I am not a kind-hearted angel, nor am I here to bestow celestial grace upon this despairing world as my parents hoped. I'm here to blast down the facade of lies and hypocrisy. I'm here to bring retribution and balance. I will take back what rightfully belongs to me. And to those who took everything from me and countless others, I'll make you pay, with every drop of blood and every tear you cry.
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Afternoon, 2pm, random alleyway:
"Ayeee," one of the delinquents gave his mate a high five, "C'mon, hand me some of that stuff!"
"Alright, alright, hold up," the other said, shaking his bottle of met capsules before dropping a pill into his palm. "Here, here!" He handed it over and watched the guy gulp it down like candy.
From outside the dark valley, a figure approached.
??: "Hey." The figure wore a cap that covered half their face. "Where did you guys get that stuff?"
"Hahhh?" They were too high to respond properly. "Who the fuck are you? You don't look like one of us, hah, kid? Where's your bracelet?" He shoved the figure's shoulder.
"Bracelet?"
"Ah!" The other raised his left hand. "That's right. If you don't got a bracelet, don't just start talkin'!"
There was a black-banded bracelet with a metal tag wrapped around his wrist.
"Get the damn rules righ-, UGGSHH!" Before he could finish, a thrashing punch smashed into his stomach.
"EH-" CRASH. A few swings later, both were paralysed on the ground.
"Let's see…" She removed her cap and let out an exhale of mockery, revealing her pixie-pink hair.
"Valhalla, huh…?" She ripped one of the bracelets from their wrists and read the embedded metal tag. "How lame." She slipped it onto her wrist. "Can't help it. Tch."
This new "Ruler of the Night" must've come up with a system to separate the people of the night city from civilians. Such an outdated method.
They could've used a tech-based ID system with card readers. It'd be harder to steal... unless that was the point.
Maybe the Ruler encouraged theft? Hard to tell what kind of crazy pervert this guy was turning out to be.
But one thing became clear to Angel: the syndicate world still existed. Someone had taken over her father's place.
And whoever they were, they had to be ten times more sick in the head to invigorate minors into drug trafficking like this.
These so-called daylight delinquent gangs were just anxious, depressed teenagers recruited to entertain the "higher-ups."
They were offered a way out of their miserable lives by forming gangs, bonding over shared purpose, and diving into the thrills of the night.
Other than delinquents, every active member of the night had their own accessory depending on which group they belonged to.
The bracelet's colour would vary, and sometimes had names engraved, though no one really bothered to check.
To draw more minors into the night, the syndicates made gang membership the first step, the "ticket" to this so-called freedom.
Anyone who wanted to work, enter clubs, or participate in anything within the territories needed a tag. The most common way to get one was by joining a gang.
Adults over 25 would usually join syndicates directly, using their connections.
Each delinquent gang operated under a larger syndicate group. They managed small crimes and held the territory during the day.
To start a new gang, one had to be accepted by a syndicate and become a branch under them.
.
It was 11:56 PM. Angel entered the elevator, going down.
As she exited through the gate, the security guard stood. "Excuse me, Missy, please don't leave your room at this hour."
Before he could finish, she swung her bracelet and dashed off.
"Already..?" he muttered to himself. "Didn't she just arrive… These bastards are getting more active by the day…" He shook his head helplessly.
Angel's first goal was to gather information. Then, she'd decide on a plan.
According to the delinquents she overheard, the Roppongi district was the busiest , a cesspool of illegal luxuries, where the world's worst people gathered.
On her way there, she saw the night streets her mother once wrote about. Except that the "sin" had grown worse.
Minors littered the roads, immersed in crime and nudity. Drugs were being used on everyone, everywhere. Violence and bloodshed were daily routines.
It chilled her. She was strong, yes, trained by her parents since childhood and kept training after their death.
Her martial arts were practically national level, but she wasn't invincible.
She sighed and walked toward the "rising star" of the area: the Musō nightclub, run by the Muteki Group, the biggest syndicate right now.
She lined up. When her turn came, she flashed the Valhalla bracelet and handed the guard a stack of cash.
"Take off your mask and cap before entering."
She nodded, did as was told, and walked in. The cold air reeked of alcohol and bodily fluids. The bar was massive, filthier and far larger than the Akiyama Club.
Sex, violence, drugs… There was no crime missing here. At least Akiyama had some sense of order.
As she ventured deeper, a hand grabbed her shoulder.
Angel flinched and turned.
"You don't look like you belong here." It was a man, black hair, tattoos, and earrings. He looked like a cold-blooded vampire. Cold enough that just looking at him numbed her.
He spoke in English. "No foreigners allowed. Haven't you learned the rules?"
Maybe it was her mixed features.
She yanked him down by the collar. "Too quick to judge, aren't ya?" She replied in Japanese, smirking.
She tossed him aside and walked off.
But as she reached the bar, the same hand clenched her wrist.
She turned, visibly annoyed.
"Come with me." His dark red eyes were razor sharp.
"Was that your attempt to threaten me?" she scoffed. "Go learn some manners first."
His eyes widened in fury. A few veins popped on his forehead.
"Pissed off!" She tried to shake him off, but he wasn't letting go. He began dragging her toward a hidden backroom.
He threw her against a cream wall, pinning her down with a scowl.
Angel reacted on instinct. She yanked down his elbows, kneed his gut, and when his grip loosened, swung a kick to his head. She spun behind him and slammed another kick into his spine. He dropped to his knees. She pinned him down with her weight and pulled the pistol from his back pocket.
"Asshole." Her golden eyes narrowed, pressing the gun to the back of his head.
Then she saw the white leather bracelet on his wrist and froze.
"Shirashi… Seiya…" She loosened her grip. "Muteki Group's number 3…" A crooked smile crept across her lips.
"Damn brat…" Seiya groaned, pushing himself up.
Angel slid off him like a ball down a slope.
He hadn't expected that. It was his mistake for being careless; he could've taken her if he hadn't been caught off guard.
"Umm…" She stayed seated, looking up at him with sparkly eyes. "Hahaha… uhhh… I'm uh, sorry for that."
Seiya grabbed her wrist, the one holding the gun, and yanked her up with one arm, glaring at the tiny figure hanging in the air.
"So… uh… why did you ask me to come with you?" She gave a chibi smile.
"Name?"
"I go by Angel."
"Real name?"
"…" She pouted. "Why does it matter?"
"…" Seiya set her back on her feet.
"Um…" she hesitated. "Don't tell me you brought me here just to ask my name?"
"What's wrong with your real name?"
"Huh? How did you,"
"Then why hide it?"
"I just don't see a reason to tell you."
"You look familiar." He lifted her chin. "What's your name?"
"Familiar? You know me?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Uhhh… don't think I know a Seiya but…"
Her parents once led the underworld with other groups…
"Hm… Shirashi… the Shirashi Group…!?"
Eight years ago, the Akiyama Group ruled all of Japan alongside the Ōshiro Group (Shikoku, Kyūshū, Okinawa), the Nakano Group (Kansai, Chūgoku), and the Shirashi Group (Tōhoku, Hokkaido) , Akiyama's most trusted ally.
"…" So she did know him.
"Uhh… so you're… Shirashi Shino's son?"
"You must be new," he replied. "Or more like… old."
"Huh?"
"You guessed I was his son just from the name." He crossed his arms.
"Well, yeah? Obviously?"
"Not obvious. Last names are common now, unlike eight years ago."
Angel's mind spun. Last names used to be exclusive to syndicates. When did that change?
"Looks like I've found a piece of history." His cold face softened. "So," he sighed. "Name?"
"You could've checked my tag bracelet, but you didn't. So I guess you knew it wasn't mine?"
"Obviously. I know Valhalla's members. You're not one."
"Huh? You memorised their faces?"
"Of course not. I've met the whole gang. You're... not one. I'd have remembered you."
"Unique as in gender?" she joked. "Or because I'm cute?"
"Stop dodging. I asked for a name."
She hesitated. It wasn't safe to reveal her identity, not after hinting she was tied to events from eight years ago.
"Um… Ōshiro Hana." She made it up on the spot. A name that might work.
"Ōshiro Group?"
"Yeah… hahaha." Lying was not her forte.
"Since when did Ōshiro Sora have a daughter?"
"I've been overseas my whole life." Another lie. "Came back to find my dad."
"…" He sighed. "Sora's dead."
"Oh…" The most honest reaction she could manage. "I… kinda guessed. Do you know how he died?"
"My old man killed him. Killed all of them." He walked over and sat on the couch.
"What? All… who?"
"All. Everyone from the Akiyama Group."
"…why?" Her mind blanked.
She remembered Shirashi Shino, warm, kind, always visiting their home.
"Probably for power."
"So your father… Shirashi Shino… is now…"
"Muteki Group's number 1. Supreme leader of the underworld." He looked up. "The Ruler of the Night."
Silence. No breath. No words.
"Why… how can you talk about this so comfortably…?"
Seiya stared at the floor. His silence felt heavy. He didn't seem happy; she could read that much.
"I know…" Angel whispered. "Comfortable might not be the right word… but Seiya-san,"
"Ayumi."
"Huh?" Her feet stumbled back. Her face melted into confusion and disbelief.
She didn't know how to respond. Or if she even heard him right. He just...called her what?