Vongola I stepped into the shop, scanning the room before locking eyes with Byakuran. Their gazes collided midair—sharp, unflinching.
"It looks like you know me," Vongola I said, uncertain. He was sure he had never met the man in front of him, yet the stranger had spoken his name so familiarly, as though recalling an old rival.
The feeling was disquieting. There was something unmistakably dangerous—and oddly familiar—about this man.
What caught his eye even more was the ring on Byakuran's finger. It bore a design uncannily similar to the Vongola rings, but the crest wasn't the Vongola emblem. It was something entirely foreign. A strange symbol Vongola I had never encountered.
He silently wondered—had a new family risen from the underworld without his knowledge? Or perhaps… did this man come from another universe altogether?
Byakuran smiled. It was soft, almost warm—like spring sunlight. But beneath the charm lay something cold, something calculated. Something lethal.
"So you really don't know me?" he said with mock disappointment. "That's kind of sad."
His voice was gentle, but it carried a deadly edge. Like a silk-wrapped dagger.
His eyes narrowed, sharp as an eagle's, piercing. As the killing intent rolled off him in waves, the dessert shop seemed to still. The temperature dropped. Even the icing on the cakes frosted over.
Byakuran reflected inwardly, replaying the memory of a battle against Vongola I. Even though it had only been a projection, a shadow, he had been bested. Easily.
And now—now this man dared to pretend not to remember?
That indifference stoked something violent inside him.
He would make him remember. Make him pay.
As the intensity of Byakuran's presence grew, the few customers inside began to stir restlessly. Unease swept the room like a chill wind.
One person abruptly stood and rushed out the door. Then another. And another. Within moments, the shop was empty—save for overturned chairs and the fading scent of sugar and cream.
Still, Vongola I remained calm.
He walked to the opposite side of the table and sat down slowly, unshaken.
"No matter who you are," he said evenly, "I hope you remember where you are. This is Hell's Kitchen. I don't like fighting here."
His voice was steady but firm—an authority forged through years of war and burden. Eyes of tempered fire, the kind only a man who had lost and protected everything could possess.
Vongola I had already guessed that Byakuran was likely the mysterious force Alex Ray had warned him about. The one who sought to turn Hell's Kitchen into a bloodbath.
Even so, even in the face of a threat, Vongola I upheld his code. As long as the enemy made no move, he would not strike first. Not in a place full of innocents.
The silence thickened, tension winding between them like barbed wire.
Then Byakuran sneered.
"Hmph. The Vongola are still so sentimental. Why bother protecting ants?"
Before Vongola I could reply, Byakuran pressed on, not waiting for permission.
"You know," he said with a smirk, "ever since I awakened the power of this ring, the world has felt like one big game board. The humans? NPCs. The families like yours? Game bosses. I always save the bosses for last. It keeps things interesting."
His eyes gleamed, murder and madness dancing within them.
"I've cleared this game so many times," he continued, "I'm always looking for new ways to play. New paths. More chaos."
He paused, his tone sharpening.
"Then came you. Or a version of you. In one of the timelines, you defeated me. And after that, I found myself in a different space—mysterious, endless. But it didn't matter. Just another sandbox to conquer. I cleared hundreds of universes there. And now... here we are again."
Byakuran leaned forward, almost excited.
"I'm Byakuran Gesso of the Milufiore family. If we lose this game, we die. But if we win—Hell's Kitchen and the Vongola fall with you. Sounds fun, right? I made this game just for you, Vongola I."
Giotto studied the young man—Byakuran. There was no fear in his gaze. Only quiet curiosity.
He stood slowly, calm as ever.
"I don't know you," he said, "and I don't know what happened to twist you into this... thing. But if you want to fight, the Vongola will never back down. We protect what matters. Always."
His voice carried iron resolve.
"I promised Alex Ray I would defend this place. No matter the cost. That includes from you."
As he finished, golden Dying Will flames erupted around him. They didn't flicker—they roared. They lit the room like sunlight on steel, radiating heat and purpose.
This was the legacy of the Vongola. His oath, forged in flame.
But Byakuran just smiled and looked away, toward the shop window.
"You're already too late, Vongola I. They've begun."
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
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