Chapter 55: The Lion of San Juan
Night draped itself across San Juan, the Rainbow City. The glowing arc of the Rainbow Bridge stretched above the metropolis like a celestial monument, its seven bands of light shimmering against the clouds. The bridge pulsed with radiant energy, each hue fueling the vast network of techno corps machines and advanced systems that powered San Juan's skyscrapers, markets, and underground grids. To outsiders, San Juan was a miracle of progress. To those who lived here, it was also a cage — where the agency's eyes lingered, and old shadows of war never truly died.
The streets were alive with neon signs, vendors, and the hum of transport pods. Yet, above the chaos, on rooftops bathed in moonlight, one figure stood apart: Kiro. The swordsman's black trench coat flowed with the night breeze, his single eye narrowed in focus, the scar of the eye he had traded for mastery burning faintly. The Nin Sword, wrapped at his back, gleamed under the pale light. His aura — that suffocating Lion's Aura — pressed invisibly against the world around him. Even before his blade touched steel, criminals across San Juan felt their knees weaken.
He dropped from a ledge like a phantom, landing amidst a den of black-market dealers. The room froze. Men armed with plasma rifles, smugglers whispering prices of stolen tech, and women forced into slavery all went silent. Kiro's presence carved through the noise like a blade through silence.
"L–Lion…" one dealer stammered.
Kiro moved. No words. Just motion. His sword unsheathed with a clean hiss, a flash of cold steel against neon glow. One slice — three weapons fell apart, cut clean at their cores. A step forward — two men dropped, unconscious from the sheer pressure of his aura before he even struck. He was efficient, clinical, the predator of San Juan.
Blood sprayed against walls, echoing screams split the night, but to Kiro, it was silence. Duty. Justice. No mercy for the filth that corrupted this city.
In his mind, a voice broke the silence.
> "Agent Kiro."
It was Scaro, through his comm-link. The cold voice of the CD9 head sliced into Kiro's focus.
> "Drop your mission and report to base immediately. This is an order."
Kiro halted mid-step, his blade resting against a trembling dealer's throat. His jaw clenched. His single eye glowed faintly — the All-Seeing Eye.
"…I don't take orders when the streets still bleed," Kiro muttered, slicing the man down without hesitation. His comm went silent, but he knew Scaro's fury was boiling. Kiro didn't care. He never cared.
As the last criminal dropped, the silence of victory weighed heavy. For a moment, he closed his eye, breathing in. And that's when the memory struck him like lightning.
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Flashback – The Old War of San Juan
The Rainbow Bridge wasn't always a monument of beauty. Decades ago, it was a battlefield. And standing against its conqueror was Kiro and his best friend — JJ.
The sky had burned red then. San Juan was not a city of light, but rubble and fire. And at the heart of its chaos stood a single man — Kurak the Barbarian. His laughter was thunder, his footsteps quakes. Muscles like mountains, a blade the size of two men, and eyes burning with wild fury. Kurak wasn't a man; he was a storm wrapped in flesh.
"You can't kill me!" Kurak had bellowed. "I am destiny! Even in death, I will return!"
Kiro remembered his younger self, standing side by side with JJ. His Nin Sword clashed against Kurak's great blade, sparks flying like fireworks against the burning bridge. JJ roared, charging with his own ferocity, the two agents weaving their attacks in a deadly dance. The battle lasted hours, their bodies breaking, blood soaking their uniforms.
Finally, with one last desperate strike, Kiro had driven his blade through Kurak's chest, while JJ severed the barbarian's arm. Kurak had fallen to his knees, laughing even as his lifeblood spilled.
> "This is not the end… I will rise… San Juan will kneel again!"
His laughter had echoed across the ruined Rainbow Bridge until his body fell silent.
Kiro opened his eye, snapping back to the present. Even now, Kurak's words still rattled in his bones.
---
Present – The Lion Returns
The last criminal slumped against the wall, his screams fading. Kiro stood over the carnage, his coat stained, his blade dripping. The mission was complete, the streets cleaner for one more night. But his heart was heavy. Kurak's memory haunted him. He knew, deep down, death was not always final in this world. And San Juan — this Rainbow City — was cursed with unfinished wars.
His comm crackled again.
> "You will regret defying me, Kiro," Scaro hissed.
Kiro shut the link off and sheathed his blade. He didn't need to hear Scaro's voice. He didn't need approval. He only needed to protect this city, the only place that had shaped him into the Lion he had become.
As he walked away from the blood-soaked room, neon lights flickering on his coat, he whispered to himself:
"…JJ… if only you were here to see what this city has become."
---
Meanwhile – The Rainbow City Gates
The Rainbow Bridge glowed brighter that night, streaks of vibrant light cascading into the sky. Citizens walked its expanse, unaware that history was stirring beneath their feet.
At the edge of San Juan, a sleek jet pierced through the clouds. Its engines hummed softly as it descended, glowing against the lights of the Rainbow City. Inside sat three figures — Moro, Kaya, and Herbet.
Moro leaned back, his blue eyes reflecting the bridge outside. His body still bore the scars of Shinya, his aura quieter but far deeper. He had achieved Ultra Fusion, but he knew true mastery was still ahead. He carried his father's mystery like a shadow.
Beside him, Kaya leaned against his shoulder. Her spirit — fierce, loyal, fiery — had grown even closer to him since Shinya. She was not just a fighter now. She was his partner, his anchor, his love.
And across from them, Herbet polished his gauntlets, his sharp mind always scanning, always prepared. "San Juan," he said quietly, staring through the jet's window. "The city of light… but also the city of secrets. If the corps truly control the Rainbow Bridge, then this is more than just a city. It's the world's heart."
Moro smirked faintly. "Then let's see what's waiting for us."
The jet descended, cutting across San Juan's skyline, the Rainbow Bridge stretching like a divine pathway. Citizens pointed up, whispering, unaware of the storm now converging upon their city.
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The Lion and the Rising Storm
That same night, high above the streets, Kiro stood on a rooftop, his coat fluttering, the Rainbow Bridge's light reflecting in his single eye. He could feel it. Something was coming. Something far greater than drug lords or petty criminals.
His aura expanded, brushing against the energy of the city, and for a fleeting second, he felt a pulse — foreign, powerful, sharp. The kind of energy only warriors carried.
He clenched his fist, whispering to himself:
"…The storm begins again."
Far below, Moro, Kaya, and Herbet stepped foot onto San Juan soil, the city lights dancing in their eyes.
The Lion and the Rising Hero. Two paths, bound to collide. And somewhere in the depths of forgotten graves, the laughter of a barbarian long slain echoed faintly in the void.
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