The city never slept, but tonight it trembled.
Rain lashed the steel towers of City X, slicing through the neon haze like shards of glass. Inside an abandoned industrial complex on the city's outskirts, three figures stood around a restrained young man, his wrists and ankles locked by gravity cuffs glowing with dull crimson light.
Blaze.
The faint hum of the cuffs mixed with the echo of dripping water. He was soaked, bruised, and his once-white hair clung to his face, silver streaks catching the faint light. Even in chains, his eyes burned with the same defiant brilliance that had made him one of Eternal Era's most unpredictable strikers.
Han Dae-Sung, the hunters' leader, adjusted his dark coat, stepping closer. His face was sharp and unreadable — the kind that had seen too much blood and never flinched.
"You should've stayed a player, not a legend, Blaze," he said quietly. "We could've made you rich. Instead, you keep making enemies."
