Yokohama at Night.
Beneath the ink-black sky, the city shimmered with golden light. The night streets pulsed with life, a stark contrast to the daytime bustle—here, people indulged in unrestrained revelry.
Exhausted salarymen staggered from one bar to the next in small groups. Seductively dressed women loitered under neon signs, their heavy perfume and cigarette smoke clashing in the air. Street thugs, their hair dyed and skin inked, fondled their ill-gotten gains before slipping into pleasure dens that never slept.
Unlike the rest of the city, where darkness swallowed whole districts early, this one strip blazed defiantly into the night.
Red-light districts, casinos, nightclubs, bars—every vice imaginable thrived here.
From above, they formed a perfect circle, like a halo.
And at the center of that halo stood five obsidian towers, piercing the heavens.
The headquarters of the Port Mafia, the rulers of Yokohama's underworld.
Located in the heart of the city, these five spires symbolized the five executives who held dominion over Yokohama's darkness. Each tower belonged to one of them.
From the rooftops, they could survey the entire city. And from anywhere in Yokohama, those towers loomed like monuments—impossible to ignore.
A blatant declaration of sovereignty, as if the Port Mafia wanted all eyes on them.
A criminal syndicate, yet they flaunted their power more brazenly than anyone else, as if the government's opinion meant nothing.
And honestly? It didn't.
Yokohama was special. Unlike other cities, it operated under a unique system—the Tripartite Framework.
Three factions governed the city:
Daylight—overseen by the Special Division for Unusual Powers, the government's official agency for handling supernatural affairs. They maintained order, protected civilians from supernatural threats, and wielded the nation's authority.
Nightfall—ruled by the Port Mafia. Their shadow stretched over the city, keeping citizens in fear while suppressing other criminal elements. They were the predators who made sure no other predators got too bold.
Twilight—managed by the Armed Detective Agency, the mediators who walked the line between light and dark. They handled cases too messy for the government and ensured an uneasy peace.
In a world where supernatural abilities existed, every nation had its own way of managing them. For Yokohama, the Tripartite Framework was the most effective.
And that was why the Port Mafia could afford to be so arrogant.
"Out of the three, the Port Mafia is the perfect stage for me."
Strolling through the neon-drenched streets, Tokisaki Kurumi gazed up at the five towers and made her choice.
Her system had given her a main mission: Become Yokohama's most feared nightmare. That wasn't something she could accomplish overnight.
So for now, she focused on the easier side quests.
There were three:
Join one of the three major factions (Special Division for Unusual Powers, Armed Detective Agency, or Port Mafia).
Defeat a member of The Guild (but she wasn't even sure if the Guild existed yet).
Hide her identity as an Otherworlder (which mostly meant not drawing attention).
Since the second was impossible for now and the third was passive, that left only the first.
Special Division for Unusual Powers? A government agency dedicated to arresting criminals like her. Hard pass.
Armed Detective Agency? Neutral on paper, but practically an ally of the government. Plus, they had detectives with monstrous deductive skills. Too risky.
That left the Port Mafia.
The apex predator of Yokohama's underworld—and she, the Worst Spirit, who had slaughtered thousands.
Wasn't that a perfect match?
Besides, joining them would massively help her main mission.
But getting in wouldn't be easy. With no identity, no records, she was a ghost. The Port Mafia didn't recruit nobodies.
So if she wanted in… she'd have to make an impression.
As she approached the Port Mafia's headquarters, Kurumi's school uniform melted away, replaced by her Astral Dress—Elohim.
The refined, elegant young lady vanished—reborn as a Spirit of Night and Blood, stepping forward like a princess gracing a banquet.
"Miss, this isn't a place for you."
The guard at the entrance hesitated, his hand hovering near his holstered gun before settling on a verbal warning. "If you come any closer, I'll have to take regrettable measures."
"Is this the Port Mafia's headquarters?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm in the right place."
Kurumi stopped just out of reach, smiling. "Could you do me a favor? I'd like to meet your boss—Ōgai Mori."
"Sorry, the Boss doesn't see just anyone."
Normally, the guard would've fired a warning shot by now. But faced with such an ethereal girl, he held back. "If you want an audience, you'll need to go through his secretary."
"Ah, what a shame."
With a sigh, Kurumi melted into her own shadow, leaving the guard stunned.
"Forgive my rudeness, but this is quite important."
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