden and imposing. In a blur of motion, he intercepted the attack, grabbing Oyaka's arm mid-swing with fluid, lightning-fast movements.
Employing Krav Maga with brutal efficiency, Agent-90 twisted Oyaka's wrist, disarming him in an instant. The rod clattered to the ground as Agent-90 spun Oyaka around, locking his arm and slamming him forcefully against the alley wall. In one swift sequence, a knee to Oyaka's midsection was followed by a precise elbow strike to his neck. Oyaka's body went limp, collapsing unconscious before even hitting the ground.
Agent-Jun and Agent-Farhan, still catching their breath, exchanged stunned glances, then looked at Agent-90. The terrifying efficiency with which he had taken Oyaka down left them speechless. The cold, calculated precision of his moves, devoid of hesitation or emotion, removed any doubt about his lethal capabilities.
Agent-90 stands over Oyaka's motionless body, his icy gaze sweeping over the scene. Without uttering a word, he turned his head slightly, his eyes locking with Jun and Farhan. For a fleeting moment, there was an unspoken understanding—Agent-90 wasn't merely an ally or another agent. He was something far more dangerous, a force unto himself.
At the torture chamber, Madam Di-Xian woke the five captives by dousing them with boiling water. Screams of panic erupted, filling the dimly lit room. "Who are you? This is illegal!" Shikimi protested, struggling against the chains that bound her to a metal rod. "Shut up!" Madam Di-Xian barked, before delivering a vicious blow to Shikimi's face with a belt. Blood trickled from her mouth, and she recoiled in pain.
"Shikimi!" Kinugawa cried out, rage boiling over as he twisted to face her captor. "You son of a bitch!" he spat. Agent-Jun, without a moment's hesitation, stepped forward and delivered a punishing punch to Kinugawa's jaw. "Didn't you hear? she said shut up!" Jun's voice was cold and sharp.
Madam Di-Xian's gaze hardened, and she raised a hand to silence the room. "Enough!" she commanded, her voice echoing with authority. The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the laboured breathing of the captives.
She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she addressed them. "I have one question for you all," she began, her voice a deadly whisper. "You murdered Kiritaka Takahashi, your classmate, in cold blood. Do you feel any remorse for what you've done?"
The captives scoffed in unison, their defiance palpable. "It's his fault for getting involved," one of them sneered. "We were just having fun." Their casual indifference was staggering, showing no hint of remorse. Suddenly, Oyaka spoke, his voice cold and emotionless. "He deserved to die," he said, a twisted smile spreading across his face. "He and his family are worthless. His mother's a prostitute—he was a nobody. They don't deserve to live. And when I get out of here, I'll kill all of you." His words were laced with pure malice, his gaze as unfeeling as his heart.
The agents exchanged furious glances, their fists clenching in silent rage. Madam Di-Xian, her expression calm but menacing, approached slowly, her left hand twitching in anticipation. "Oh, so you're the ringleader," she mused, her voice low but deadly. "I can hardly believe your generation produces people like you—those who revel in disrupting society, who delight in hurting others for their own sick amusement." She paused, her eyes darkening as she leaned in closer to Oyaka, her voice turning into a devilish whisper. "You think you're pure-evil? Well, let me tell you—I am the real devil."
Farhan, standing to the side, spoke up. "Madam, Kowase was seen harassing a girl in Noctum Hollow. He burned her with his cigarette."
Without hesitation, Madam Di-Xian turned her icy gaze toward Kowase, who was shaking in fear. With swift and brutal precision, she drove her finger into his eye, blinding him instantly. Kowase let out an ear-piercing scream, writhing in agony. "You won't be needing your eyes anymore," she said coldly, her tone devoid of any sympathy.
Kowase, now blinded and writhing in pain, spewed a stream of obscenities, his bravado crumbling under the weight of his suffering. Meanwhile, the others began to beg for mercy, their arrogant façades dissolving into desperate pleas. All except Oyaka. He remained silent, his face stoic, refusing to show fear or weakness, though the malevolent glint in his eyes never wavered.
Madam Di-Xian clapped her hands twice, and with deadly precision, Agent-90 grabbed both Kowase and Akiji by their heads, slamming them violently against the wall. The force was brutal, and in an instant, their heads were crushed beyond recognition, leaving a horrific splatter of blood and bone. Without a hint of hesitation, Madam Di-Xian turned her attention to Shikimi, her gaze murderous.
"Now it's your turn," she said coldly, her voice a chilling whisper.
With deliberate cruelty, she exposed Shikimi's abdomen and forcibly inserted a tube through her umbilicus. Shikimi gasped in pain, her body convulsing as the tube burrowed through her flesh. On the other end of the tube was a jar, filled with writhing ants. Madam Di-Xian lit the jar's edge, prompting the ravenous ants to march through the tube, invading Shikimi's body.
Shikimi's screams filled the room as the ants burrow deeper, destroying her organs from within. Her mouth foamed as ants crawles out from her ears, nose, and eyes, devouring her flesh and bones. It wasn't long before her body became a hollow, twitching shell.
"Shikimi!" Kinugawa screamed in terror, his voice trembling with panic.
Madam Di-Xian turned her gaze to him, her expression darkening. "What's the matter, Kinugawa? Afraid it's your turn?" Her tone was taunting, filled with wicked delight. Farhan and Jun stepped forward, each armed with heavy hammers, and with a swift, brutal motion, they shattered Kinugawa's knees. The sickening sound of breaking bones echoed through the chamber as Kinugawa howled in agony, his body collapsing under the weight of the pain.
"It will be the same treatment for you as Shikimi," Madam Di-Xian said, her voice cold and detached, "but with a twist."
At her signal, Jun jammed a tube into Kinugawa's rectum. On the other end of the tube was a jar filled with rats, their sharp teeth gnashing in hunger. With a flick of her wrist, Madam Di-Xian unleashed them. The rats scurried through the tube, invading Kinugawa's body from within, gnawing and tearing at his insides. He screamed in unrelenting agony as the rats ate him alive, tearing through his internal organs.
As the torture reached its horrific crescendo, Jun raised his katana high, the blade gleaming in the dim light. With one swift, decisive motion, he sliced through Kinugawa's torso, severing him cleanly in two. Guts spilled across the floor, along with the frenzied rats, now drenched in blood.
The room fell silent, save for the sound of the rats skittering across the blood-soaked floor. Madam Di-Xian watched, her expression devoid of remorse, as the remains of Kinugawa lay scattered before her. Her cold, calculating gaze moved to the others, their fate sealed in the unforgiving grip of her ruthless judgement.
"Now, it's your turn," Madam Di-Xian said softly, her voice dripping with venom. She didn't wait for a response. Turning on her heel, her long coat trailing behind her, she strode towards the door. Pausing for a moment, she glanced back at her agents.
"Take good care of him," she ordered, her tone sharp, cutting through the tension in the air.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Agent-90, his voice devoid of emotion, yet there was a chilling satisfaction lurking beneath his words.
"With pleasure," Agent-Jun added, his expression darkening as he advanced towards Oyaka.
Farhan stepped forward, a menacing grin stretching across his face. "Time to die," he said, his words thick with malice.
As Madam Di-Xian vanished into the shadows of the hallway, leaving the room behind, the atmosphere grew heavy. The silence that followed was thick with impending violence, and the three agents encircled Oyaka like predators about to pounce.
Agent-90 moved with a cold, deliberate precision. He brings out, and draw a handheld rotating saw. The sharp, metallic whir of the blade filled the room, its sound echoing ominously off the walls. The teeth of the saw glinted under the dim light, spinning rapidly as Agent-90 slowly raised it towards Oyaka.
For the first time, Oyaka's smug confidence faltered. His eyes, once cold and calculating, widened in terror as the saw inched closer to his face. Farhan and Jun tightened their grips on him, holding him firmly in place, their expressions betraying no sympathy. The mechanical growl of the saw reverberated through the room as it hovered closer and closer to Oyaka's skin.
"Let's see if you're still smirking after this," Agent-Jun muttered under his breath, his voice thick with dark intent.
With excruciating slowness, Agent-90 pressed the saw against Oyaka's face, the spinning blade grazing his skin. A sharp gasp escaped Oyaka as pain seared through him. He tried to hold back, his jaw clenched tightly, but the agony was unbearable.
Then, with grim determination, Agent-90 pressed the saw deeper.
Oyaka's composure shattered. A guttural scream tore from his throat as the blade ripped through flesh, sending a torrent of blood spraying across the room. The once-sterile walls were now streaked with crimson, a macabre canvas painted in violence. The grinding of bone against metal filled the air, mingling with Oyaka's agonised wails.
Blood splattered across Agent-90's face, but his expression didn't change. He remained eerily calm, his focus unbroken as the saw continued its grisly work. Jun and Farhan were equally unmoved, their faces and uniforms now soaked in blood. If anything, the sight of the carnage only seemed to fuel their cruelty.
Oyaka's body convulsed in the chair, his face contorted in agony. The arrogance, the smirk—it had all vanished, replaced by sheer terror.
"Please…" Oyaka gasped through ragged breaths, his voice barely a whisper. But there was no mercy to be found.
Farhan grabbed a fistful of Oyaka's hair, yanking his head back violently. "Begging already?" he sneered. "It's too late for that."
Agent-90's hand remained steady, guiding the saw with chilling precision. Blood continued to gush from Oyaka's face, pooling on the floor beneath him. His screams grow weaker, his body slumping as his strength ebbed away.
At last, with one final, agonising cut, the saw went silent. Agent-90 pulled the blood-soaked blade back, wiping the gore from his hands with cold detachment. Oyaka's body hung limp in the chair, his breathing shallow and laboured, his face unrecognisable—a mutilated ruin of flesh and blood.
Jun and Farhan released their hold, stepping back to survey their handiwork. The room, now painted in deep red, was eerily silent once more. Only Oyaka's faint, dying breaths broke the quiet.
Agent-90 glanced at his comrades, his voice as emotionless as ever. "It's done."
Later at night, Madam Di-Xian called Maria. "Ma'am, it's all done," she informed her with finality.
In the dead of night, the three agents drive deep into the forest, the bodies of the bullies bundled in the boot of their car. Beneath the shadow of the trees, they set the corpses alight, watching in silence as the flames devoured the evidence of their brutal justice. The smell of burning flesh mingled with the smoke from their cigarettes, drifting lazily into the night sky.
Jun exhaled a long plume of smoke, turning to Agent-90 with a raised eyebrow. "Mate, how did you escape from SSCBF? That place is a fortress."
"Yeah, how?" added Farhan, curiosity piqued.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Agent-90's mouth. "I'll tell you what happened," he said, his tone low and laden with mystery.
The fire crackled in the darkness, and the agents listened intently, knowing that whatever story Agent-90 was about to share would be nothing short of extraordinary.