Making a living in the shadowy depths of the sorcerer society's underground is undeniably the most brutal existence imaginable. It is a constant trial by fire; if one manages to cling to life for more than a single week, they have proven themselves capable of surviving anything the world can throw at them. This hidden stratum of society is a crucible of violence and ambition, a place where every shadow holds a threat and every moving thing harbors the intent to kill. To carve out a name here, to ascend from anonymity to a figure of power, is not just an achievement—it is a feat that commands genuine awe and deserves to be worshipped by those trapped beneath.
Survival in this treacherous realm is not granted; it is earned through acts that cement one's reputation. Respect here is a currency paid in fear and efficacy. Once the populace, or the rival gangs, or the established powers, begin to truly fear you, their reaction will be binary: they will either desperately seek to align themselves with your rising power, hoping to share in your spoils and protection, or they will dedicate themselves entirely to your destruction, fearing the scope of your ambition.
Safety is nonexistent in the underground; the idea of a "safe and comfortable life" is a delusion. While one can achieve immense wealth and power through ruthlessness, perhaps even becoming the richest person in Japan, this comfort comes at the cost of eternal vigilance. The higher one climbs, the larger the target on their back. The underground demands perpetual strength, as any sign of weakness will lead to the violent loss of everything gained.
I intend to gain that respect by seeking the foulest, most powerful folks down here and demonstrate my powers. Here the currency is fear.
I used the Kuromuno-kai money to rent a cramped, blood-smelling hole deep in the city center—an eternal night. I stole a black, high-cut dress, boots, and gloves, finally blending in. I stopped hiding my marks, claiming they were from a backfired Aspect. Here, looking strange was normal; everyone was a freak. My outfit I stole from a neighbour and "backfired energy" just made me another peculiar figure in a peculiar game. Being a shadow was the best protection in this cursed place.
The neon glow of the city's underbelly seemed to coalesce here, in the heart of the district dedicated to vice. Nightclubs. These weren't places for dancing or casual conversation; they were predatory hives, the best places to meet the biggest scum who paid in untraceable cash and asked no inconvenient questions. A perfect hunting ground for those who thrived in the shadows.
The district, packed with illicit establishments on every corner, made sleeping virtually impossible. The air vibrated with a low, aggressive hum of tension and barely contained violence.
The notorious 'Black Sun,' the biggest club in town, was just right around the corner. Its presence was a perpetual, audible assault. I could always hear the jarring cacophony spilling from its heavy, sound-dampened doors, somebody releasing a guttural wraith, then the unmistakable sounds of drunken growling and delusional dreams. People here would fight over anything, from spilled drinks to perceived slights, their aggression amplified by cheap booze and the oppressive atmosphere. These clubs were not just dens of low-level criminality, but where major shady businesses were brokered, and where secret, crucial meetings of gang members took place, hidden from the light.
Entering the low-lit, smoky bar, I was immediately met with hostile stares. The loud, aggressive Japanese rock, which should be illegal, blared. Knives were drawn and the chilling hum of dark Aspects activating vibrated through the floorboards. My recent actions had evidently preceded me, earning me a quick reputation.
That recognition invited a slow, confident smirk onto my face. Reputation meant power here, and power meant leverage.
Ignoring the surrounding tension, I strode with deliberate nonchalance and sat down at the bar. The bartender was a bulky-looking dude, his physique speaking of more than just pulling pints, and he was missing a significant chunk of his left ear—a likely testament to a prior confrontation. He gave me a wide, hungry smile that was far from welcoming.
"What can I get ya?" His voice was a low rasp, cutting through the din.
"A double sake on the rocks will do," I replied, my voice steady, betraying none of the internal calculation.
"Coming right up." The bartender poured the drink, his predatory grin suggesting my survival here was unlikely. I stared straight ahead, avoiding eye contact; I'd already drawn too much attention. It was only a matter of time before an ambitious thug approached, and when they did, I'd have to kill someone.
But I wasn't here for a brawl; I was here for intelligence. I needed information, specific, actionable data about the major gangs operating around here. I wanted to know everything about them: their exact hierarchy structure, their weaknesses, their alliances, their Aspects—everything that could give me an advantage.
I sipped my strong drink, letting the burn calm my nerves. My eyes found their target: a man sitting alone in a secluded corner booth, clearly distinct. Dangerous seduction was often the best way to get answers, a skill I knew well.
My walk through the dense lobby was a predatory performance. I moved with obvious, intimidating grace, making it clear to every gang member, lowlife, and customer that I was dangerous. While I was strong, I couldn't fight them all. I didn't need to. My aura, palpable confidence, and cold menace were enough to instantly intimidate everyone nearby..
I slid into the booth and sat down directly opposite the man, making myself immediately the center of his universe. I then smoothly pulled out a cigarette, my eyes never leaving his. He leaned forward, extending a sleek, silver lighter in a gesture of courtesy that felt loaded with unspoken danger.
His appearance was striking: his face was pale, almost ghostly, framed by a shock of white hair. His eyes, however, were what held my attention—a piercing yellow, eyes or a killer.
A long, thin scar ran cleanly across his face. He was young and slender, likely close to my own age, but he was dressed smartly—expensive, tailored clothes that spoke of wealth and status. Most importantly, his Aspect energy was not just powerful; it was overwhelming, a dark, suffocating force that filled the booth.
I smiled, a genuine, calculating curve of the lips. I realized I hadn't just picked a random target; I had picked the right person to approach.
"I have my own lighter, thanks." My tone, a mix of challenge and seduction, declined his offer.
Instead, I used my Aspect to light the cigarette with a tiny finger-flame. As it caught, my eyes reflected the minimal light, holding his gaze in a deliberate invasion of his space.
I slowly exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it curl between us before I finally spoke. "You have a pretty face. What's your name?"
His response was immediate, his voice low, cold, and utterly malicious. "The name is Kurogumo Kiyotugu. You look interesting. Perhaps you want to tell me a bit about yourself first." Yet, despite the coldness, there was a spark of genuine curiosity in his unsettling yellow eyes, matched by a dangerous, expectant smile playing on his lips.
Kurogumo. The name resonated instantly. Was he a member of the infamous gang? More precisely, was he a part of the feared Kurogumo family?
Boy, it's my lucky day. I came here hunting for big fish, and I just happened to get the biggest one on my hook.
A sharp, calculating smile appeared on my face, matching the menace in his own.
"Who I am is not important," I stated simply. "I am here because I'm in need of a job, and I don't take just any job. I only work for those who can pay me well enough to be worth my time."
"And just what type of job are you looking for?" He leaned back slightly in his seat, his arms crossing. He was clearly interested now, but his posture was that of a highly observant, cautious predator, still nonchalant and there was something charming yet dangerous about him. He probably pegged me as a young, pretty loudmouth, trying to get by on pretty privilege.
"I can take people out for you if you want." I leaned in, keeping my voice low and intense. "My Aspect is versatile and meant to kill. You will not regret giving me a job. In fact, you'll be asking for more."
He smiled, a dark amusement flickering in his eyes. I had peaked his curiosity; the smile on his face was of excitement and sarcasm at the same time.
"Take people out, huh? You certainly look like somebody who would have the stomach for a nasty job like that. Very well." He leaned forward again, bringing his pale face closer. The dim light of the club caught his yellow eyes, making them glow with an unmistakable menace as he looked straight into mine.
"Come with me. Let's put you to the test, see if you can actually do the job or not. If you prove useful to us, we will consider taking you in as one of our permanent assassins. And don't worry," he concluded, his smile widening into a promise and a threat, "You will be paid plenty."
I didn't flinch, didn't give in to the intimidation. I leaned forward until my face was inches away from his, our breaths mingling in the stale air.
"When are we going?" I challenged, cutting straight to the action.
After a loaded pause, Kurogumo Kiyotugu stood up and turned around. Simultaneously, five massive men stood up from nearby tables—his personal bodyguards, no doubt. The sheer number and quality of his protection instantly confirmed my suspicion: He must hold a very high status in the gang if he's so well protected.
"I like your confidence," he said, granting a smirk. "We are leaving now."
He walked out of the club, his five bodyguards forming a protective barrier around him. One of the men, a giant of a thug, clamped a vice-like grip on my arm and pulled me unceremoniously up from my seat. They led me outside into the chill night air where a sleek, black car was waiting at the curb.
I was roughly pushed into the back of the car, forced to sit right next to Kiyotugu. His presence was overwhelming, radiating an unnerving mixture of arrogance, entitlement, and raw, unchecked power. I knew, with absolute certainty, that he wouldn't hesitate for a second to kill me if I made the slightest wrong move or flinched under his scrutiny.
Throughout the entire journey, he remained completely silent, staring straight ahead. The quiet was more unsettling than any threat. I didn't know what awaited me when we arrived at the Kurogumo headquarters. They could very well simply kill me and leave my body to rot somewhere in an empty, forgotten chamber. Survival depended on maintaining absolute composure and projecting an aura of unflappable competence. I had to keep my cool if I wanted to impress them, to earn their respect, and especially his.
He is actually rather handsome, - I mused, a cold calculation forming in my mind. -
I could very well turn this to my advantage.