The gates of Kukuroo Mountain opened like the jaws of a beast.
Kaien stood at the threshold, the night wind whipping his long hair across his pale, ghost-like eyes. In his hands, the twin reverse-sickle blades glimmered faintly under the moonlight. He could feel the weight of them, not heavy but sharp with intent.
Illumi stood beside him, his face as unreadable as always, a roll of needles glinting in his hand.
"Your first mission," Illumi said flatly, as though it were a statement of the weather. "Don't hesitate. Hesitation makes corpses."
Kaien turned his pale eyes toward him. "I know."
But his heart pounded. Not from fear of failure—but from anticipation. For years, he'd trained, bled, and dreamed of this moment. Tonight, the blood he spilled would not be his own.
The target was a minor noble who had defied the wrong people. His mansion sat at the edge of a city, surrounded by tall walls and hired guards. Dozens of them, armed with spears, crossbows, and steel nerves sharpened by desperation.
Kaien and Illumi crouched on a rooftop opposite the estate.
"Thirty-two guards," Illumi whispered. His eyes flicked across the courtyard. "Two patrols at the front, more scattered inside. The target is in the east wing."
Kaien inhaled slowly, the night air burning cold in his lungs. His pale eyes traced the walls, the movements, the shadows. He could almost feel the flow of aura from the men below—raw and untrained, but loud enough to be read.
"Too many for a frontal assault," Kaien murmured.
Illumi glanced at him, the faintest flicker of approval in his eyes. "Correct. Then we go silent."
They moved. Two shadows cutting across rooftops, silent as mist.
When they reached the wall, Kaien's muscles coiled. He leapt, gripping the stone with calloused fingers, hauling his tall frame upward. His long hair brushed the stone as he pulled himself onto the ledge.
A guard turned. Kaien's hand snapped out. The kunai slipped from his gauntlet with a whisper, piercing the guard's throat before he could breathe a word. The man's body crumpled silently.
Kaien caught the corpse, lowered it gently, then exhaled. His pale eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
So this is it. Killing. No training dummy. No spar. A real man, with a family, with a life. Gone. Because of me.
But the hesitation lasted only a second. Then the thought passed. His grip tightened on the sickle-blade at his side.
I am Zoldyck.
Inside the walls, the guards moved in predictable patterns. Too predictable.
Kaien and Illumi ghosted through them, blades flashing in silence. Kaien's sickles hooked throats, sliced tendons, dragged men into the shadows. Each kill was efficient, not showy. But inside, his blood raced. Each strike made his body feel lighter, sharper.
One guard caught sight of him, torchlight gleaming off his pale eyes.
"What the—!"
Kaien moved faster than thought. His chain snapped, the sickle arcing outward. It hooked the guard's jaw, tearing flesh and bone in one savage motion. The man gurgled, blood spraying across the courtyard stones.
Kaien yanked the chain, the blade spinning back into his hand. His chest rose and fell, and for the first time, a small smile curved his lips.
This power… I was made for this.
They reached the east wing.
The noble sat inside, fat and sweating, surrounded by his last line of defense—six armored bodyguards. They held their weapons tightly, fear clear in their eyes.
Illumi turned to Kaien. "Your kill."
Kaien stepped forward. His aura bled outward, cold and oppressive. The bodyguards stiffened, their instincts screaming before their minds understood.
"Who are you?!" one shouted, brandishing his sword.
Kaien said nothing. His pale eyes fixed on the noble, who backed against the wall, trembling.
Then Kaien moved.
His chain-sickle lashed outward, hooking one guard's weapon and ripping it from his hand. In the same motion, Kaien spun, the other blade flashing across another man's throat. Blood sprayed, hot and coppery.
The room exploded in chaos.
Swords clashed against his sickles, sparks flying. Kaien's long hair whipped behind him as he ducked, twisted, his blades carving arcs of death. A thrust aimed for his chest—he twisted, caught the blade between his chained sickles, and wrenched it sideways, snapping the guard's wrist. His elbow slammed into the man's temple, caving it in with a wet crack.
Another charged from behind. Kaien spun, chain snapping, the blade whipping outward to pierce the man's skull. The body collapsed before the others even registered what happened.
Within seconds, the six bodyguards were down, their blood pooling across the marble floor.
Kaien stood among them, his chest heaving, his pale eyes glowing like moons in the torchlight.
Only the noble remained, sobbing, pressing his back against the wall.
"P-please! I can pay you! I—I can—"
Kaien's steps were slow, deliberate. He could feel the man's fear, taste it in the air. His aura pressed down like a blade against the throat.
He raised one sickle. For a moment, the world was silent.
Then the blade fell.
The noble's body slumped forward, lifeless.
Kaien exhaled slowly, wiping blood from his blade. His pale eyes stared down at the corpse for a long moment.
So this is killing. Not just training. Not just survival. This is the Zoldyck way.
He turned, his long hair brushing his shoulders. Illumi was watching him, black eyes unreadable.
"You didn't hesitate," Illumi said.
Kaien's lips curved faintly. "Neither did you."
Illumi tilted his head, then smiled—a cold, eerie smile. "Then you'll live."
When they returned to Kukuroo Mountain, Silva stood at the entrance, arms crossed. Zeno was beside him, his sharp eyes twinkling.
"Done?" Silva asked.
Kaien nodded once. "Done."
Silva studied him for a long moment, his gaze piercing. Then he gave the faintest nod.
"Good. You're one of us."
Kaien lowered his eyes briefly, then raised them again. His pale irises caught the moonlight, shining with quiet fire.
One of you? No. More than that.