The group moved silently through the dark night.
Swish.
A dagger suddenly pierced the back of one of the group members.
Ahhhh!
A sharp scream tore through the silence.
Everyone jolted, their heads snapping back toward the source of the sound.
Blood seeped through the man's clothes, dripping onto the road.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The others widened their eyes, frozen in shock.
Mike was the first to snap out of it. He scanned the surroundings, but there was no one in sight.
Reacting swiftly, he barked out a command.
"Take cover!"
But before Kite's order could reach them, two more daggers struck his subordinates.
Crimson blood spread across their clothes as their bodies collapsed.
Thud.
Mike's expression turned somber.
Out of five, only two remained alive. Fortunately, they had taken cover—now, at least, the daggers couldn't reach them.
But the enemy was still unseen. He didn't even know who it was.
Was it the one who had run away earlier? Or the one who had been with them?
It could also be someone else—someone who bore a grudge against him. After all, his sins were many. He had harmed countless people, leaving suffering in his wake.
He might die here, but he wasn't afraid. In this cursed world, death could come for anyone at any time. Violence had escalated so rapidly that many had failed to adapt.
No one knew the reason behind the surge in crime and brutality. Nor did they have the luxury of time to figure it out.
There was only one thing on everyone's mind.
Survive.
Survive.
Survive.
Survive.
He, too, had fought to survive. But the price of survival was the loss of every last shred of morality and virtue.
No one who endured in this world was free of sin. Each had committed their own. For some, their crimes were minor. For others, they were beyond redemption.
Kite was the latter.
Once, he had been a helpless boy. But that boy had been swallowed by the ruthless world he lived in, leaving behind a man who had committed atrocities few in a peaceful world could even imagine.
He could die here without resentment, without feeling wronged.
Because this world had never been fair.
Twitch.
His cheek and forehead burned, his vision blurred. He looked ahead.
Two figures emerged from the alley.
They were the ones from before.
So, the one who ran away... was only a distraction.
He tried to make out their faces, but his eyes were failing him, the darkness swallowing the details.
Then he heard it.
Hah. Hah. Hah.
His last remaining subordinate was running away.
Good choice.
At least now, he could die with the faint hope that he might be avenged.
But then again... that had never really mattered to him.
"Mike, stop him!" a voice rang out.
Mike sprang forward, chasing after the fleeing man.
Al and Kite watched, though Kite could barely see anything.
Silence settled once more.
"So, who are you?" Kite's voice broke the stillness.
"Who am I?"
"I am Al."
"Do you remember now?"
"Al... Al... Al. I see."
"So you've come for revenge. For those two."
"I suppose my sins have finally caught up to me. But remember, I don't think I did anything wrong. If I were put in that situation again, I would make the same choice."
"Don't worry. What you did was wrong, but your decision was correct. I can't judge you, because I would have done the same."
Kite's emotions surged. He was surprised to hear those words, though his burnt face betrayed nothing.
"But I am also here today because they helped me," Al continued. "And it is my responsibility to avenge them."
Kite nodded. Though he had accepted death, he wouldn't go down without a fight. His whole life had been a struggle, and even in this hopeless situation, he would continue to fight.
He pushed himself up and took a fighting stance.
Al watched silently, his face devoid of emotion. He stepped forward.
Step. Step. Step.
Kite focused. His vision was blurred, so he relied on sound. When he thought the footsteps had entered his attack range, he swung. But Al effortlessly dodged his punch.
Without hesitation, Al kicked Kite's leg. Kite staggered but still charged, throwing another punch. Al dodged again and struck the same spot.
Pain shot through Kite's leg, forcing him to retreat. But this time, Al suddenly lunged forward and slammed a punch into Kite's face.
Already injured, Kite lost his balance and crashed to the ground. Before he could recover, Al straddled him and began pounding his face.
Punch. Punch. Punch.
A relentless storm of blows rained down. Blood flowed freely. Kite fought back, landing several hits, but they had no effect.
Three minutes passed. Kite had stopped breathing.
But Al didn't stop.
His fists crashed down harder, his expression blank.
Kite's teeth shattered. His face became unrecognizable. Yet the punches kept coming.
Another four minutes passed before Mike returned.
"I took care of him," Mike said.
Al didn't respond. He kept hitting.
Mike watched for a moment. Seeing no sign of Al stopping, he was about to speak when, suddenly, Al halted.
He stood up, walked over to a nearby corpse, pulled out a dagger, and returned to Kite's lifeless body.
Without hesitation, he stabbed Kite's heart.
Blood pooled around them. Al's hands were red.
He stood up and turned to Mike.
"Let's go. It's over."
Mike glanced at Kite's mangled corpse, then at Al. He couldn't help but comment, "You went easy on him. You killed him more quickly than I expected. I never thought you'd go easy on anyone."
Al stopped in his tracks and stared coldly at Mike.
The air grew heavy with tension.
Mike swallowed and was about to speak again when Al broke the silence.
"Even those two might have forgiven him. What he did to them… wasn't his fault."
Al looked down at his bloodstained hands.
"I just hope reincarnation doesn't exist. Being reborn is the worst thing in this world."
Mike studied Al and, for the first time, thought—Is he sad?