The sacrifices, sacrifices here and there
families killing until the last of
the politicians and the rulers are tampering with their money wherever they want.
This was always the case
but after Ezra appeared, the situation changed
Many forces revolted because of these forces that contributed to the success of their revolution and their taking of the northern part of the country.
But despite this, humans remain humans and their greed will never disappear.
After taking the northern part, they fought over dividing the lands among themselves.
Even after a long dispute, war and bloodshed,
five powers settled down
each ruling a part of the lands and having its own specific tasks and responsibilities towards its inhabitants.
And among these events, our story begins in one of the dark alleys.
"Damn this."
The policeman pointed to his desperate situation, lying in one of the dark alleys due to an injury in his back, his blood flowing heavily.
"Kyoja, can you hear me, Kyoja?"
He called hoarsely to his companion who was lying next to him.
He looked at him—he was drowning in his own blood, his eyes frozen, and soon he realized he was dead.
He had been killed by the men of the 22 Dragons. "Kyoja, I… I'm sorry, you died because of me, I… aghhh."
The policeman found nothing to do.
Nothing was left for him but regret—regret for his dead friend, grief—grief for his wife who would become a widow, pity—pity for his little son who would become an orphan.
How difficult this feeling is—the feeling of slowly sinking into the depths of death.
The sound of hurried footsteps, three shadows appeared from the darkness.
"Look what we have here."
They were the men of the 22 Dragons; they had been following the policeman's blood trail.
They had been chasing them to silence them once and for all.
"Let's end his suffering now, brothers."
With that cold phrase, the three of them pulled out their pistols and aimed them at the policeman.
There was no escape now.
His body trembled, he was afraid—afraid of death.
At that moment, he closed his eyes like a frightened little child, waiting for his end, waiting for the trigger to be pulled.
And suddenly, the sounds of the dark alley were filled with the clashing of iron, its violent echoes, and the cries of the three men as if they were being beaten mercilessly.
The policeman opened his eyes and saw two men being savagely beaten and lying on the ground
their groans echoing through the alley.
And then he saw him—what he imagined to be the embodiment of darkness—holding the third man and choking him against the wall.
"Wh-who are you, bastard? Don't you know who we are?"
In a desperate and defiant tone, the third man shouted these words at the strange figure. Even in his last moments, he thought the name of his organization could save him.
The strange man grabbed his head and began smashing it repeatedly against the wall until his skull shattered and parts of his brain splattered around. Such a cruel method.
"Hmmm… haaaaa."
The strange man sighed after what he had done, as if he was used to such things and such methods.
"Hmmm…"
The strange man noticed the policeman lying on the ground and walked toward him.
With every step, the policeman's heart pounded harder, as if warning him that death itself was coming closer to take his soul.
When he drew nearer, the policeman began to see his features.
He was neither tall nor short, wearing a crimson cloak soaked in dark red with parts of it blackened.
He carried with him a pair of iron rods, one of them sharpened.
He approached the policeman and looked at him with a cold gaze, as if staring at his soul.
Then he took the policeman's gun.
"Bang!! Bang!!! Bang!!!!"
He shot the three men without batting an eye. Then he handed the gun back to the policeman and made him hold it. Then—
"Are you the death?"
The policeman asked in fear, unable to believe what he had just witnessed, too shocked to think.
The strange man did not answer.
Instead, he placed his hand over the policeman's wound, and something black, like smoke, came out of it. It entered the wound, and the bleeding stopped.
The policeman did not understand what had happened, but he was healed. Then the strange man guided the policeman's hand holding the gun to his own forehead.
"If you want to kill me, this is your chance."
The policeman's hand trembled after hearing those words.
His feelings wavered between pulling the trigger to kill this butcher or letting him go.
In the end, he gave up and threw the gun away.
"No… I can't do it you saved me."
The strange man stood up, his face showing disappointment, and began to walk away.
"Please, please protect our streets and rid us of these corrupt men."
The policeman directed these words full of hope at the strange man, as if pleading for a hero—a hero who would stand for justice.
"Hahaha… haaaaaa!!!!"
The strange man began to laugh hysterically, as if the policeman had told a joke. The policeman froze in astonishment.
"You're just a lucky man. You were in the right place at the right time—that's all there is to it."
The policeman swallowed hard at those words.
"I don't care about the lives of others, whether good or evil. I only seek pain—the pain that will atone for my sin."
As he spoke these words and walked into the darkness, a word appeared on the wall, written in the blood of the three men:
[JASHIN]