Chapter 16
A Way to Fall
Five minutes earlier…
"You will… enlighten me?" Akira replied to Kamoshida with a raised, mocking eyebrow. "You, the guy who just admitted to having failed in all his endeavors, and now lays in a pool of his own blood, is going to enlighten me to the ways of the world?"
Kamoshida attempted a laugh, but instead gargled up more blood and bile. Akira was disturbed by the notion that he was almost growing accustomed to the image. "Do you have any idea what it takes to be an Olympian, kid? It takes more than just talent, you know. You need dedication, willpower, both of which on a level unlike anyone else in the world. That's you become the best in the world."
"Yeah? So what?"
"So don't you think that the best in the world deserves some kickback for their efforts."
"Just shut up."
Kamoshida let out another gargling laugh. "I really doubt you go many girlfriends with that kind of attitude. You're so standoffish and short with people."
"Because you're a literal murderer."
"Most of these boys and girls are druggies, runaways, dropouts, drunks, you know. The worthless type. Impressionable, easy, stupid."
"So you take advantage of the less fortunate? And you think that legitimizes anything? What about those girls you imprisoned that we broke out? They didn't seem like druggies or drunks."
"They weren't. They were just impressionable idiots. Little, small town girls in a big, scary city that could barely tell their left from their right if they didn't know the name of every street in town. Easy pickings for us."
"And Kasumi? She's a successful gymnast."
"And the kind of girl who walks around alone at night in a skimpy leotard. She was just asking to eb shown to the rougher side of town –"
Akira put the barrel of his gun to Kamoshida's forehead, briefly silencing him. "Is anything remotely sacred to you anymore?"
"What do you think, hero-boy?"
"So that's a no?"
"It is. Tell me, kid, is this the hardest thing you've ever done?"
Akira grew equally more confused and angry at Kamoshida's roundabout responses. "What are you getting at?"
"Have you ever had the literal weight of the world on your shoulders? Have you ever known that the entire human race is watching your every move like a hawk? Both in your professional and private life?"
"…No."
"Were you just an ordinary high schooler living off mom and dad's paychecks before you came here? Have you ever had to try for anything?"
Akira pressed his gun harder into Kamoshida's head, leaving a deep mark on his brow. "Shut. Up."
"I had to try. My whole life, I had to try. And every success brought more pressure, more risks, higher stakes. I knew it would never end until I was on the top of the world. And even with all those hyenas hanging around me, piling their expectations on me, waiting for me to fail so they could scoop up my losses, I won. I won like only a few people in history have ever won before. I proved them all wrong! You have no idea what it's like to have the world look down on you, set impossible expectations for you, then rise above it all anyway! So, after that, I took everything I could back, just to spit in the face of those who doubted me, or wanted me to fail."
Akira paused for a moment. He had little in the way of a response ready for Kamoshida's diatribe. But then, he felt a heat in his gut, a ringing in his ears. It was familiar, disturbingly so. His eyes stung, his core burned like someone was gradually heating up a lump of coals inside him, and his hands began to shake. With nothing more than a throaty grunt, Akira grabbed Kamoshida by the afro and threw him against the wall. A splatter of blood appeared on the wall behind him, and Kamoshida groaned in pain, before breaking out into a crackling laugh.
"Your accomplishments don't mean anything compared to what you did with them. You think I should respect you for your achievements? Or pity you for having to work so hard? Fuck that. You're a deviant and a serial killer. Nothing you can say will ever make me think any more of you than that."
"Well, then what are you going to do?" Kamoshida asked. "Are you going to kill me?" Akira's eyes widened as if faced with a disturbing truth. "Is that why you have a gun digging into my gut? You want to talk down to me for killing people, while you obviously want to send me to mee the Big Man in the sky."
"Are you saying we'd be the same if I did? Because math would say otherwise."
"Then go ahead!" Kamoshida shouted at him. "If it really wouldn't make the same, wouldn't actually do anything to you, then go ahead and pull the trigger!" Kamoshida grabbed Akira's gun with both hands and held the barrel to his forehead forcefully. "Go ahead, hero-boy! If you're so confident in the karmatic balance of it all, then just go on and end me!"
Akira pulled the gun away from Kamoshida and battered him across the face with it. A tooth broke in the man's mouth, and a bloody bruise was left on his cheek. But Akira did not lower his gun afterward. "I could kill you," he snarled, "right here, right now. But like Ann said, I won't become like you. I won't become anything like you!"
Kamoshida nodded weakly, then smirked. "At least your yakuza brothers have more guts than you, kid."
"What did you say?"
"I know who you're riding with, how you found me, how you got those pistols that aren't exactly civilian grade. You got them from the Families, meaning you're a goddamn criminal, just like me." Akira glowered at him vengefully. "So you say you won't become anything like me? You can say that with a straight face while still breaking the law every day, running around with people just like me, and even holding a fucking gun to my head!"
"Apples and oranges, asshole," Akira growled.
"I don't care what you do to me, kid," Kamoshida smirked, "I just want you to admit something to me."
"That I'm like you?"
"That you're like me," he nodded. "At least, that you're just a step away from going down this exact same road." Kamoshida showed off his bloody teeth even more before spitting in Akira's face. "Go ahead, kill me, end me like I can see you want to. It's as plain as the sky is blue, kid! That rage, that desire, neither of your friends had it quite like you. They didn't have the same fire in their eyes like you do right now—"
Akira kicked Kamoshida's nose with the toe of his shoe, sending his head reeling back, but the man did not cry out. He turned back and laughed , heartily and joyously, as the back of his neck began to bruise. Akira had damaged a muscle from the impact, but Kamoshida did not care in the slightest, even as the pain made his vision blur.
"You MONSTER!" Akira shouted.
"N-n-no," Kamoshida stuttered, holding a hand out to Akira, "I-I'm not the monster here, boy. Y-you are! You're a torturer wh-who calls himself a hero! And it makes me fucking ECSTATIC! The police are nothing, Akira! They can't do shit in this town, and if I had the chance, and you let me leave, I'd be sure to track down any fuckable woman you have in your family, and make them all the stars of my next picture!" Akira raised his gun once again, but more slowly. He pointed the barrel directly between Kamoshida's eyes.
Kamoshida nodded knowingly, letting the blood pour from his nose and smile. "You're gonna do it," he beamed. "You're going to kill me, I can see it. But don't worry, your boys back in the Family will see you as a hero. They'll praise you, commend you, even the cops will write your legend in their files after this is all done. But you'll know, in your heart, in your mind, in your bones, what you really did. You'll see it every time you close your eyes, when you're in bed, when you're with a woman, all you'll see is the man who wasn't some powerful beast or king, but a helpless human you ended in cold blood." Akira's senses were leaving him; he felt as if he was becoming hyper fixated on every syllable of Kamoshida's speech, though was not able to truly process what was happening.
"Wanna call bullshit on me? You know it won't mean anything, I've walked down this same path. But one day, you'll come out the other side and realize that those thoughts don't scare you anymore. Then, for one moment, you'll be terrified of that realization, before it fades away, and you'll never have a problem killing again." Kamoshida let out one more guttural laugh as he saw Akira's wrath well up in his eyes. "Do it," Kamoshida commanded. "Kill me, and walk out of here a changed man. Become the hero you think you are, Akira!" The younger man put slightly more pressure on the trigger of his gun. "You're a yakuza, aren't you!? Show them your will, and slay the beast!" The world around Akira went silent, isolated, cold. There seemed to only be Kamoshida and himself, in a dark, endless void.
Kamoshida laughed. "DO IIIIIT!"
Akira's ears rang as the gunshot reverberated off the walls. Kamoshida's head smashed against the wall behind him as the bullet traveled through his head and out the other end. Blood splattered behind him on the wall as he went still, leaning against the hard brickwork. For the briefest moment, Akira was utterly petrified by what he had done, but then he noticed the smile. Even in death, Kamoshida's smile did not fade, but was still pulled across his face like a taut rope. The image was sickening, and only infuriated Akira more.
"Stop laughing…" Akira muttered toward the corpse, but it did not obey his order. It continued to smile, as if mocking him. "Stop… laughing!" Akira shot another round into Kamoshida's head, releasing another deluge of blood all over the corpse and the wall. But even that did not diminish the smile. "Stop it! Don't laugh at me! You don't deserve to laugh at me!" Akira's finger curled around the trigger once more. "STOP LAUGHING!"
Akira unloaded seven more shots into Kamoshida's body, anything to remove that smile. After the four seconds needed to empty his clip, Akira was left standing in the hall alone with the corpse, clicking away at the trigger of his gun. Nothing came out save for the sound of the metal components attempting to coax out non-existent rounds, but Akira did not notice.
His thoughts were as empty as the room he was in, his sense of self and his surroundings were clouded and foggy. Endlessly, his final conversation with Kamoshida replayed in his mind, every detail as clear and crisp as if it were happening before him once again. The images then congealed and melded in front of him, beginning to overlap each other as if twenty televisions were replaying random scenes all at once. The sound was deafening, the images overwhelming. Akira lifted up his gun and tried to shoot one of the scenes, but it only quieted it for a moment. Every scene he shot made another scene around him louder. Even his own thoughts were drowned out in the deluge of memories.
As he continued to try to silence the scenes surrounding him, a voice that was not Kamoshida's barely made it to his ears. It was a woman's, sweet and soft but alarmed; it washed over his ears like a warm Spring breeze in a brutal Winter storm. For a moment, he was completely lost on who the voice may be, but through the continuing scenes of Kamoshida, off in the far distance, he spied Ann. She was silhouetted and blurry, but he recognized the shape of her head, her body, and her hair. The voice asked if he was alright, and half of him believed it to be another trick. But what if it's not…
He turned around slowly, still firing on the many Kamoshidas around him. Amidst the scenes was another collection of blurry figures, but none of them were Kamoshida. He recognized them vaguely, like looking at ancient photographs from one's early childhood. They did not scream at him like the Kamoshidas, they did not try to drown him out and bury him in their words. Even as the Kamoshidas crowded around them, they did not seem affected. Akira shot at the Kamoshidas around them, keeping them away from his friends… Yes, these are his friends. He knew that for sure now.
The tallest one, wearing a long coat and a tall gray cap, came toward him slowly, holding out his hands in front of him. The man came into focus slowly, and Akira recognized him as Iwai. As Iwai approached him, all the Kamoshidas around him seemed to explode in a cacophony of noise unlike anything he had ever heard, causing Akira to step back with a crazed and terrified expression.
Then all was quiet.
"Whoa, whoa," said Iwai in a near whisper. "Hey, easy." He stopped moving and held his hands up more emphatically, even though he knew the gun was empty. He did not know the full extend of Akira's mental taxation or possible trauma, so he was trying to be as calm and relaxed as possible so as not to freak him out further. Iwai took another glance behind Akira, quickly taking in the body of Kamoshida once again, then looked back to the young man. "Okay, Akira," he said, "you can give me the gun, alright? I'm not gonna hurt ya, you're okay now."
"I-I…" Akira stammered weakly. "I don't kn-know…"
"It's okay, that's okay," Iwai reassured him. "Now, just hand me the gun and we're gonna get you out of here safe and sound, alright?"
His mind still a thick and hazy fog, Akira looked behind Iwai to his friends. Ryuji was nodding to him, encouraging him to give up the gun. Kasumi looked completely terrified, but equally concerned for her savior. Ann, however, was shaking in her boots, swaying side to side uncomfortably. Akira was not aware of this, but Ann was literally fighting against her own body to keep herself from rushing him and taking him in her arms.
Akira finally internalized what Iwai was saying, and began to hand the empty gun over before his trembling hands dropped it to the ground. He backed away from it reflexively as if dropping his mother's fine china, but Iwai only assured him again he was okay and picked up the gun, putting it in his pocket. "Alright, now why don't we get all of you out of here, okay?" he looked between Akira and the other young adults. "You've all done more than enough for today, you need some rest."
Akira walked toward his friends slowly and shakily, stumbling over his own feet as he felt like his legs were melting under him. Ryuji immediately came over to offer him support, with Iwai doing the same on his other side. Kasumi and Ann came up to his front, with Ann wiping the blood from his face to confirm to herself that he was not injured. As the blood was cleared from his cheeks and under his eyes, Ann began to cry as she closely looked upon the state of her friend. Akira and Ann's eyes met, and he saw tears welling in her eyes. She felt all the vengeful wrath toward Kamoshida wash away, replaced only by a sense of sorrow and remorse as another one of her friends was reduced to such a state by his evil ways.
But it was only when Akira began to cry that the tears in her eyes streamed down her face.
Akira hung his head low as his senses and memories returned to him in clarity. All the gravity of the situation he was in falling on him at once like a massive sheet of metal being dropped on him from above. His eyes and cheeks stung, his chest clenched and tightened as he realized the truth. "I… I'm a m-murderer…" he said aloud. He repeated this three more times, Iwai and Ryuji being left at a loss for what to say. Kasumi began to cry to herself, shaking her head to Akira as if disputing his claim, even though she was aware of the truth. Ann wrapped her arms around his neck in a flash and quietly sobbed into his shoulder, though Akira threw himself back after a moment. Disconnected from the support of Ryuji and Iwai, he fell to the floor, a sense of humiliation and smallness seeping into him along with the despair he felt at realizing how he was a monster…
What happened next was a series of blurry images to Akira. He was in the halls, then out on the driveway in front of the building, then in the car, and now he was somewhere else. He was lying on a bed in room dimly lit with orange candles; their scent was herbal and earthy. His head pounded in his skull, but he could not move his hand up to rub his temple. He had never seen this place before, though for some reason did not feel in danger.
He closed his eyes as the migraine intensified, and to little surprise he saw Kamoshida's disgusting bloodied grin staring back at him behind his eyelids. The reality that he was a murderer returned to him in a great wave, and he gritted his teeth in anger at himself before attempting to banish the thought from his mind.
It did not work.
As he tried to stay off the second emotional breakdown he was aware he had had thus far, he heard the sharp plastic footsteps of what sounded like high heels approaching him from his left. To his left was an open doorway, and a tall, thin woman in a doctor's coat appeared in it. She had a high-raised, punkish hairdo and pale skin under dark, thick makeup. Her eyes were large and accentuated further by her dark eyeliner. In her arm, she also held an old, beat-up wooden clipboard. Under her doctor's coat was a black tank top with the word "MEGADETH" emblazoned across the chest, and black tights accentuated her thin legs down to her thick high heels.
The woman who Akira assumed was a doctor in spite of the majority of her appearance cocked her head to the side as they made eye contact. She then smacked her lips and nodded as she jotted something down on her clipboard.
"Good morning, sunshine," she greeted him in a strangely deep and sultry tone. "Did you have a nice nap?"
Akira glared at the doctor as his confusion increased. "Wh-what are you talking about? What time is it?"
"It's 4:28 a.m. I did say 'good morning', didn't I?"
"Did you give me anesthetics or something?"
"A little bit to ease off the anxiety attacks, but that was it. Your body just collapsed from the stress and needed time to recharge."
"C-collapsed?"
"Hmm, I guess it's not surprising you wouldn't remember all the details." The doctor sat in a chair beside him and looked at her clipboard once again, writing down something else. "I assume you'd like to know who I am and where you are, huh?"
"That would be nice," Akira joked weakly.
"Well, to start, I'm Dr. Tae Takemi. And although I am a medical practitioner, you're not in a hospital. You're actually back at LeBlanc, in one of the executive suites."
"Oh, you must be the Doc Ryuji talked about."
"That would be correct, yes."
"How… how did I get back here?" Akira asked.
"Iwai drove you and your friends, of course. You got back about noon yesterday and have been slipping in and out of consciousness since. You last woke up just under five hours ago, but I wouldn't exactly have called you lucid."
Akira felt some sensation returning to his body. His headache did not get any better, but at least he was now able to rub his forehead. "What happened after I—" he cut himself off before he admitted to his deed, trying to think of an adequate lie. Dr. Takemi, however, filled in the blanks for him.
"After you killed Kamoshida?"
"Wait, what?"
"I know what happened, it's okay," she nodded to him. "Boss told me everything I needed to know, and Sakamoto filled me in on about everything else. He and that Takamaki girl also informed me about the panic attacks you suffered all the way back here, though I didn't exactly need to be filled in on that one. You were starting another fit when you got here." Akira felt a strong sense of embarrassment creep upon him. "You know," Takemi continued, "most yakuza don't get nearly that bothered over their first kill. Most would think you're still a child trapped in a man's body if they heard about your reaction to what happened."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Akira glowered at her.
"I, however, see it as you having a strong sense of empathy." Akira had nothing in the way of a response to such a heel turn. "It was refreshing to know I'm not treating a jaded criminal or sociopath for once; that I have an actual human being in my care."
"Um, thanks?" Then like a cold dagger being driven into his ear, Akira experienced a sharp pain in his head, accompanied by a momentary flash of Kamoshida's face, uttering something about a "monster". He winced and grunted at the flashback before the world returned to normal around him.
"Are you alright?" Takemi asked casually. "If you're experiencing any more symptoms, please tell me."
"It's… some kind of flashback. Along with a migraine."
"I see," Takemi nodded, again writing on her papers. "What you're experiencing is fairly common, and these flashbacks may persist for a while. Sorry, but I don't really have any medicine for mental trauma. I'm not a psychiatrist."
"It's not your fault," Akira groaned. He then sighed, "It's mine."
"Now, I may not be a psychiatrist, but I know that kind of attitude isn't going to help you heal, in any capacity. You need to keep your body and your mind relaxed if you want any chance of getting better."
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Akira snided.
"At least you're still capable of cracking wise," Takemi got to her feet and walked across the room. Akira was not so inundated as to not notice the distinct sashay in her walk as she approached a table lined with medicine capsules. She opened one and brought two pills over to the young man. "Now, roll over and remove your trousers."
Akira gave her a glare both shocked and indignant. "You're shitting me."
"I am," she nodded, "just take these with the glass of water to your right. It'll help you relax and may reduce your flashbacks as well."
Akira did as he was told, the thought of not experiencing that stabbing pain again enticing him to move even against his body's painful disputes. When he swallowed the pills, he asked, "So what happened to my friends? Where are they?"
"Ryuji is in one door down, and Takamaki is in the room across from us with that Yoshizawa girl. Last I knew they were asleep, though it took the girl considerably longer to achieve that than Sakamato. I sure as hell don't blame her, though, after all you three have been through."
Akira nodded weakly. "At least they're safe," he groaned. "Have you ever done anything like that, Doc?"
"Absolutely not," Takemi chuckled. "'First, do not harm', you know?"
"Oh, yeah, right."
"But I can't say I disagree with your actions, if they may have been a bit gruesome. You were caught in a bad situation and responded in kind, along with probably more adrenaline than you've ever experienced in your life. You just be thankful you're unharmed."
"Trust me, I am." Akira sat up and rubbed his head before breathing sharply as another flashback came upon him, then vanished as quickly as it came."
"Another one?" Takemi asked.
"Yeah," Akira breathed slightly heavier. "Feels like an icepick inside my skull."
"I'll be monitoring it in case it gets worse. Just try to relax and maybe get some sleep for now, kid."
"Haven't I already slept enough?"
"Normally, yes." Takemi gently placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back onto the pillow. Akira's body was strangely unable to reject such advances. "But this isn't exactly normal. Rest. I'll be back to check on you later."
Akira sighed, his eyelids growing heavy. "Yes, ma'am," he muttered.
Takemi let out a soft, quiet laugh. "Good boy," she said as she left the room.
It did not take long for sleep to take Akira once again, though that also came with vivid nightmares. He experienced killing Kamoshida over and over again, every time being slightly different. Sometimes the walls were a different color, others he saw Kamoshida contort and transform into even more monstrous versions of himself. At the end of some more intense cycles, he would wake up in a cold sweat, breathing like he had just been held underwater. He was unaware of this, but no cycle that night lasted more than forty minutes.
At first, he was able to return to sleep rather quickly and uneventfully. But as the medicine began to wear off, the flashbacks would return, each more vivid and painful than the last as they repeated random moments from the confrontation, sans any of the more comforting aspects afterward. The first ones only made him wince, then following ones would cause him to gasp or writhe in pain for a moment. He already now dreaded going back to sleep, but now he was even afraid of waking back up. At least his dreams were not physically painful.
After one particularly nightmarish and brutal cycle, Akira woke up again and finally was lucid enough to check the time. "8:37", the clock to his right read. He was unsure as to how many times he had been awoken the previous night, nor if Takemi had ever returned, but that was neither here nor there now. After a moment of quiet, the flashbacks returned. With a grunt of pain, he saw Kamoshida mocking him, laughing jovially through his bloody smile. "…not the monster…" it cut off. Barely a moment to breathe, and it happened again. "You are… in cold blood…" The pain was increasing, he thrashed about on his bed every time. "You're like me…"
That line replayed over and over his head beyond his control. "like me… like me… like me…" No, I'm not! Tears began to fall down Akira's face, both from the pain and the thought of what he had said being true. "rage… desire…" "No-ho-ho," he cried softly, his hands covering his face as if to shield himself from the images in his head. "like me… like me…"
Akira let his hands fall from his face. His ears were ringing, and his body suddenly felt… light. Light enough for him to sit up in his bed. "like me…" still rang in his head over and over. He no longer argued against it, but only shook his head feebly. There was a bathroom across from him, and he entered it slowly. "Like him," he muttered. "Like him…"
"Do it," Kamoshida's voice whispered in his head. He saw the image of the man screaming it at him, but the sound it produced was only a whisper. Akira opened the medicine cabinet, seeing a toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo, a bar of soap, some towels…
And a razor.
"Do it," the voice said once again. "Like me…" "Like him," he repeated. I deserve this… Akira took the razor blade in hand and extended his other hand over the sink. The flashbacks were growing louder, a hundred needles gouged at his skull as he brought the cold metal to his skin. "Do it…" "Do it," he repeated. Kamoshida's whispers grew louder. "Do it, do it. Do it." The metal touched his wrist. "DO IIIIIT!"
He did not hear Ann enter his room. He did not notice her calling out his name when she saw his bedroom empty, the memories were too loud. Time seemed to skip until he heard a feminine gasp behind him.
Ann stared into the bedroom, and saw blood pouring from Akira's wrists as he leaned over the sink. He did not seem to notice her, or at least did not acknowledge her presence. She covered her mouth and felt her eyes fill with tears.
"I deserve it," Akira muttered.
"I… am a monster."
…
Son
You've got a way to fall
They'll tell you where to go
But they won't know
Son
You'd better take it all
They'll tell you what they know
But they won't show
Oh
I've got something in my throat
I need to be alone
While I suffer
Son
You've got a way to kill
They're picking on you still
But they don't know
Son
You'd better wait to shine
They'll tell you what is yours
But they'll take mine
Oh
I've got something in my throat
I need to be alone
While I suffer
Oh
There's a hole inside my boat
And I need stay afloat
For the summer
Long
Oh
I've got something in my throat
I need to be alone
While I suffer
Oh
There's a hole inside my boat
And I need stay afloat
For the summer
Son
You've got to wait to fall
They'll tell you where to go
But they won't know…
…
"You have ONE missed call."
BEEP
"Hi there, Akira. It's your dad. It's been a while since we talked, and I just wanted to make sure you're doing okay. Your mom told me all about your conversation with her, how things have happened recently, how you feel. I just want to let you know that I'm proud of you for being so strong. I always knew that you got your mother's strength of character, and I can only hope you're putting forth every bit of it every day now. I know you're going to be okay, and I wanted to remind you that no matter what happens, we both love you more than you can possibly imagine.
Call me when you get this, Akira. We're worried about you, but we know you've got what it takes to make it through this. Love you, son. Take care."
Beep
"End of final message."
…
"Well, this got fucked pretty quickly.
"I honestly didn't expect he'd have it in him."
"What the hell is Sakura thinking, putting that kid up to that? You think he still believes in that 'Heart of the Dragon' bullshit?"
"It's not bullshit, and you know it. Sakura seems to be going all in on that boy, and it looks like his bet might be paying off for now."
"Yeah, but what does that mean for us? Want us to put the kid on ice before he can really start fucking things up?"
"No, I don't. Actually, I want to see how this plays out for a little while."
"I thought you didn't like gambling."
"There's never a bad gamble if you run the house. The house always wins."
"Your confidence never ceases to amaze."
"My plans are coming to fruition even in spite of Sakura's little trump card. He may be hiding a pocket joker, but that's still not enough to beat out a royal straight flush. No matter what this kid does, it won't be of any consequence. Hell, he may prove to be a valuable asset.
"Can we recruit him then?"
"Not right now, no. We will wait, and see how the joker plays against the ace."
"Understood. We will be awaiting further instruction, Shido-san."
"You will not need to wait long. The main attraction has already been set in motion. I have high hopes for you, Mr. Terumi."
"I will exceed even such expectations, I guarantee it. I can only hope your ace will be able to match up."
There will be hell to pay in the city of decadence.
Akira Kurusu will return in The Phantom Dragon: The Honest Price