Blood pooled around Akira's boots, soaking into the cracks of the rooftop. The corpses stacked beneath him reeked of gunpowder, sweat, and final regrets. A bunch of stiff-suited mafia assholes—all dead, all useless, all wiped out because they pissed off the wrong guy.
He exhaled, stretching his arms behind his head, twirling a dagger between his fingers. "Damn. That was fun."
Then he heard the footsteps. Slow, measured. Too damn heavy to belong to a rat trying to run.
Grevis.
The bastard stepped onto the rooftop like he owned the night, blood-red katana glinting under the moonlight. His presence alone was like a damn storm rolling in.
"You already did my mission." His voice was calm. Always too fucking calm.
Akira grinned, flicking his dagger up and catching it. "Yeah, about that… I got bored. Figured I'd clear this mess up an hour ago. Now I'm just chillin'."
Grevis studied the bodies, then looked back at him. "Which mafia do you follow?"
Akira snorted. "None. I just kill the bastards that deserve it. I'm a goddamn revenge machine."
There was a beat of silence. A shift in the air.
Then—
Steel whispered.
Grevis drew his katana in a flash, the blade slicing toward Akira's throat.
Akira tilted his head just a hair.
The sword missed.
Grevis's eyes flickered—surprised. "Didn't expect you to dodge that."
Akira clicked his tongue, flipping his dagger lazily before slipping it away. "Didn't expect you to be a rude bitch interrupting our convo."
Grevis slid the katana back into its sheath, his face unreadable.
Akira sighed dramatically. "Oh, thank fuck. We're not fighting—"
A fist slammed into his face.
The impact snapped his head back, crushed his nose, and sent him flying off the rooftop.
Air roared past his ears. Blood sprayed.
Akira twisted mid-air, vision spinning. "YOU MOTHERFU—"
Grevis was already there.
A shadow cutting through the night.
His leg cocked back—
BOOM.
A kick crashed into Akira's ribs, sending him rocketing down even faster.
Akira barely managed to shift his weight before smashing into the pavement.
CRACK.
His body skidded, boots scraping across the ground, ribs screaming in protest.
Grevis landed lightly. Across from him. No swords. Just fists.
Akira wiped the blood from his lip, a slow grin stretching over his face. "Ohhhh, so you wanna throw hands?" He cracked his knuckles. "Fine, fine… Let's fucking dance."
And then—
They clashed.
Fists snapped through the air. Bones met flesh. Kicks cut through the space between them.
Akira moved like a goddamn blur, weaving through Grevis's attacks, slipping past brutal strikes by a hair. But the old man was a beast. His movements were precise, honed. Every attack carried weight, power, intent.
Akira ducked under a lightning-fast jab, twisting his body—CRACK. A knee slammed into Grevis's ribs.
Nothing. No reaction.
"Oh, come the fuck on."
Grevis countered instantly—a palm strike aimed straight for Akira's temple.
Akira barely blocked, but the force sent him stumbling back.
Grevis didn't let up. A knee. A kick. A goddamn hurricane of blows.
Akira dodged, barely keeping up. "FUCK—you're actually trying to kill me, huh? No love for the little guys?"
Grevis caught his arm, ripped him forward—
Akira slammed his forehead into Grevis's face.
WHAM.
Grevis staggered. Just a step.
Akira grinned. "Aww, did that hurt, Grandpa?"
Grevis's foot crashed into his stomach.
FUCK.
Akira's body folded, air ripped from his lungs, but he rolled with the impact, flipping backward to land on his feet.
He spat blood onto the pavement. "Okay. Ow."
Grevis exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "That's enough."
Akira blinked. "What? That's it? No winner?"
Grevis slid his katana back into its sheath. "You pass."
Akira groaned, wiping his nose. "The fuck kind of job interview was that?"
Grevis didn't react. "Join The Hands."
Akira scoffed, rolling his neck. "Nah. I don't do rules, don't do morals. I kill who I want, when I want. That's freedom."
Grevis turned slightly. "You care about the orphanage."
Silence.
A shift in the air.
Akira's fingers twitched. His grin didn't drop, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes.
"…How the fuck do you know about that?"
Grevis didn't answer.
Akira let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Tch… Alright, alright…" He cracked his knuckles, then stretched.
Then, with a smirk, he tilted his head.
"What was your company name again?"
Grevis's lips curled just slightly.
Welcome to The Hands.