Kumojiro took in the chaos around him, the screaming, the scramblind crowd and the annoyingly loud blaring music echoing through the room. The relentless beat was grating on his nerves, so he kicked the decapitated Viper's head straight into one of the speakers. The head crashed through the equipment, silencing it, though the rest still pounded away.
'Fuck's sake.'
He sighed. Before he could destroy another, two thugs charged toward him, weapons in hand.
One held a crowbar, swinging wildly. The other had broken a bottle, gripping the jagged edges and lunging forward to stab Kumo. Kumojiro quickly stepped to the side, avoiding the crowbar's arc and parried the bottle as he twisted his body, bringing his katana down in a smooth slash across the crowbar-wielder's chest. He then pivoted, throwing a powerful sidekick to the second thug's stomach, launching him backward into a nearby table, which shattered under his weight.
'What was D thinking, sending me here? Could this really be their main hideout? Could they really be the one responsible for Oswin's death? They're practically running from him!'
His thoughts were quite truthful, these thugs were bottom-feeders. Most of the Vipers had fled, fearful of him. Kumo spotted another man rushing at him, and simply hurled a kunai, embedding it in the thug's knee. The man collapsed, crying out in pain.
"Oi, bastard!"
Kumojiro turned, his eyes narrowing at the voice. A thug with a shotgun had rounded the corner, aiming. Instinctively, Kumojiro dove behind a couch just as the Viper fired, the steel rounds tearing through a nearby pillar like paper. He glanced at the rounds embedded in the stone, analyzing them.
'Steel rounds. And that barrel…reinforced to reduce stress. Guess they're more advanced than I thought.'
He waited for the thug to approach, then gripped the edge of the couch and flipped it toward his attacker, knocking the shotgun from his hands. In that same motion, Kumo lunged forward, driving his elbow into the man's throat, crushing his windpipe. He then retrieved a kunai and drove it into the thug's forehead, pinning him to the ground. As he went to retrieve his kunai, he looked up just in time to see another thug leveling a shotgun at him from across the room.
'Shit.'
Kumojiro rolled to the side as the blast shredded the ground where he'd just been. This shotgun was equipped with a red-dot sight, giving the thug better aim. Taking cover behind a column, he watched the man reload. The moment the thug peeked out to aim, Kumojiro sent a kunai flying, striking the man between the eyes. The thug dropped instantly, and a scream echoed from the corner, a woman who hadn't managed to escape. The thugs blood sprayed onto her.
Kumojiro moved swiftly, grabbing her and pulling her behind cover. She struggled in his grasp, her face pale and eyes wide with terror.
"...C-Calm down. It's...safer here. I think. Not entirely, but I'm not here to hurt you. If you stay exposed like this though, the next shot could go through your skull." It came out blunt, more a threat than a reassurance. His expressionless really eyes didn't help.
The woman's tears began streaming faster as her body shook harder. Kumojiro's eyes widened, realizing he'd only made it worse.
"N-no, no, I meant...The exit's right over there, see? Just...breathe. Breathe in and out. You have to stay calm. Don't faint on me. Please." His tone was gentler this time, his words carrying a hint of warmth, even if forced.
The woman looked to where he pointed, then back at him, stammering, "Alright..."
She got to her feet, unsteady, nearly tripping as she stumbled toward the exit. Her act of listening even in panic was truly only to get away from Kumo. Kumojiro either way sighed in relief, then reset his expression, turning back to the fight. More Vipers were coming, this time armed with heavier firepower.
Spotting a dance pole in the center of the room, Kumojiro dashed toward it as bullets flew past. He leaped, grabbing the pole and spinning around it, using the momentum to deliver a powerful kick to the chest of one thug, sending him crashing into a nearby table. Another thug, wielding a chain, swung it toward Kumojiro's legs.
Kumojiro dodged, grabbing a nearby chair and using it as a shield, letting the chain wrap around the chair legs. With a sharp yank, he pulled the thug off balance, then slammed the chair into his face, knocking him out cold.
He kicked over a nearby table, using it as a cover as more gunfire erupted. Peeking over the edge, he spotted a thug with a semi-automatic rifle, spraying bullets like a madman.
'Absolutely no precision. I can predict the trajectory...just need the right angle and object.'
His eyes scanned around the room, until they landed on the bar. He toop a deep breath and sprinted toward it, sliding across the slick surface as bullets zipped over his head.
'Close...'
Grabbing a bottle of liquor, he flung it toward the rifle-wielding thug. The glass shattered against the thug's face, dazing him long enough for Kumojiro to close the distance and drive his katana through the man's chest. He then pulled it out, letting the corpse fall on the ground with a soft thud.
As he straightened, the scene around him...was one of carnage. Blood pooled on the floor, and he could feel the weight of his actions but not guilt. These men had earned their fate. Wiping the blood from his face, Kumojiro's gaze settled on a sturdy door across the room, framed by garish velvet curtains leading to what looked like a VIP section.
'Only way leading to the back.'
As he walked toward it, a soft whimper broke through the silence. Kumojiro turned, finding a young woman huddled, her face blank with exhaustion and fear. She looked barely conscious, her brown hair falling over her face, her clothes torn and bloodied. Something about her didn't belong here; she seemed out of place, forced into this hell.
He approached, crouching down. Gently, he moved the strands of hair from her face. She looked young, too young for this. He didn't know what to say, but he forced himself to speak.
"Hey...Why are you here? You shouldn't be here. You're...too young for a place like this." he murmured, trying to keep his voice calm, almost soothing.
The girl blinked, her lips trembling. "P-please...no more. Don't...don't kill me. I...I needed the money..." She coughed, her voice slurred, barely coherent. Her eyes were unfocused, looking through him rather than at him.
'Stratus Point…It's hard to make a living here without doing something desperate. Especially if you're not born to at least middle to upper-class parents. And people like this place prey on that. They tell you the only way to survive is to sell yourself.'
But instead of anger, he forced a gentle smile. He tried to channel a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. "Hey, hey. Look. I'm not here to hurt you, alright? You don't belong in a place like this, it's not a place you deserve to be at. I'd even say you're...lucky I came. You might not have made it out of here otherwise. But hey, let's not dwell on the dark things, alright?"
She looked at him with lingering fear. Trying to reassure her somehow, he got an idea. He reached into his crossbody bag, pulling out a handful of cash and placing it in her trembling hands. Her gaze shifted from the money to him, her expression showing signs of confusion.
"Look...I know it's not much, but take it. I want this...uh, let this be a reminder. A start. There are better ways to live than this. Ways that won't leave you feeling trapped or empty...around people like these guys. Money shouldn't be made in ways that make you feel dread, fear...sadness. It should be something that brings you joy, peace. Safe and hopeful. And that's what I want you to remember. Remember that...you're worth so much more than this dark place."
She looked at him, her fear fading as she clutched the money. His awkward smile and attempt at warmth struck something deep, breaking through her shock. Tears welled up again, but this time, her face softened with gratitude. As if these words she'd never heard before.
"Thank you..." she whispered, a faint smile appearing.
Kumojiro blinked, momentarily startled by her gratitude. "Uh, yeah. Don't mention it."
As she stood, wobbling slightly, he reached out to steady here. "Head for the exit, call the cops on your way out. And try not to breathe too much of the air around that grass. It's synthetic. It'll make you feel worse. Just...Just get outside, alright?"
She nodded, sniffling, and started to leave. But at the door, she turned, waving shyly. "Good luck..."
Kumojiro nodded in return, a faint glimmer of warmth flickering in his expression. Good luck...The words felt almost surreal coming from a stranger he'd just saved in the middle of his massacre.
'...I guess purging evil doesn't mean I can't help people along the way.'
But the mission called. He turned back to the velvet-curtained door. His hand brushed it aside, stepping through into the unknown.