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The masked figures weren't ordinary thugs. Their movements were synchronized, trained, and deadly. Hoshiro could feel it in the way they circled, cutting off escape routes like predators cornering prey.
"Kazuki—fall back!" he shouted.
But Kazuki was already mid-sprint, swinging a steel pipe at one attacker. Hoshiro moved faster—his blade drawn in a blur, disarming two opponents before their weapons left their hands. Blue aura sparked in his eyes like lightning caged behind glass.
From a rooftop above, a calm, mocking voice echoed.
"Impressive, little phantom."
Hoshiro froze. That voice… It belonged to *her*.
A cloaked figure descended, landing with unnatural grace. Her name was Ayame—the Crimson Syndicate's youngest enforcer, and once… his childhood friend.
Ayame pulled back her hood, revealing piercing red eyes.
"So it's true. You survived."
Hoshiro's fists clenched. "Why are you working for them?"
"Why are you still pretending to be a hero?" she countered.
The tension cracked the air between them. Around them, the remaining syndicate agents circled tighter.
"You'll have to choose soon, Hoshiro," Ayame said coldly. "Between saving this city… or facing the truth."Then, like smoke, she vanished—leaving only questions and rising danger in her wake.
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