Chronos sat in front of a sleek terminal, scrolling through a list of available missions. Most of the E-rank and D-rank jobs were mundane at best—bodyguard work for wealthy families or protecting the president's son. The completion rewards for these tasks were meager: 70,000 yen and 1,000 reward points.
Lame, Chronos thought, about to dismiss the bodyguard assignment when his eyes caught a new D-rank mission flashing on the screen.
The description read: Black Spider Gang - Junior members had kidnapped the child of a rich family and were holding her hostage. The mission? Terminate the criminals and return the child unharmed. The reward? 1,600,000 yen and 5,000 reward points.
Chronos's eyes narrowed. This was a job worth taking.
Without hesitation, he tapped the screen and accepted the mission. The details were already flashing in his mind as he moved swiftly through the facility, his footsteps echoing in the quiet halls.
He arrived in a massive underground garage—lined with rows of sleek cars, motorbikes, helicopters, and tanks. The sheer scale of the operation impressed him, but his focus remained sharp. He spotted a black electric ninja bike in the far corner, its polished frame gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights.
He walked toward it, pulling his agency ID card from his pocket. The card, unlike any ordinary ID, was capable of transforming into any form of identification he needed—national ID, debit card, anything. This card also gave him access to a special bank account set up by the agency, providing him with resources at his disposal from any bank.
With a swift motion, he placed the card on the bike's screen. The vehicle powered on instantly, a soft hum filling the garage as it came to life.
Chronos mounted the bike, feeling the vibrations of its engine beneath him. He revved it up and shot through the underground tunnel, emerging into the light of day in a nearby parking garage. The city of Tokyo stretched out before him, a labyrinth of steel and concrete.
He revved the bike's engine again, feeling the thrill of the ride surge through him. He sped toward the other side of Tokyo, his thoughts focused on the mission at hand.
But in the back of his mind, there was always the one thing that drove him—the man who had killed his parents. Rogue Agent Shadow, leader of the Scorpion gang, a former S-rank agent of the Zentarō, and a shadow in every sense of the word. He was untouchable, a ghost in the system.
But not for long, Chronos thought, determination burning in his eyes as the bike tore through the streets. One day, I'll make him pay.
Chronos's mind wandered back to his childhood, remembering the man who had taken him in—the leader of the Viper gang, a figure who had sworn to help Chronos exact his revenge. The man was known only as Hercules. His birth name was a mystery to everyone, even Chronos. To the gang, Hercules was more than just a leader—he was a father figure. He had no children of his own, and he treated Chronos like the son he never had, raising him in the ways of the assassin.
Under Hercules's watchful eye, Chronos mastered countless martial arts and honed his killing skills to perfection. By the time he was seventeen, Chronos had surpassed every member of the gang, earning a senior position while carefully keeping his identity hidden from the Zentarō. His rise through the ranks was swift, and the number of bodies he left behind was unmatched.
Now, he was ready to take on the Black Spider Gang.
When Chronos arrived at the mission site, he was met with an unexpected sight: the place was surrounded by cops. His hand reached instinctively for the police badge he kept hidden in his jacket. "Police!" he yelled, flashing the badge.
The officers, seemingly unconcerned by his presence, allowed him through the barrier. He moved swiftly into the abandoned warehouse, his eyes scanning the area with practiced precision.
It was then he noticed the twenty armed men hiding in the shadows, quickly surrounding him. The leader—a massive, muscular man—stepped forward with a mocking grin on his face.
"I told you those fools would send one of their stupid agents over," one of the gang members sneered.
The leader scoffed, "They sent only one? They must be underestimating our abilities."
Chronos's lips twitched into a bored smile. "Surrender now, and I won't have to kill all of you," he said, his voice cold and detached.
The men burst out laughing. One of them mocked, "What can you, a mere..."
Before the man could finish, Chronos was already in motion. With blinding speed, he leaped toward him, drawing a sleek dagger from his hoodie pocket. In one fluid motion, Chronos slashed the man's throat, sending him collapsing to the floor in a pool of blood.
"One down, nineteen more to go. What a drag," Chronos muttered, his expression still impassive as the man gasped for air.
Another gang member charged at him, swinging wildly. Chronos effortlessly sidestepped the attack, his fist slamming into the man's stomach with a force that made him cough up blood. With a swift twist, Chronos drove the dagger into his skull, the man's body going limp in an instant.
"Come on, you guys should hurry up and die. Seems I'm wasting my time on you weaklings," Chronos said, his voice laced with impatience as he surveyed the remaining gang members.
The sight of their fallen comrades sent a wave of panic through the remaining gang members. In a blur, they charged toward Chronos, weapons drawn. But the leader merely stood at the back, grinning as if he knew what was coming.
Chronos, unfazed, reacted with lightning speed. One man lunged at him, and Chronos slid the dagger into his groin with a sickening precision. The man dropped to his knees, clutching himself in agony. Without hesitation, Chronos drove the dagger into his chest, twisting it for good measure.
He swiftly drew the katana from the man's side and decapitated him with a clean swing, the head falling to the ground with a dull thud. Another man rushed him, but Chronos was already one step ahead, stabbing him in the skull so hard it shattered like glass.
Chronos's eyes scanned the battlefield with cold detachment as he severed another man's torso in one fluid motion. The man's intestines spilled out, his body crumpling to the ground like a broken doll.
A gunshot rang out. Chronos barely moved as the bullet whizzed past him. His reflexes were so fast, he caught the trajectory in a split second and ducked just in time. Without hesitation, he hurled his dagger, its blade slicing through the air with deadly accuracy. The man who had fired the shot dropped to the ground, the dagger embedded deep in his skull.
Chronos continued his deadly dance—dodging, shooting, stabbing—cutting down one gang member after another. One man lunged at him from behind with a knife, but Chronos spun around, shooting him square in the eye before he even had time to react.
By the time Chronos reached the leader, the floor was a river of blood. His clothes were drenched, but not a single drop of it was his. The leader, his face twisted in fear, fell to his knees and begged for mercy.
Chronos stood over him, his gaze cold and unflinching. "I gave you two choices," Chronos said in a voice void of emotion. "The easy way or the hard way. You chose the hard way. Now, I cannot show you mercy. I am Chronos the Merciless."
With a swift, almost casual movement, Chronos swung his katana and cleaved the leader in half, watching as the man's body collapsed to the floor in two distinct pieces.
Chronos stood there for a moment, his breath steady despite the chaos that surrounded him. His speed, strength, and stamina had noticeably improved—his training was beginning to bear fruit.
He took a moment to collect himself, his eyes scanning the now-silent warehouse. As he moved deeper into the building, a sudden loud thump echoed through the space. His senses went on high alert as he rushed toward the noise.
There, on the floor, lay a small girl—her short pink hair and bright pink eyes barely visible under the gag and ropes binding her to a chair. Chronos's expression softened for a brief moment, the cold assassin within him pushed aside by a rare sense of compassion.
Without hesitation, he cut the ropes and removed the gag. The girl was trembling in fear when she saw him but he assured her he was there to help. Chronos gently scooped her up into his arms, cradling her with care.
He carried her out of the warehouse and to the waiting police officers, where her parents—blonde and pink-haired—stood behind the barrier, their faces filled with worry. The moment they saw their daughter, their eyes flooded with tears of relief.
But before they could even thank him, Chronos was gone. Like a shadow in the night, he vanished without a trace, leaving only the whispers of his presence behind.
After completing the mission, Chronos received a notification from his bank. 1,600,000 yen deposited. He checked his points: 5,000 points. His expression was indifferent, but he couldn't help but feel a flicker of satisfaction.
The task was over, but the job was far from done. Chronos rode his bike to a nearby grocery store, picking up the essentials before heading back to his apartment.
His apartment was modest—a standard one-bedroom with a bathroom. The place reflected his current rank as a D agent. Higher ranks were rewarded with bigger and better living spaces: C ranks had luxury apartments, B ranks owned sprawling houses, A ranks lived in penthouses, and the legendary S ranks were given massive estates. But for now, this was where he called home.
He turned the lights on and froze. Sitting on his couch was a man Chronos knew all too well—Hercules. The man who had raised him, trained him, and molded him into the weapon he was today.
Chronos stared, his expression hardening. "How did you get in here?" he growled, irritation lacing his voice.
Hercules, unfazed, gave a casual shrug. "You talk like you've forgotten I taught you everything you know. Doesn't matter. Sit down."
Chronos tossed his groceries onto the kitchen counter and slowly walked over to sit on the couch. His patience was already wearing thin. "So, what do you want?" he asked, his tone colder than usual.
Hercules chuckled, unfazed. "Won't you ask how I'm doing?"
Chronos scoffed, throwing his hands up. "Hey, genius! Ever crossed your dumb little mind that I might be too old for that crap?"
Hercules smirked, clearly enjoying the banter. "As a matter of fact, it has crossed my mind. But I just love seeing you annoyed." He sat up, his expression turning more serious. "Anyway, how's the mission going?"
Chronos leaned back, a tired sigh escaping him as he ran his fingers through his hair. "There's good news and bad news. The good news is I successfully got into the Zentarō."
Hercules raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "So, what's the bad news?"
Chronos glared at him, annoyance creeping into his voice. "I was getting to that before you so rudely interrupted me. Bad news is... only S ranks have access to the Zentarō's top-secret files."
Hercules stood up, his expression hardening. "Then become an S rank," he said, his voice firm. "Get that information. And for once, make me proud."
Chronos watched as Hercules walked toward the door, his words lingering in the air. The relationship between them had always been strained, one built on the unspoken truth that no matter how far Chronos went, Hercules would always withhold the praise he deserved.
Chronos, still staring at the empty doorway, clenched his fists. Despite all his accomplishments, the old man had never once acknowledged him as he had hoped. The thought stung more than he cared to admit.