Kumojiro moved deeper into the narrow alleyway known as Cobra's Nest, thoughts drifting to the task ahead. What weapons and connections could they have now, these lowlifes, to take out Oswin?
'Oswin must have had top-tier security...Every corrupt corporation in Cipher City wanted him dead. Even the ones who aren't corrupt! One wrong move, and they might see everything they've ever built crumple down.' Kumojiro thought.
That was the part that bugged him. If Oswin had such high security, how could some nobody gang like the Steel Vipers possibly pull it off?
Kumojiro moved deeper, his mind turning over this puzzle, until he reached the alley's end. There, two Steel Viper members stood guard in front of a thick metal door. Both wore the Vipers' signature green jackets, each emblazoned with viper tattoos that crawled up their necks and arms. The taller one, lanky with sunken eyes and a sneer, noticed him first.
"Oi, mate, where the bloody hell d'ya think you're goin'?"
Australian accent. Really? The guy's hand drifted to his waistband, where a pistol handle poked out beneath his jacket. The second one, a bulky guy with a shaved head and tattoos coiling down his arms, eyed Kumojiro with a smug grin.
"Nah, nah, this ain't yer place, chump. Best turn 'round 'fore ya get a new hole in yer head."
Kumojiro tilted his head, looking at them with mild confusion. Their slang was almost incomprehensible.
'What the hell are they even saying?'
But he got the gist. They were telling him to back off. Fine. He'd make this quick. Ignoring their warnings, he shrugged off his bag, unzipping it slowly.
The two exchanged uneasy glances, their postures shifting. It wasn't just because he'd taken off his bag. Kumojiro's eyes were cold, detached. They couldn't read him, and it unnerved them.
Without a word, Kumojiro reached into his bag and strapped a utility belt around his waist. Then his hand found the hilt, a plain, unassuming piece of metal to most eyes.
The lanky thug sneered, his confusion turning to anger.
"Oi, what the f-"
The words barely left his mouth before a kunai whizzed through the air. In a heartbeat, the blade sank into his skull with a sickening thud. The life left his eyes as they rolled to the back of his head, and his body crumpled to the ground.
The second thug's eyes went wide. His hand scrambled for his gun, but Kumojiro was already in motion, dropping his bag and pressing a button on the hilt. A blade shot out, gleaming under the dim alley light. The thug's voice shook as he fumbled with his gun.
"Y-You bloody psycho! You're dead, mate, you're-"
One swift slash silenced him. He collapsed, blood pooling beneath his fallen form. Kumojiro sighed, glancing at the metal door they'd been guarding. He hoped there weren't too many more guns inside.
The door loomed before him, a massive cobra with ruby eyes painted across it, staring back at him with cold, unblinking malice. He retracted his blade, hooking it back onto his belt, and stepped forward. But when he tried the handle, it didn't budge. Locked from the inside.
'Locked. Guess I'll have to already waste my energy on something like this...'
Kumojiro took a steadying breath, then gripped the door's edge. Metal groaned in protest as he forced it open, his strength tearing it from its hinges with a screech that echoed through the alley. Finally, he ripped it free and tossed it aside, stepping through the entrance.
What he first noticed was the feeling of the concrete beneath him. The ground under his feet felt...soft? Kumojiro glanced down. Grass? The scene before him wasn't what he expected. Instead of the gritty hideout he'd pictured, he found himself standing in what looked like an open field. Grass stretched out around him, crisscrossed by narrow paths leading to multiple doors. Scattered trees dotted the landscape, their leaves casting faint shadows.
'Huh...place looks better than I expected.'
He crouched, tearing a handful of grass and bringing it to his nose. The scent was...off. Faintly chemical, sweet in a way that felt wrong. A drug, something meant to make people feel euphoric, disoriented. A substance used for...non-consensual purposes. The Vipers were likely desensitized to it, but any unlucky soul brought here would be vulnerable, suggestible.
Before he could process it further, he heard footsteps. Several Steel Vipers had gathered, drawn by the sound of his forced entry. They gaped at him, eyes wide. Did this guy just tear a door off its hinges?
"Oi! Look over there!"
One of them pointed at the bodies of the two guards. Any doubts they'd had about Kumojiro's threat level vanished in that instant. Weapons drawn, they slithered forward, stalking him like serpents across the eerie, drug-laced grass.
Kumojiro rose to his full height, his expression still impassive. He reached for the hilt once more, extending the blade in one smooth motion.
This was going to get messy.