Nakami Park, an old park in a rather secluded part of the city that hasn't been renovated and has been left alone for years.
Here, Seijirou and Suzune pulled their bikes to a stop at the edge of the quiet park.
The rumble of their engines faded, replaced by the soft chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves overhead.
Ahead of them, near a rusty streetlight, stood Sakai and Shou, both waiting casually.
Shou leaned lazily against a lamppost, hands in his pockets, while Sakai, with his broad frame and ever-cheerful grin, waved the moment he saw them.
"Boss! Suzune! You two finally made it!"
Sakai approached with a light bounce in his step, his round face glowing with excitement as his eyes locked onto the two motorcycles.
"Damn! These are handsome fellas! A CBR600RR and a R6!? Is this yours boss?! How come I never seen these before!?"
He circled around them, whistling in appreciation, before turning to Seijirou and asked, grinning slyly, "Boss, do you think I could borrow one of the bikes sometime, maybe for a ride on the weekends, just for fun."
Seijirou, calm as ever, gave him a brief look before shaking his head and sighed, "I'll think about it."
That short, simple answer was enough to make Sakai beam with satisfaction, his enthusiasm bursting as he turned his attention toward Suzune's Yamaha R6.
He crouched beside it, inspecting every curve and detail as he began firing off questions.
"What's its specs? Is this all stock? Or did you change anything?"
"How about its horsepower? It should be over a hundred right?"
"It's an inline four...it sounds absolutely divine."
Suzune, leaning against her bike with a faint smirk, simly said, "Hey, don't ask me things. I don't know much about bikes, this belonged to Seijirou, I just rode it when I felt like it."
"What?! How unfair! Boss didn't say anything to me!? He knows how much I love bikes!"
Suzune flipped her hair, "Well, probably because you're not a beautiful lady like me."
"Fuck. I can't even argue."
Seijirou ignored their banter as his gaze shifted to Shou, who met his eyes immediately.
Without being asked, Shou straightened up and spoke. His tone was casual, but his words carried weight.
"The Hunters' headquarters was close by, just a short walk from here. It's an abandoned arcade at the end of the alleyway behind the park." He pointed at the alleyway.
Seijirou followed his gesture toward the dark, narrow alley lined with trash bins and flickering lights.
He took a long look, nodded once, then motioned for Suzune to move with him.
The two wheeled their bikes to a nearby corner, found a discreet spot to park, and shut the engines down completely.
The park fell into silence again.
Once the bikes were secured, Seijirou turned back to the group.
"Let's go," he said quietly. There was no need for further discussion.
The four of them started walking into the alley, their footsteps echoing faintly against the concrete.
The place smelled of dampness and rust, littered with scraps of paper, broken bottles, and the scurrying of rats.
Stray cats darted past their feet, slipping into shadows as they went deeper inside.
They moved in silence, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the city far behind them.
After a short walk, Shou raised a hand and pointed ahead toward a rundown metal door, its surface rusted and dented, with a faint neon glow leaking through the cracks.
"It's here," he said.
Seijirou didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, his expression unreadable, then lifted his leg and slammed his boot into the door.
The impact echoed through the alley, and the old hinges gave way with a sharp metallic screech as the door burst open.
Inside, startled faces turned toward them.
The room was dimly lit, the air thick with smoke and the smell of cheap alcohol.
A dozen or more young men stared back, most wearing torn jackets, dyed hair, and cocky smirks that faltered the moment they saw who had entered.
There were roughly two dozen of them, all looking like your typical high school delinquents, loud, restless, and overconfident.
Seijirou's eyes swept across the room, calm and steady.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The air grew heavy under his presence alone, and for the first time that night, the Hunters felt the weight of what they had done.
Just then, the sound of slow, uneven footsteps echoed through the arcade, each step heavy and dragging.
From the back of the room, a young man emerged, his bloodshot eyes revealing the toll of sleepless nights and drug use.
His posture was relaxed, his grin crooked, his presence carrying the arrogance of someone who thought himself untouchable.
He walked toward Seijirou with an exaggerated swagger, his smirk widening as the tension in the room thickened.
He stopped right in front of Seijirou, close enough for the acrid smell of smoke and alcohol to mix in the air between them.
He tilted his head, grinning mockingly as he said in a taunting tone, "Well, if it isn't the Great Kageyama Seijirou. To what do we owe the honor? Why would someone as mighty as you bother visiting us lowly street rats?"
Seijirou didn't respond immediately. His expression didn't shift, his eyes calm and sharp as he looked straight at the young man.
When he spoke, his voice was low and steady. "You attacked one of mine."
The leader blinked, feigning confusion, then let out a scoff.
"One of yours?" He leaned forward, pretending to think, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. "Who the hell are you talking about?"
Seijirou said nothing. His silence only deepened the pressure in the room. Every second stretched longer, the quiet hum of the broken fluorescent light buzzing above them the only sound between breaths.
Then the leader snapped his fingers, as if recalling something trivial. "Ah. You mean that ugly bastard with the even uglier pompadour?"
Seijirou's eyes narrowed, the faintest glint of danger flashing within them.
The leader chuckled, his grin widening, enjoying himself far too much. "Didn't know that clown was under your wing, Seijirou-sama. If I'd known, maybe I would've gone easier on him. Then again…"
He shrugged lazily. "Besides, who would've thought that the great Kageyama Seijirou keeps weaklings around him? You've really gone soft—"
The words barely left his mouth before Seijirou moved.
There was no warning. Not even as much as a sound, it was just a blur of motion as Seijirou pivoted on his heel and delivered a sharp spinning kick that connected squarely with the side of the leader's face.
The impact was brutal, the crack of contact echoing across the room as the man was sent flying, crashing into a pile of chairs with a violent thud that silenced everything.
For a moment, no one spoke.
The Hunters stared wide-eyed, frozen in disbelief.
None of them had expected Seijirou to strike first, much less with such precision and force.
The leader groaned as he tried to lift himself, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
A few of his men rushed to help him, their hands trembling slightly as they pulled him up.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at Seijirou with hatred burning in his eyes.
His voice came out low and furious. "You… you bastard. How dare you... How dare you..."
Then, he straightened, pointing at Seijirou and the others with a shaking hand. "Kill them. Kill them! I want them dead!"
Chairs scraped. Bottles shattered.
And the room erupted into chaos.