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Chapter 17: The Darkness Grows II
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He couldn't help but beam, letting out a chuckle before vanishing into the distance.
As Akashi moved deeper into the districts, the state of the roads, buildings, and people began to shift noticeably.
In the central districts closest to Seireitei, the streets were crowded but relatively clean, and the people moved with a sense of purpose.
Merchants called out their wares from stalls, children darted between alleyways, and residents haggled over prices with sharp voices and sharper tongues.
But as Akashi continued his journey, using Shunpo to travel farther and farther from Seireitei, the atmosphere darkened.
The roads became uneven, littered with refuse, and the houses grew smaller and more dilapidated.
The people, once lively, now looked tired, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow.
He paused on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, crouching to observe a group of children fighting over scraps of bread.
A hollow pang echoed in his chest, though one can only wonder if it was pity or simply the acknowledgment of opportunity.
The deeper districts were desolate. By the time Akashi reached the farthest outskirts, the structures were little more than shacks cobbled together from scraps of wood and metal.
The people here didn't even have the energy to quarrel; they simply sat or lay on the ground, their faces etched with resignation.
Akashi straightened, his eyes scanning the bleak horizon.
"Perfect, too perfect," He mused, 'They're desperate for anything that would distract them from this misery.'
The lack of entertainment in Rukongai was painfully obvious. The residents of these districts had little to live for, let alone anything to amuse or inspire them.
This was the market he intended to conquer.
Akashi reached into his robes and withdrew a small pouch of coins, weighing it in his hand.
Money wasn't something he had ever cared for, but he knew it was a tool; a means to an end.
He calculated how much he would need to set up initial production and distribution for his stories.
The people here couldn't afford much, but he didn't need to charge them heavily.
Even a single coin per story could snowball into massive returns if he reached enough readers.
No, maybe better, they can simply pay by providing other services, running small-time gigs for him.
The stories he had been writing were not just entertainment; they were seeds of darkness, crafted carefully to evoke unease, curiosity, and fear.
Every dark thought or emotion his readers experienced would feed Kurayami, bolstering its power. And as his stories grew in popularity, so too would his reach.
But first, he needed a publisher. And for that, he would turn to his family.
Akashi's destination lay in the farthest district, hidden in the shadows where even the broken dared not venture.
Here was the headquarters of the Creed, his personal organization; a network he had carefully cultivated over the years.
To outsiders, it was a secretive guild dealing in information, resources, and influence. To Akashi, it was his "family."
The building was unassuming, a nondescript warehouse.
The family could certainly find themself a mansion, but such a luxurious display would've certainly attracted too much attention, thus the discreet warehouse, one of many.
Akashi landed silently on the roof before descending into the alley below.
The familiar structure rose before him, dark and foreboding, its windows blackened, its doors guarded by two enforcers.
They stiffened at the sight of him, their hands twitching nervously as they bowed.
"Akashi-sama," One of them said, his voice trembling slightly.
Akashi nodded, his expression unreadable. "Open the door."
They obeyed immediately, and the heavy door creaked open. As Akashi stepped inside, the shadows of the Creed swallowed him whole.
The dimly lit interior was filled with Creed members; spies, couriers, and enforcers; all of whom froze at the sight of him.
At the far end of the room stood Kenji, the Creed's de facto leader in Akashi's absence.
He was tall and lean, his face marked by scars that told of a harsh life. Yet there was something unnerving about his expression; or rather, the lack of it.
Kenji's eyes were blank, his movements mechanical as he approached Akashi and bowed.
"Akashi-sama," Kenji said, his voice monotone, "Welcome back." It would almost seem as if he doesn't respect or admire Akashi... It's more complicated than that.
Akashi nodded and surveyed the surroundings, the people within for he noticed something, something he hadn't felt before.
Two sharp, unkind gazes fell upon him from across the room, their presence like needles pricking at the edges of his awareness.
This was new.
The awakening of his Shikai, Kurayami, had changed many things for Akashi, not the least of which was his sensitivity to darkness.
He had become acutely aware of negative emotions, able to sense malice, envy, and hatred with unnerving precision.
Those emotions stood out to him now, like black ink against a pale canvas.
Akashi's steps were calm and deliberate as he made his way deeper into the Creed.
The usual buzz of activity seemed to fade around him, the members falling silent as he passed.
He made no outward show of hostility, yet his presence alone was enough to cast a pall over the room.
Akashi's expression remained calm as he walked toward the sources of the malice, his movements fluid and unhurried.
The two individuals in question were standing near a corner, trying to blend in with the rest of the members.
One was a tall man with a sharp, angular face and cold eyes, while the other was a woman with an air of quiet confidence and a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Akashi stopped a few paces away from them, his hands resting lightly at his sides.
He tilted his head, studying them with an almost curious expression.
"You don't belong here," He said softly.
The man stiffened, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his blade, but before he could draw it... He simply fell to his knees, feeling enormous pressure grasping his head.
The pressure was so secured and heavy that the bones of his knees cracked, forcing a strangled cry out of him.
If the woman wanted to do something, she couldn't, frozen in her place, her eyes glancing sideways at the thing holding her comrade's head, the latter's head cracking and bleeding as the pressure intensified.
She was sweating profusely in horror as she felt the entity's hollow eyes fall on her, the intensity of its gaze bringing her to her knee.
The room was silent, the other members frozen in fear, watching as Akashi stood over the fallen pair.
Akashi crouched before the man who could barely utter a hoarse cry as he felt the skin of his head being literally ripped apart.
"It's... Pointless," Akashi kindly reminded, "Tell me who sent you... It's pointless to lie to me. Spare yourself the pain."
"Hah Ahhh, Go... Go to hell!" The man managed to utter before spitting at Akashi... The spit was stopped by an Inky hand.
Speaking of which, the man; up to now; has yet to realize what's been holding him down... The First Eldritch in its original form is nothing but an Inky humanoid figure.
The First has no facial features, no mouth nor ears, only two hollow spots on his face which could be regarded as eyes.
"That's rude," Akashi narrowed his eyes, his black iris seemingly expanding, almost appearing as if his sclera turned black.
Akashi's hand gently fell on the hilt of his blade. He pulled it out from its sheath, yet strangely, he pulled out nothing but the hilt.
However, from the hilt, Ink dripped, almost instantly expanding and forming a sharp, long, dark blade.
"I've still yet to fully understand my ability," Akashi stated calmly, "You. Your family. Everyone you care about. You'll help me understand it."
The man tried to speak, but all that came out was a hollow sound as the blade came in contact with him, seemingly leaving him stunned.
Akashi tilted his head as though examining an insect.
"Pathetic," He murmured as pulled back the blade, allowing the man to breathe, his expression blank, and slowly, life returned to him.
"I've devoured all of your darkness, yet I feel it, negativity slowly generating with you... Is it memories? Negative emotions born out of your memories and current circumstances?" He wondered.
"I do not get rid of memories, so I can technically make you into a rechargeable battery... Lovely," Akashi smiled.
Rising to his feet, Akashi lifted his blade and brought it down in one clean motion.
The man should've hoped his head was severed right there and then, but no it was not. It merely frightened him to near death much to Akashi's amusement.
Akashi turned to the woman, his expression unchanged, "You'll deliver a message for me."
He said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Tell whoever sent you that the Creed is not to be trifled with."
He leaned down, his inky black eyes locking onto hers, "If I see you again, I won't be so kind."
The woman nodded, trembling in fear, but at least hope rekindled in her heart. She'd live in contrast to her bleeding comrade.
"Just kidding, you won't be leaving here alive," Akashi continued, watching with amusement as despair surged on her face, and feeling the darkness within her rumble, "Ah, hahaha hahaha, I missed this."
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