The hum of the city faded the moment Adam arrived outside a decrepit industrial complex on the outskirts of Osaka's abandoned docklands. The area was silent—too silent. Rusted metal gates, tall fences, and shattered warehouse windows told the story of a place forgotten by time but reborn by violence.
"Nano," he said quietly, already cloaked in the night. "Scan the building. Map it. I want headcounts, guard placements, cameras, and mana traces."
[Affirmative. Scanning… 47 confirmed lifeforms. Heavily armed. 2 in command roles. 1 high-mana reading sealed in sublevel chamber—no movement. Presumed captive.]
He nodded. "And purchase me a Shadow Affinity skill, mid-to-high grade. Cloaking and movement priority."
[Acquired: Shadowmeld – Tier III. Blend into darkness. Silent movement. Accelerated evasion within dim environments.]
A grin ghosted his lips.
He melted into the shadows—literally. His body seemed to drip into the ground like black mist, emerging silently behind an isolated sentry near the rear entrance. A whisper of blood-forged dagger across the throat, a muffled gasp, and then nothing.
One by one, he carved through the outer perimeter—clean, efficient, surgical.
It wasn't long before the gang began to notice.
"Unit 4, report."
"…Unit 4?"
"Shit—check sectors 3 and 7. We got a breach!"
Too late.
Adam moved through them like a ghost dipped in crimson. Blood and darkness were his tools—daggers, tendrils, splashes of arterial red muffled under boots and bone.
He let a few run. Not because they posed a threat, but because they spread fear. The whispers of their comrades vanishing into the dark like prey in a jungle turned panic into chaos.
When the alarms finally screamed through the building, Adam discarded stealth entirely.
His aura exploded—blood technique: Flowing Red Scale, surging through him like molten metal under skin. He blinked forward in bursts of speed, each appearance marked by an eruption of gore as blades of blood curved through torsos and skulls.
Screams echoed across metal beams.
And then silence returned.
Only two remained—bound, gagged, and wide-eyed. Adam stood before them, eyes like coals under moonlight.
He walked up to the first one—the twitchy one—ripping the gag from his mouth. "You know where Saya Takagi is?"
The man spat blood and sneered. "Go to hell."
Adam smiled. "Already been there."
Then came the screaming.
Slow, methodical—bones bent the wrong way, fingers broken at angles that snapped audibly. The other prisoner watched in horror, face pale as death.
"Still stubborn," Adam mused, wiping blood from his knuckles. "Your turn."
The second man—shaking—spilled everything. "F-Fukuoka! Outskirts… an old freight storage complex… one of our leaders—he's guarding her!"
Adam stood and turned away as the man collapsed, sobbing.
He pulled out his earpiece and called a secure line.
"Inko."
Her voice came in quick. "Adam! Are you alright?"
"Clean. I'm done here. Saya's in Fukuoka. Outskirts, guarded by one of their Japanese branch heads. I'm going now."
In the background, he heard Bulma's calm voice. "Tell him cleanup is en route. Thirty-strong, full containment team. Get the hell out of there before the press does."
"Cleanup will be there in 20. Mitsuki is leading it," Inko added.
"Noted."
He waited.
Exactly twenty minutes later, a wave of black vehicles descended, marked discreetly with Dragon Industries' sigil. Out stepped elite operatives in dark combat gear—and at the front, Mitsuki Bakugo, a trench coat flaring behind her.
The metallic tang of blood still clung to Adam's boots as he watched the last sliver of red sunlight dip beneath the skyline of Osaka. In the shadow of the carnage he'd left behind, the air was thick with the scent of oil, steel, and fear. Thirty agents swarmed the crumbling warehouse complex now, sweeping every room, logging evidence, and tagging bodies for removal.
Adam stood beside a black Dragon Industries van, hands in his pockets, gaze cool and steady. Across from him, Mitsuki Bakugo crossed her arms, her presence as commanding as her reputation suggested. The crimson-lined tactical coat she wore whipped slightly in the breeze, reflecting her tempestuous personality.
"You really painted this place red," she muttered, glancing around at the mess.
Adam gave a faint smirk. "It's not my favorite color… but it gets things done."
She chuckled, pulling a communicator from her belt. "We'll wrap this up fast. Damage control is easier when the only witnesses are already unconscious or dead"
He was about to nod and leave when she stepped closer, her voice dropping. "You didn't hesitate. That's rare."
He turned his head slightly. "Some people don't deserve hesitation."
Her eyes flicked to his, reading something deeper. She reached into her jacket and handed him a card— her personal contact.
"For when you're not busy drowning the city in blood," she said with a cocky grin.
He accepted it with a nod before turning away. "Thanks for the clean-up."
And then, he vanished, body flickering into the wind like a torn banner, shadows swallowing his figure mid-stride.
{Fukuoka – Freight District Outskirts}
The teleportation skill, paired with Nano's optimized spatial calculation, landed him smoothly atop a rusted cargo container under moonlight. From his vantage, the freight yard stretched like a decayed skeleton, long-abandoned by industry and now reborn as a den of criminals.
It was quiet—too quiet.
Nano's voice buzzed through his thoughts.
[Confirmed location. Compound contains 14 hostiles. One high-priority target with elevated power signature—matching Japan branch leader profile. Mana barrier detected below—likely captive containment]
He scanned the area. The men below were organized, each carrying automatic weapons and mana-shielded armor. Not the usual thugs. These were trained. Prepared. Dangerous.
But not for him.
He closed his eyes for just a second and activated Shadowmeld, his body slipping into the void between light and dark. Where moments ago stood a man, now moved a wraith—silent, seamless, unseen.
Beneath layers of reinforced crates, welded steel doors, and mana-sealed corridors sat Saya Takagi, gagged and bound in a reinforced magical cell. Her violet eyes glared defiantly through bruises, but her spirit was unbroken.
She sat upright despite the pain, her hair tangled but eyes sharp. Memories of her parents, of Yuriko's strength, of her school training—it all anchored her.
She refused to cry, to break.
Above her, the slasher's Japan branch leader—a man known only as Tenma—paced restlessly in a high-ceilinged chamber. Clad in black, a jagged blade resting over his shoulder, his crimson tattoos glowed faintly under the mana lamps.
"She'll fetch a statement out of them soon enough," he muttered to one of his lieutenants. "And if not, well… Takagi blood still sells high."
Just as he turned to check the surveillance feed, the screen blinked to static.
"What the hell?"
And then, the first scream echoed through the compound.
Adam moved through the building like a living shadow, cutting down guards before they even realized he was there. One went down with a silent choke of blood, another had his throat opened in the blink of an eye. Blood oozed across walls in geometric streaks.
Nano spoke in his mind. [Mana seal weakening. Central stairway—two levels down. Barrier's origin traced]
He activated Blood Technique: Flowing Red Scale, coating his body in crimson plates that pulsed with life. His Blood Edge shifted into a twin set of curved blades—sleek and designed for dismemberment in close quarters.
He kicked through the final door with a thunderous crash.
Tenma turned just in time to see a red blur lunging toward him.
The fight began instantly.
Tenma summoned spectral chains from his tattoos, snapping them toward Adam like striking serpents. Adam twisted midair, slashing through two with one dagger, flipping forward to slice the third apart.
"You're not human," Tenma hissed.
"No," Adam said flatly.
Tenma's technique was powerful—dozens of chains reacting at once, shifting forms, embedding curses—but it was no match for Adam's blood mastery. With a swift gesture, Adam invoked Piercing Blood—a concentrated spear of red force—impaling Tenma mid-cast, blowing him through the far wall.
The man gasped as the blood penetrate him, while his own filled his lungs.
"You'll… never stop us all," he rasped.
"I don't need to," Adam said, standing over him. "Just you."
He ended it quickly.
Downstairs, the barrier dissolved due to Tenma's death, without no one to suppy mana to the array it disolve. Adam approached the cell and shattered the lock with a single punch. Saya flinched, but her expression turned to shock as she saw the stranger.
"You're…?"
"Adam," he said, offering a hand. "Your mother sent me."
Her legs trembled slightly as she stood, pride holding her upright. "Took you long enough."
He chuckled. "Let's go home."