Bonus chapter on hold for now. I am busy with some stuff, and can write too much. I will resume it soon, so don't worry.
Here is today's chapter.
Enjoy.
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Mei is image(Comment)
Akira's clothing(Comment)
Honoka's clothing(Comment)
***
Tonight, the Celestial Tower was lit up. Making sure every single soul in Shanghai knew about's it's existence.
It stood like a lighthouse made out of diamond and steel in the heart of the Pudong district, piercing the night sky. Its spiral architecture, designed to mimic a dragon ascending to the heavens, was illuminated by millions of embedded LEDs that shifted colors like a living aurora — shifting from imperial red to blue. It outshone the Oriental Pearl Tower. It outshone the Shanghai Tower. It declared to the world that the Celestial Axis was the center of the world tonight, and in all honesty, today it was.
It wasn't just a party. It was The Summit. The gathering of the titans who owned the economy, the heroes who owned the streets, and the politicians who pretended to own both.
The main avenues surrounding the tower were tightly locked down. Steel barricades, reinforced with quirk-resistant polymers and kinetic dampeners, blocked every intersection for three blocks. The airspace was a no-fly zone, patrolled by swarms of drones.
Five of China's Top Ten Heroes were present, standing guard at the perimeter checkpoints. Their capes fluttered in the wind, their presence a silent warning to any villain stupid enough to try something. Behind them, at least twenty other Pro Heroes patrolled the grounds, mixing with a massive force from the Shanghai Police Department and Celestial Axis's own private security contractors, who looked less like guards and more like cyborgs.
It was a fortress disguised as a gala. A cage made of gold bars.
In front of the main entrance, separated from the red carpet by a velvet rope and a wall of security guards with stone-faced expressions, stood the press.
Hundreds of them. It was an ocean of flashing lights and shouts.
Photographers with lenses the size of telescopes jostled for position, journalists with microphones shouted over each other, and streamers with floating camera drones buzzed overhead like a swarm of mechanical locusts. They were a writhing, shouting mass of hungry eyes, desperate for a single shot of a VVIP that would pay their rent for the month.
"My arm is cramping," a photographer muttered, adjusting the strap of his heavy camera. He was sweating in the humid Shanghai night air. "We've been standing here for three hours. If I see one more influencer trying to sneak in by claiming they know the DJ, I'm going to snap."
"Chill, man," his friend whispered, nudging him with an elbow. "Look alive. Here comes another one. The car is pink. That means money or bad taste. Usually both."
A sleek, hot-pink sports car pulled up to the curb, the engine purring with a deep, aggressive growl. The gull-wing door opened, and a young woman stepped out. She was dressed in a gown that cost more than the photographer's house, dripping in diamonds that caught the strobe lights of the flashes.
She struck a pose, pouting at the cameras, soaking in the attention. She wasn't a hero. She wasn't a CEO. She was the daughter of the Mayor, famous for being famous, known for her tantrums and her social media following.
"Oi, fuckers!" she yelled at the press line. "Take my pic properly! Get my good side! We don't want to disappoint the people looking at my pics! I have three million followers waiting for this fit check!"
The photographer sighed, lowering his camera slightly. "I hate this job. I hate it so much."
"If you punch that little bitch," his friend warned, seeing the vein bulging in the photographer's forehead, "you are cooked for life. Her father runs the city. He could have you arrested for breathing too loudly near her. Just click the button and think about the paycheck."
The photographer groaned, raising his camera again. "Yeah. No point thinking about it. I am only going to lose brain cells."
"Finally," his friend patted him on the back. "Talking like a man with common sense."
"Yeah, yeah."
The Mayor's daughter noticed the lack in the shutter clicks. Her plastic smile vanished, replaced by a scowl that looked much more natural on her face.
"OI!" she screeched, pointing a finger at them. "What are you doing?! Do you know who I am?! TAKE M—"
Her shout was cut short.
A limousine pulled up behind the pink sports car. It dwarfed the smaller vehicle. On the hood, gleaming in silver, was a family crest that caught the ambient light.
A five-petaled white flower.
The Plum Blossom. The crest of the Shuzenji family.
The Mayor's daughter turned around, furious at being upstaged, at the noise interrupting her moment.
"Who the fuck are you?!" she yelled, thrusting her middle finger at the tinted window. "Wait your turn! I'm not done! My father is the Mayor!"
The door opened, and a woman stepped out. It wasn't Honoka.
It was Mei Lin.
The First Wife of Jian Li stepped onto the red carpet. She wasn't wearing a ball gown. She wasn't wearing a suit.
She wore a black leather jacket over a silk top that hugged her athletic frame, showing off the definition of her shoulders. Her pants were tactical dress trousers, sharp and creased, tucked into combat boots. Her short black hair was sharp as a blade. A small beauty mole sat under her lip.
Her red eyes locked onto the girl. They didn't blink. She just stared at the piece of work in front of her.
The Mayor's daughter froze. Her middle finger was still extended, trembling in the air. The insult died in her throat.
Mei Lin looked at the finger. Then she looked at the girl's face.
"Get out of here," Mei Lin said. Her voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
It cut through the noise of the crowd. It was the voice of someone who had killed people in dark rooms and slept soundly afterward. "Before I cut that finger of yours off and feed it to the koi in the lobby."
The girl turned pale. The blood drained from her face so fast she looked like she might faint.
Even though she was a spoiled brat who lived in a bubble of privilege, she knew the limits. She knew the urban legends of Shanghai. She knew the stories her father whispered on the phone when he thought no one was listening.
The Blood Dancer.
Mei Lin wasn't a licensed hero. She didn't appear on the rankings. But in the underground fight rings, in the boardrooms where deals were enforced by violence, her name was whispered with fear. She was the woman who stood beside Jian Li when he had nothing. She was the woman who broke the bones of anyone who tried to take what was his. It was believed she had power equivalent to the Top 5 Heroes of China, but with none of the restraint and none of the mercy.
The brat lowered her hand instantly. She bowed quickly.
"P-Pardon me!" she squeaked.
She gathered her skirt and ran inside the building, nearly tripping over her own feet.
Mei scoffed, watching her go. "Brats."
She turned back to the limousine. Her demeanor shifted instantly from 'Assassin' to 'Professional'.
"The way is clear," she announced.
First, a leg stepped out. An elegant leg clad in sheer silk stockings, ending in a stiletto heel.
Honoka Shuzenji walked out.
The crowd of photographers gasped collectively. Shutters began to click like a machine gun barrage, the flashes creating a stroboscopic effect.
She was breathtaking.
She wore a gown that bridged the gap between high fashion and corporate power. It was an elegant black dress. Her chestnut hair was styled in an intricate updo, pinned with diamond clips that caught the light like stars.
She didn't smile. She didn't wave. She looked at the cameras with the cool gaze of a CEO who could buy the network they worked for and fire them all before breakfast.
"That's the Emberheart," a journalist whispered in awe, lowering his microphone slightly. "The CEO of Shuzenji Enterprises. The woman who kicked Celestial Axis out of Japan."
"She looks like she owns the place," another muttered.
"She might by the end of the night," the first replied. "Look at her. That's not a guest. That's a conqueror."
Honoka stood tall, waiting. She turned back to the car, her expression softening for a fraction of a second.
"Come on," she said softly.
Then, he stepped out.
Akira Shuzenji.
The flashes intensified, turning the night into day. The crowd leaned forward, sensing something different.
He wasn't wearing the yukata. He wasn't wearing a tracksuit.
He was wearing a custom-tailored black suit that fit him like a second skin. The coat was long, reaching his mid-thigh, giving him an old-world royalty vibe. The fabric was matte black, absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. Underneath, he wore a shirt the color of crimson red.
He wore black leather gloves. In his right hand, he held his red-lacquered kiseru pipe.
But the most striking detail was on his shoulder.
Nia.
The small black cat sat perched on his shoulder, looking out at the crowd with annoyed eyes. She was wearing a tiny, custom-made pink bowtie that matched nothing else in the ensemble, but still looked cute.
The boy looked like a villain. He looked like something out of a vampire movie.
"Who is that?"
"Is that the son?"
"Look at his eyes. They're glowing. Literally glowing."
"Is that a cat? Why is the cat better dressed than I?"
"You stupid bro..."
"He looks like a Yakuza boss. Are we sure he's a hero student?"
Akira stood beside his mother. He looked at the screaming mob of press. He didn't flinch. He didn't smile. He looked bored.
"Loud," he muttered to Mei Lin, tapping the pipe against his leg. "Do they always scream like banshees?"
"Marketing," Mei Lin shrugged, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Smile, Little Phoenix. You're on stage. Don't let them see you blink."
Akira sighed. He brought the pipe to his lips, just for a second, then lowered it.
He turned lazily to the crowd. He raised his gloved hand in a single, dismissive wave.
"Let's go," Akira said.
He offered his arm to his mother. Honoka took it, a proud smile finally touching her lips.
Together, flanked by the lethal grace of Mei Lin, they walked up the red carpet. They ignored the questions shouted at them.
The security guards parted instantly, bowing lower than they had for the Mayor's daughter.
The doors opened, and Akira stepped inside.
The game had begun.
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Nothing much, just a build up chapter....
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