Prologue – A World on the Edge
The year was 2120, and Earth had become a shadow of its former self. Crops withered in the fields, rivers ran thin, and famine gnawed at every corner of the globe. Governments had fallen, societies crumbled, and hope seemed like a distant memory.
Then, one night, the sky split open.
The Kezino came. Tall, humanoid, their hands ending in scoping tips that glimmered like blades, they floated above the cities with an eerie grace. Their leader, Jizo, announced a solution: a tournament. Death would be the cost, but the prize was life — food, enough to feed the winning nation for a year.
Sizu, Jizo's daughter, pressed her hands against the observation window. Her eyes, wide with unease, followed her father's movements. "Father… does it have to be this way?" she whispered.
Jizo's gaze was cold, unflinching. "Justice is meaningless, Sizu. Only survival matters."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. Somewhere in her chest, a seed of doubt had begun to grow.
Chapter 1 – Hunter World
In Tokyo, Japan's last hope rested in the shadowed halls of Hunter World, a training facility hidden beneath the city. Jin Kazama moved like a ghost, his senses alert, testing the limits of his new abilities.
The memory of the bat bite returned — the night everything changed. The venom had surged through him, reshaping his body, sharpening his reflexes, and giving him powers he barely understood. It had been terrifying at first, but now… now it was his weapon.
"Jin! Stop spacing out!" Yuki's voice cut through the dim light. She stood nearby, clipboard in hand, a mixture of exasperation and concern in her gaze.
Jin straightened, forcing a grin. "I'm ready," he said, though his chest still thumped with nerves.
Yuki stepped closer, her hand brushing his shoulder lightly. "Ready or not, the tournament is coming Japan is counting on you."
He swallowed hard. The weight of the nation pressed down on him, heavier than any physical burden he had ever lifted.
Chapter 2 – The World Prepares
Around the globe, the other nations were readying their champions.
In the United States, Jekob cleaned the edges of his dual blades, recalling the night CEO Jessi had pulled him off the streets and given him purpose. Every strike he made now was a promise to her, a vow he would not fail.
In China, Mei Ling tightened the straps on her fan. The ice dragon behind her coiled and hissed, scales glittering under the cold light. Her eyes were fixed on a single target: Jin Kazama. There was no hesitation. Only bloodlust.
India sent Aditya, a boy of sixteen, laughing as he twirled his Sun Blade through the air. The world whispered about him, calling him the tournament's brightest hope. He didn't seem to notice the danger, or perhaps he didn't care.
Ava Sinclair, elegant and calculated, sharpened her rapier with a flick of her wrist, while Julia Moreau focused on the glow of her twin swords, thoughts drifting to her CEO, Alain. Klaus Reinhardt, muscles taut and expression unreadable, swung his massive hammer experimentally. And in Russia, Ivan Volkov stood silently, a mountain of calm menace, sizing up the competition like prey.
Each had trained, honed, and sacrificed. Each had one goal: survive.