Part 4 : ONI
Night. Rain again.
A pulse of lights flashes across Shibuya's skyline — the heart of the city's decadence. Music thumps from the underground nightclub "Red Ember," where half the underworld launders their sins.
Null stands across the street. Hoodie up. Katana wrapped in cloth. Face lit by neon.
Inside the club — dancers, dealers, and dirty cash float beneath smoke and strobe lights. In the VIP lounge above, a group of gang lieutenants toast over fresh contracts.
Thug 1 (laughing):
"Boss said Tokyo's locked tight. Not even a rat's tail moves without our say."
Thug 2:
"Unless it's that ghost everyone's pissing about. Oni something? Fairy tale."
The lights flicker.
The music stutters.
One of them checks the CCTV — the front guard is missing.
Thug 1:
"...Where's Honda?"
Before the answer comes, the door is kicked in.
Null walks in, calm as snowfall. Mask on. Blade unsheathed.
Thug 2 draws a gun — gets his hand sliced off before he blinks.
Chaos erupts.
One stumbles backward, crashing into the liquor cabinet.
Two try to rush Null together. He ducks, turns, cuts both Achilles tendons clean.
A scream. Blood sprays across the white couch.
The last man grabs a bottle and smashes it — desperate. Null simply shoves him through the glass table.
Silence returns.
Null walks over to the bloodied bar, takes out the oni coin, places it gently in an ashtray full of expensive cigars.
He walks out. Doesn't look back.
Next Morning — Alley Behind Club
Two junior gangsters whisper over the crime scene. Police tape flaps weakly in the wind.
Gangster 1 (terrified):
"He left the coin again."
Gangster 2:
"That makes five in three days."
Gangster 1:
"...Is he real?"
Gangster 2:
(quietly) "He doesn't breathe. Just kills."
Police tape flaps in the wind.
Detectives push past club security. A forensic officer vomits in the corner. Blood stains every surface.
Detective (in shock):
"…This wasn't a shootout. This was surgical."
On the lounge couch — a thug's corpse, mouth propped open, lips pale.
Inside his mouth — a blood-soaked silver coin.
The oni face grins from between broken teeth.
---
[SCENE 2 — UENO, LATE NIGHT]
A shipment yard. Crates of contraband — weapons, fentanyl, bodies in coolers.
Sudden blackout.
Screams.
Flashes of steel.
One man staggers out, missing an eye, bleeding, clutching his throat.
He collapses near the gate.
Pinned to his chest: a coin nailed through the shirt.
Oni's face glinting in the moonlight.
---
[SCENE 3 — SHINAGAWA PORT, EARLY MORNING]
A smuggler's boat drifts into harbor — pilotless.
Cops board it, weapons raised.
Inside three bodies hanging by the neck, tied with red thread.
Each one has an oni coin stitched into their tongue.
---
[SCENE 4 — ROPPONGI, 3 A.M.]
Yakuza-run brothel. Girls gone. Guards gutted.
CCTV footage shows a figure in a mask — sword dragging across the floor, catching sparks.
One thug tries to crawl away.
Null steps on his hand, leaves a coin behind… and disappears into steam.
The carnage was endless.
One night after another — a new body, a new coin, a new legend carved in blood.
They called him Oni.
A name once whispered in old tales, now spoken with trembling lips behind locked doors.
Gangsters stopped showing up to their dens.
Corrupt officers left town.
Politicians postponed their rallies, their bulletproof cars parked longer each day.
No one wanted to be next.
The streets, once ruled by chaos, fell eerily silent.
No sirens. No gunshots. Just… fear.
In neighborhoods where thugs once taxed shopkeepers at knifepoint, now the shutters stayed open — no one dared collect.
The mark of Oni was no longer just a coin.
It was a curse.
Whispers traveled faster than bullets.
> "I heard he gutted ten men in Shibuya with his bare hands."
"My cousin saw him vanish into smoke after killing the port chief."
"He doesn't speak. He just watches. And then you're dead."
The police tried to keep it quiet.
Classified the reports.
Scrubbed the footage.
But it was too late.
The bodies were piling up faster than lies.
Crime rates plummeted.
Not from law.
From terror.
The Oni had become a phantom stitched into Tokyo's underworld.
And everyone knew…
He was just getting started.
Various news channels
TV ANCHOR 1 (English, channel flicker):
"The vigilante known only as 'Oni' has been linked to five brutal attacks in just three days…"
TV ANCHOR 2 (Japanese, subtitled):
"…tokubetsu no shirushi— a silver coin engraved with a demon's face, left inside the victims' mouths…"
TV ANCHOR 3 (Korean, subtitled):
"…police remain silent, but whispers in the underworld speak of a ghost. A hunter."
INSERT — CCTV FOOTAGE (GRAINY, BLACK & WHITE):
A blurry figure in a mask walking through fire.
A man slumped against a wall, blood pooling, the coin in his mouth catching light.
TV ANCHOR 4 (English):
"Sources claim the figure wears a demon mask, uses a sword, and leaves no survivors. Some call him a mercenary. Others…"
(beat)
"…a curse."
INT. POLICE PRECINCT – NIGHT
Detectives gathered around photos pinned on a corkboard — mugshots, crime scene images, a silver coin under evidence light.
DETECTIVE 1 (low voice):
"Who the hell is this guy…?"
DETECTIVE 2 (grim):
"He's not just killing criminals. He's collapsing networks."
INT. UNDERGROUND BAR – NIGHT
Low-lit. Packed with Yakuza and black-market figures murmuring in panic.
Nobody drinks. Nobody smiles.
THUG (whispering):
"He's not stopping. Shibuya's gone. Who's next?"
SENIOR GANGSTER:
"Don't say his name. Just don't."
Akao stands in front of a tall window, looking out over the city. Rain streaks the glass.
One of his lieutenants enters, pale.
Lieutenant:
"…They're calling him a myth now."
Akao (calmly):
"Good. Let the myth come closer."
He turns.
A map of Tokyo behind him.
Certain areas are marked red.
He picks up one of the coins laid on the table… and crushes it in his fist.
CITY SKYLINE – NIGHT
Smoke still rising from the latest hit.
And on a rooftop overlooking it all…
Null, crouched, mask off, eyes cold.
He lights a cigarette. The flame reflects off the oni coin in his palm.