The chapter opens with Shun catching a glimpse of the photo on Kyle's phone.
His expression shifts instantly — from curiosity to shock.
In the cold silence of the forest clearing, the faint crackle of the burning house echoed in the background.
Shun's eyes were still fixed on the photo, his grip tightening around the edges.
Kyle stepped closer, the firelight casting sharp shadows across his face.
A slow, almost teasing smile curved on his lips as he tilted his head slightly.
"You can handle a little bloodshed… right?"
The words cut through the air—not loud, but heavy—carrying both a challenge and a warning.
For a moment, only the sound of the flames and Shun's slow inhale filled the space.
Shun's lips curled into a grin, the kind that carried both confidence and a hint of danger.
His eyes met Kyle's, a glint of excitement flickering in them as the orange firelight danced across his face.
"Of course, brother…" he said, his tone low but steady, "and I enjoy doing it too."
The flames behind them roared louder, as if feeding on the tension between the two.
Seeing the fire rage in the distance, its crimson glow dancing across the smoke-filled night, Kyle's expression hardened.
The crackling of burning wood mixed with the faint hum of police radios, and the scent of ash clung to the air.
He stepped forward, boots crunching over scattered debris, until he stood before a uniformed officer. The man straightened instantly under Kyle's gaze, sensing the quiet authority in his presence.
"Once you've cleared this entire area," Kyle said, his tone low but firm, "report anything you find—no matter how small—directly to me."
The officer nodded sharply, the firelight flickering against his visor, and without a word, turned back toward the chaos. Behind them, the flames roared louder, as if the night itself was holding its breath.
The officer gave a crisp nod, the fire's glow reflecting in his eyes.
"Yes, sir," he replied firmly.
Kyle held his gaze for a moment, ensuring the order sank in, then turned away. The officer immediately moved toward his team, barking commands as the silhouettes of firefighters and police officers blurred against the raging flames in the background.
The night seemed heavier now, as if whatever truth lay hidden in that burning house was already watching them from the shadows.
From there, Kyle and Shun walked away, leaving the chaos behind.
The crackle of the burning house faded with each step, replaced by the low hum of the city in the distance. Neither spoke for a moment—both knew this was no ordinary case. The photo of Rin still lingered in their minds, its threat sharp and personal.
Their footsteps echoed faintly on the deserted path, the flicker of the fire still visible behind them, like an omen that refused to die out.
Two hours later, they arrived back at the academy.
The tall gates loomed ahead under the pale evening sky, their metallic bars reflecting the fading light. The air here was quieter—almost too quiet compared to the chaos they'd just left in Tokyo. As they walked through the main courtyard, the murmurs of students in the distance barely registered; both Kyle and Shun were deep in thought, the image of Rin bound to a chair still burned into their minds.
It wasn't just another mission anymore—this had become personal.
Kyle broke into a sprint, his footsteps pounding against the stone pathway.
Ignoring the startled glances from passing students, he pushed through the academy's inner gates and made a beeline for the restricted security wing. The heavy steel door slid open with a sharp hiss as he flashed his ID, revealing a dimly lit corridor lined with surveillance monitors and armored lockers.
His breathing was heavy, but his mind was sharper than ever—every second wasted could mean danger for Rin. Without hesitation, he stormed inside, his eyes locked on the central control desk where the head of security was stationed.
Kyle stormed into the room like a sudden gust, his presence hitting harder than the chill in the air.
Before Victor Storm could even rise from his chair, Kyle's hand shot forward, clamping around his collar and yanking him halfway across the desk. The metal edge rattled under the force.
Victor's eyes widened, caught between shock and defiance, but Kyle's glare was unyielding—cold, razor-sharp, and carrying the weight of someone who had no patience left to give.
The monitors behind them flickered, casting harsh light over the scene, as if the entire security wing had gone silent just to watch what would happen next.
Kyle's grip tightened, the fabric of Victor's collar bunching in his fist.
His voice came out low, almost calm—but laced with a venom that cut deeper than a shout.
"Looks like… you've forgotten," he said, eyes locked onto Victor's, "what happened… a few years ago."
The words hung in the air like a blade, sharp and heavy with unspoken memories—memories both men knew could never be erased.
Victor's smirk faltered, just for a moment, as the weight of the past pressed down on him.
Kyle released his grip just enough for Victor to breathe, his other hand slipping casually into his jacket pocket.
A faint metallic click broke the silence as he pulled out a cigarette, holding it between his lips.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he struck his lighter—its tiny flame reflecting in his cold, unblinking eyes.
The tip of the cigarette glowed ember-red as he took the first drag, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke that curled lazily in the tense air between them.
It wasn't just a cigarette.
It was a statement—one that said I'm not done here… not even close.
Kyle removed the cigarette from his lips, the glowing tip burning like a tiny brand in the dim light.
Without a word, he brought it close—so close—that the heat brushed against Victor's skin.
A faint hiss rose as the ember neared his neck, the scent of smoke mixing with the sharp tang of fear.
Victor's jaw tensed, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple.
Kyle's gaze never wavered, his voice a low, razor-edged whisper.
"Memories… can burn deeper than skin, Victor."
Kyle's grip on Victor's collar tightened, pulling him in until their faces were inches apart.
His voice was ice—cold enough to freeze the air between them.
"What were you doing… huh?
When they took Rin away—where the hell were you?"
The cigarette's ember flared as Kyle's fingers twitched, its heat a silent threat against Victor's neck.
Victor's eyes darted, searching for an escape, but Kyle's stare pinned him in place like a predator locking onto prey.
From behind, Shun's calm but firm voice cut through the tension.
"Let him go, Kyle…" he said, stepping closer, his eyes fixed on Victor.
"He doesn't know anything."
The weight in Shun's tone wasn't pleading—it was certain, almost commanding.
Kyle's jaw tightened, the cigarette still burning between his fingers, smoke curling in the cold air as he considered whether to obey… or ignore.
Kyle instantly stepped back from Victor, the shift in his demeanor almost unnerving.
In one swift motion, he grabbed Shun's collar, yanking him close.
"Look…" Kyle's voice cracked into a jagged tone, his words tumbling out in a strange, broken rhythm.
"Mu… M–mujhe kuch… nothing—NOTHING else matters… I just…" his eyes widened, a manic glint flashing through them, "I just want to know… WHERE IS RIN?!"
The way he spoke wasn't the calm, strategic Kyle Shun knew—it was fragmented, unstable, the kind of voice that belonged to someone standing on the thin edge between reason and madness.
Kyle's grip on Shun's collar suddenly loosened.
That wild, unblinking gaze in his eyes flickered—like a flame starved of air.
His breath hitched once… twice… and then, without warning, his knees buckled.
"Kyle!" Shun's voice rang out, but it was already too late—Kyle collapsed to the cold floor, the cigarette rolling from his fingers, its faint ember dying as it hit the ground.
For a moment, the room was frozen in stunned silence. The tension, the rage—it all vanished in an instant, replaced by the eerie stillness of his unmoving body.
Shun's eyes widened, his confident smirk shattering into raw panic.
"Kyle!" he shouted again, his voice cracking this time. He quickly dropped to his knees beside him, shaking his shoulder, searching for any sign of consciousness.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears. The Kyle he knew—the one who never backed down, never let anyone see him weak—was lying helpless on the ground.
Shun's hands trembled as he tried to lift him, his mind racing. What the hell happened to you, brother…?
Even the faint crackle of the burning debris outside seemed to fade, leaving only Shun's uneven breaths and the sound of Kyle's still body against the floor.
A faint beeping sound filled the room.
Kyle's eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurry at first, shapes and shadows slowly sharpening into the sterile white of the academy's medical bay. The faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mixing with the distant hum of machines.
For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, piecing together fragmented flashes—Victor's throat in his grip, Shun's voice yelling, the heat of anger burning through him… then darkness.
He turned his head slightly and saw the white curtain drawn halfway around his bed. His jacket was folded neatly on the chair beside him, and a faint ache throbbed at the back of his skull.
Kyle exhaled slowly. Medical area… so Shun must've brought me here.
Kyle's gaze shifted—and froze.
Sitting just a few feet away was a girl.
Her posture was calm, but her eyes… they were fixed on him with an intensity that made his pulse quicken. Soft strands of hair framed her face, catching the light from the small lamp beside her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The quiet between them felt heavier than the sterile air around.
Kyle blinked, unsure if it was the aftereffects of passing out or if she had truly been there the whole time, silently watching him.
Kyle's voice was still a little hoarse as he pushed himself up on the bed, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Hey, girl… who are you?" he asked, his tone calm but edged with curiosity—and a hint of suspicion.
The girl didn't flinch. She simply tilted her head, studying him like he was the one under interrogation. The hum of the medical monitors filled the pause between them, making the silence even sharper.
The girl's lips curved into a faint smile, but her gaze remained steady.
"I'm Lara," she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet confidence. "Rin's friend."
Kyle's expression shifted—surprise flickered for just a moment before that sharp, calculating look returned to his eyes. The name Rin hit him like a spark in a dry forest.
Lara rose from her chair with an easy grace, her eyes never leaving Kyle.
A faint smirk played on her lips as she stepped closer.
"You know," she said, tilting her head slightly, "I think I like you."
Kyle blinked, caught off guard for a split second, before his usual guarded demeanor slid back into place.
Her tone wasn't flirtatious—it carried a strange mix of curiosity and challenge, as if she were testing him.
Kyle narrowed his eyes, his voice low but edged with suspicion.
"What exactly are you trying to say?" he asked, his gaze locking onto hers.
Lara's smirk widened ever so slightly.
"Just that… you're different from what I expected," she replied, circling slowly around the side of his bed.
"Rin talks about you sometimes. I wanted to see for myself… if the man she trusts so much is really worth it."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.
Lara slowly sat on the edge of Kyle's bed, leaning in just enough for him to catch the faint scent of her perfume.
Her eyes studied his face closely, almost like she was searching for something hidden beneath his calm yet tense expression.
"You've got that look in your eyes," she said softly, her tone almost teasing but layered with curiosity.
"The kind that says you'd burn the whole world down for someone… especially for her."
Kyle didn't move, his fingers tightening slightly on the bedsheet.
"And if I would?" he replied, his voice low and unreadable.
Lara tilted her head, a faint smile curling on her lips.
"Then maybe… you and I aren't so different after all."
Kyle's eyes narrowed slightly, his breath catching for a moment.
"Myself?" he asked, his tone more suspicious than surprised.
Lara's smile didn't falter—if anything, it grew softer, almost dangerous.
"Yes… for you," she said, her voice low, deliberate.
"Not because I owe you… but because there's something about you, Kyle. Something… I want to protect."
Kyle leaned back against the pillow, unsure whether to take her words as comfort or a warning.
"Protect me from what?" he asked.
Lara's gaze flickered—just for a second—toward the door, as if she expected someone to be listening.
"From what's coming," she whispered.
"And trust me… it's closer than you think."
Lara suddenly stepped closer, her hand resting firmly on Kyle's shoulder.
Before he could react, she leaned in, her lips pressing against his.
Kyle froze—his mind a sudden whirlwind.
Her kiss wasn't gentle; it was intense, almost desperate, as if she was trying to claim him, not just touch him.
He pulled back slightly, eyes locked on hers.
"What the hell was that for?" he asked, his voice low but edged.
Lara's breathing was unsteady, her gaze burning into him.
"Because…" she said, her tone trembling between passion and urgency,
"you need to remember there are still people who want you alive."
Lara stood up slowly, brushing her hair back with a sly smile.
"This," she said, her tone carrying a strange mix of mischief and challenge,
"was sort of… on her behalf. Now, when you meet her, make sure you give her this gift in return."
Kyle's brows furrowed, still trying to process her words.
"What gift… exactly?" he asked cautiously.
Lara just smirked, leaning in close enough for her whisper to linger in his ear.
"You'll figure it out… when the time comes."
With that, she turned and walked toward the door, leaving Kyle staring after her, a tangle of confusion and suspicion tightening in his chest.
Just then, Shun's voice came from the doorway, his tone low and unreadable.
"Hmmm… Kyle, how much do you have?"
Kyle turned his head, frowning.
"How much… what?" he asked, still thrown off by Lara's bizarre exit.
Shun stepped inside, his eyes scanning Kyle like he was searching for something more than an answer.
"You know what I'm talking about," Shun said, his voice heavier now.
"Money. Connections. Strength. Anything… because we're going to need all of it if we want Rin back."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing down between them.
Kyle pushed himself off the bed, ignoring the lingering dizziness.
"Enough talk," he said firmly, grabbing his jacket from the chair.
"Now let's go… and find Rin."
Shun gave a short nod, his expression sharpening.
Lara, still standing near the door, watched them with a faint smile, as if she knew something they didn't.
The air in the medical room felt heavier now—less like a place for recovery and more like the calm before a storm.
Kyle's fists clenched. This time… I won't be late.
As Kyle moved toward the door, Lara suddenly shifted her attention to Shun.
She tilted her head, giving him a sly smile.
"So… you're Shun, right?" she said, stepping a little closer.
Her tone dripped with playful teasing. "You look even better up close."
Shun frowned, clearly caught off guard.
"…What are you trying to do?" he asked, his voice flat but cautious.
Lara smirked. "Just making conversation… unless you want it to be more than that."
Kyle glanced back over his shoulder, irritation flashing in his eyes.
"Lara—this isn't the time," he said sharply.
But she just shrugged, her eyes still locked on Shun like she was testing his reaction.
Shun says, "Better luck next time, girl."
Lara paused for a second, as if Shun's reply had stung her a little.
Then, with a faint chuckle, she said, "Hmm… interesting. I never let people like you win."
Shun, keeping his usual calm expression, walked toward the door.
"Better luck next time, girl," he repeated, this time with a slight smirk.
Kyle let out a small, sarcastic laugh. "Come on, stop wasting time. Let's go find Rin."
Lara simply watched the two of them leave, her eyes holding a strange mix of curiosity and cunning.
Without another word, the two started toward the exit, their footsteps echoing softly in the sterile medical room.
Lara watched them leave, her eyes glimmering with an odd mix of curiosity and cunning,
as if she already knew something they didn't.
Outside, the corridor stretched ahead, dimly lit and quiet.
Kyle and Shun moved side by side, their pace quickening with every step—
both aware that every second brought them closer to Rin…
or to whatever danger awaited her.
As they strode down the corridor, Kyle's hand slipped into his jacket pocket.
The cold glass of his phone met his fingertips, and he pulled it out in one smooth motion.
The screen lit up, casting a faint glow across his face in the dim hallway.
A flood of notifications blinked at him—missed calls, unread messages—but one stood out.
A location pin… sent just five minutes ago.
His eyes narrowed.
"She was here," he muttered under his breath, thumb hovering over the map.
The red dot pulsed on the screen, like a heartbeat in the dark.
Shun caught the edge in Kyle's voice.
"Rin?"
Kyle's jaw tightened.
"Yeah. And we're not far."
Their footsteps quickened, each one sounding sharper, heavier—
as if the walls themselves were bracing for what was coming next.
Shun slowly tightens his wrist, feeling the tension coil through his arm like a drawn bowstring. His fingers curl slightly, knuckles whitening, and his eyes sharpen, scanning the surroundings with a predator's focus. Every subtle movement of his body screams readiness, a silent warning that he's bracing himself for whatever danger—or challenge—might emerge next. The room seems to grow heavier around him, charged with the anticipation radiating from his controlled, taut posture.
Kyle's hand moved with precision, sliding into the holster at his side. In one fluid motion, he drew his gun, the metal cool and heavy against his palm. His eyes darted down the dim corridor, every shadow suddenly alive with possibility.
Shun's voice cut through the tense silence, casual but edged with concern.
"Come on, man… put the gun down."
Kyle turned his gaze toward Shun, eyes sharp, voice low and deliberate.
"But why?" he asked, each word weighted with caution.
Shun's eyes met Kyle's, steady and unwavering, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His voice cut through the tension, calm but firm, carrying both confidence and a teasing edge:
"Your lightning strike punches… they're more than enough."
He let the words hang in the air, letting Kyle feel the weight of trust—and the unspoken challenge—in them, as if saying, you don't need the gun, I've seen what you can do.