Nearly six months had passed since Reiji Kinzoku discovered Dio's fragmented journal in the Musutafu museum. Six months of relentless growth, fueled by the blood of the criminals he hunted and the cold philosophy contained within those yellowed pages. At fourteen, Reiji was already a force to be reckoned with in the shadows.
Dio's influence, absorbed from the journal, shaped his thoughts, his ambition growing from mere survival to a cold desire for absolute dominion.
However, frustration gnawed at him. The journal was incomplete. Descriptions of the more advanced powers – the eye beams, the freezing touch, the creation of servants – were mere allusions, promises without instructions. And there was Dio's final taunt: the lost pages, scattered like a test across museums in Japan. A legacy waiting to be claimed by the worthy and audacious.
After weeks of meticulous study of the journal and cross-referencing with obscure historical records and online museum catalogs (accessed through public terminals and with a growing skill in bypassing simple systems), Reiji found his first concrete clue. A coded entry from Dio mentioned a "British gift to the Eastern Emperor" and a "stone serpent that watches where the sun sets." Combining this with records of diplomatic donations from the late 19th century and the layout of the collection at the Kyoto National Museum, he identified a likely candidate: a collection of Mesoamerican artifacts donated by the British Crown, housed in a specific westward-facing wing.
The trip to Kyoto required more planning than his usual nightly forays. He used his meager savings (supplemented by money "acquired" from his victims) for the train ticket and concocted an elaborate story about a special school project to justify his weekend absence from the group home. The lie came easily now, manipulation becoming second nature.
Kyoto exuded a different atmosphere than Musutafu. Older, heavier with history, the shadows between the temples and shrines seemed to hold deeper secrets. The National Museum was a fortress of culture and silence. The nighttime infiltration, however, was an exercise in his enhanced abilities. Slipping past camera blind spots, moving with a silence that would fool even the most sensitive motion sensors, unlocking electronic doors with a precise application of minimal force to the internal mechanisms – it was almost too easy. He felt an amusing contempt for conventional human security.
His senses guided him through the dim, silent corridors to the 19th-century cultural exchange wing. There, in a thick glass display case, was the Mesoamerican collection. And in the center, a feathered serpent figurine carved from dark jade, its empty eyes seeming to follow the last rays of the setting sun through the high windows. "The stone serpent that watches where the sun sets." Bingo.
The display case's security system was more sophisticated than the outer locks. Pressure sensors, perhaps infrared lasers. Reiji spent several minutes observing, his eyes catching the nearly invisible shimmer of beams, his ears tuned to the subtle hum of sensors. With the precision of a surgeon and the speed of a specter, he bypassed the case's lock, his fingers finding the correct pressure points, and opened the glass door without triggering a single alarm. He carefully lifted the jade serpent figurine. There was an almost invisible seam at its base. With a fingernail (now unnaturally hard and sharp), he pried at the seam. The base opened, revealing a small hollow compartment. Inside, protected by a piece of faded silk, was a small set of folded, yellowed pages, written in the same elegant, arrogant hand as Dio's.
A cold, intense triumph surged through Reiji. The first piece of the puzzle. He reached out to retrieve them...
"An impressive display of skill, I must admit."
The voice came from the deep shadows at the other end of the room. It was calm, dry, but laden with unexpected authority. Reiji retracted his hand instantly, spinning on his heels, body tensed like a coiled spring.
A man emerged slowly from the darkness. He was middle-aged, perhaps in his early fifties, thin, with meticulously combed-back gray hair and an austere face marked by fine wrinkles. He wore an impeccable dark suit, more fitting for a director than a night guard. His eyes, however, were the most striking feature: they were an almost icy pale blue and shone with a penetrating intelligence and fervent fanaticism that seemed utterly out of place. He showed no fear, only cold assessment.
"To get this far, bypassing physical and electronic defenses... Few would have the capability, fewer still the audacity," the man continued, his eyes fixed not on Reiji, but on the pages inside the figurine. "But what brought you here? Common greed for ancient artifacts? Or... something more?"
Reiji remained silent, evaluating the threat. Human. But the calmness, the lack of surprise, the intensity in his gaze – there was more here than met the eye. He could sense a controlled energy emanating from the man, a Quirk held in reserve. "You," Reiji finally said, his voice distorted by the mask and hood, "are no ordinary museum employee."
The man allowed himself a thin smile. "I am Kaito Ishikawa. Assistant curator of this wing, yes. But my purpose here, my true duty, transcends the mere preservation of relics. My family has served a higher purpose for generations. We are the Guardians of the Legacy."
"Legacy?" Reiji probed, guard still high.
"The Master's legacy!" Ishikawa's eyes flashed with fervor. "He who transcended humanity, who reached for the heavens and showed us the true meaning of power! Lord Dio!"
The name, spoken aloud with such fanatical reverence, confirmed Reiji's suspicions. This man wasn't just an obstacle; he was a devotee. A servant left behind. "Dio was here? In Japan?" Reiji asked, genuine curiosity mixing with his caution.
"He graced these lands with his divine presence long ago," Ishikawa answered, his voice low and reverent. "In his quest for knowledge, for allies, for pathways to attain Heaven. He foresaw the possibility of setbacks, the interference of those foolish Joestars. And like a true master strategist, he left contingencies. Seeds of his knowledge, protected by those who recognized his glory and swore eternal loyalty. My family was one of those honored with such a duty. To protect this page until someone worthy, someone carrying the spark of the Master's power, came to claim it." Ishikawa assessed him from head to toe. "You have the power, I can feel it. The cold scent of the transformation is on you. But... are you worthy? Or just a lucky thief who stumbled upon the key?"
"Worthiness is proven by the power to take," Reiji replied coolly, echoing the philosophy he had absorbed. "These pages are mine by right of discovery and strength."
Ishikawa sighed, a feigned sadness in his eyes. "So be it. The Master also instructed that the unworthy should be purified. Consider this your final test."
In the next instant, Ishikawa vanished. Not with speed, but as if the air around him had folded in on itself. Reiji felt a subtle distortion in the light and sound where the man had stood. Quirk: Refraction Field. Near-perfect invisibility.
Reiji immediately sharpened his other senses. He heard the faint rustle of shoes to his left and attacked with a swift blow, but his fingers passed through empty air. A sharp pain in his flank indicated Ishikawa had moved and struck with a blunt object while unseen. The blow wasn't strong enough to cause serious damage, but it was irritating, disorienting.
"You are fast, transformed child," Ishikawa's voice echoed from a new position, distorted by the refraction. "But speed is useless if you cannot see your target. I am the environment now. I am the shadows between the shadows."
Reiji stopped, forcing his mind to work. He tried focusing on the life signature, as he had against the security guard, but Ishikawa's Quirk seemed to distort even that subtle perception, creating echoes and phantom images of vital energy. He tried using sound, delivering quick strikes to the floor to create shockwaves, but Ishikawa was skilled at using the echo of the spacious room to mask his exact location.
Artifacts began to fly towards him – small vases, fragments of statues – thrown from unseen angles. Reiji dodged them easily, but it was a constant distraction, preventing him from focusing on locating the guardian.
"Frustrated, child?" Ishikawa's mocking voice echoed. "Raw power is nothing without control, without intelligence. Lord Dio valued the mind as much as strength. You seem to possess only the latter."
The taunt struck a nerve. Reiji's arrogance flared. He dares compare me to Dio and find me lacking? The anger brought a new clarity. If he couldn't rely on his conventional senses or life detection, he needed to create a situation where the guardian's invisibility was irrelevant.
He stopped dodging the smaller projectiles. Let a small ceramic vase hit his arm, shattering harmlessly against his dense muscles. He needed to draw Ishikawa closer.
Feigning being more shaken than he was by the constant attacks, Reiji retreated towards a large ancient tapestry hanging on the wall, stumbling deliberately. He dropped to his knees as if overwhelmed.
"Is that all?" Ishikawa's voice came from nearby, full of disdain. "I expected more from one who came this far. Perhaps you are not worthy, after all."
Reiji heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps, the almost imperceptible displacement of air. Ishikawa was coming in for the finish. Now!
With an explosion of speed from his kneeling position, Reiji didn't attack where he heard the sound, but instead swept the immediate area in front of him with a swift, low, circular leg movement. His shin collided with something solid yet yielding – Ishikawa's legs.
A cry of surprise and pain was heard as the guardian lost his balance, his invisibility flickering for a crucial split second as he fell. In that instant, Reiji saw the distorted silhouette and attacked.
He didn't aim to incapacitate. He aimed to dominate. He grabbed Ishikawa's ankle before he could recover, pulling hard and spinning, throwing the unseen man into a massive glass display case on the other side of the room.
The sound of shattering glass echoed through the silent museum, followed by a groan of pain. Ishikawa's Quirk failed completely with the impact and loss of concentration. He lay amidst the shards of glass, visible now, trying to push himself up, a nasty cut on his forehead bleeding freely.
Reiji crossed the room in an instant, standing over the fallen guardian. He could see the fanaticism still burning in the man's pale blue eyes, mixed with pain and a grudging respect.
"You... you are strong," Ishikawa gasped, coughing up blood. "Strong and ruthless. Perhaps... perhaps there is something of the Master in you."
"Where are the other pages?" Reiji demanded, his voice cold.
Ishikawa laughed, a dry, bubbling sound. "Scattered. As he commanded. A test of will and power. This was but the first key." He struggled to sit up, ignoring the glass shards. "Lord Dio knew his grand plan to achieve Heaven might fail. The Joestars... they were persistently troublesome. He came to Japan years ago, seeking allies and ancient knowledge. He honored my family with his presence, shared a glimpse of his glory, and entrusted us with this single page, and the mission to guard it. If he fell before reaching his goal, his legacy would not die. Someone worthy, someone who overcame the tests, would eventually find the path."
He looked up at Reiji, his eyes blazing with a feverish light. "It seems that someone is you. You passed the test. You fought with intelligence and power. You are worthy to bear the knowledge." With visible effort, he pulled a small, sealed metal cylinder from his inner jacket pocket. "The page you seek was not in the figurine. That was merely the bait. This..." he held the cylinder out to Reiji, "...contains the true fragment of the journal."
Reiji took the cylinder, feeling the cool metal. He opened it. Inside, rolled carefully, was a set of yellowed pages, identical to those he already possessed.
"My purpose is fulfilled," Ishikawa said, a strange contentment in his voice. "I have guarded the legacy. I have witnessed the arrival of the worthy heir." He looked at Reiji, a final glint of fanatic fervor in his eyes. "Use this knowledge well. Reach the heavens denied to the Master. Crush the weak. Dominate!"
Before Reiji could react or question further, Ishikawa brought a hand to his chest. With a swift, precise movement, he seemed to activate something small he held. There was a faint hiss and a weak chemical odor. The guardian's eyes widened for an instant in agony, then glazed over. A trickle of foam appeared at his lips, and he slumped sideways, dead. Poison. A final act of absolute loyalty, ensuring he couldn't be interrogated, that the secret died with him, now that his mission was complete.
Reiji stood for a long moment, looking down at the cultist's body. He felt no horror, no sadness. Perhaps a flicker of reluctant respect for the fanatic devotion, but mostly, analytical coldness. This was the kind of loyalty Dio inspired. The kind of loyalty he himself would need to cultivate.
He quickly examined the newly acquired pages. They were there: the intricate details of the Space Ripper Stingy Eyes, the mechanics of the Vaporization Freezing Technique, the principles of creating vampire servants. The practical knowledge he lacked.
With the cylinder and its contents securely stored, Reiji Kinzoku gave the dead guardian and the shattered glass one last look. He had gotten what he came for, and much more. He left the museum silently, disappearing into the Kyoto night, his mind already working through the implications of the new knowledge, the dangerous path opening before him, and the dark legacy he now carried more consciously. The hunt for the other pages would be his priority, but first, he had new skills to master. The Blood Reign was about to enter a new, more dangerous phase.