BOOM. A flare cracks the sky. The announcement echoes:
"All teams, prepare! Game starts in 10 minutes!"
Itsuki jogs over to the notice board, rips out the card, eyes scanning fast.
"We're **'It'. Prey: Team Kuragiri.""Oh, this just got fun."
Everyone exhales—relieved. No big names like Team Kenzoku or Team Blackhand. A soft start.
Ririka, calm and sharp, points at the map.
"Kuragiri spawns in Zone D2. Rough jungle, waterfall edge."
Itsuki nods. "Alright. Everyone spread out. Kazan, you guard Airiya. She is our ace. Rest of us—move."
(Reminder: Guide gives prey's location every 10 mins. BUT you gotta run back to spawn to get it. Pain. and Guard protects one individual)
Itsuki and Ryuu activate their bloodlines. In a flash—gone.
Daigo, Sena, and Kaito trail behind.
Kaito eyes Sena, smirking.
"So this is your top speed, missy?"
Sena glares. "Focus or fall."
Kaito waves her off. "Alright, princess. Try to keep up."
And then—he bolts.Rain's hammering down, jungle thick as sin, but Kaito glides through it like a beast unleashed. Massive trees loom, like something outta Atavar. But this man's not fazed.
In one slick motion—he scales the tallest one.
Eyes scan. Target locked.
He grins.
"Let the hunt begin…"
Thunder cracks.He imagines theme music in his brain.Slow-mo. Dramatic filter. Evil laughter.Totally unnecessary—but peak main character vibes.
And then—boom, he dives.
Target's clueless.
Kaito lands silently, crouched, tall, intimidating.
Game time.
Kaito eyes the lone kid, perched calmly near the edge of a branch.Too calm.Kaito smirks. "Easy win."
fwip—He lunges.But the kid vanishes.
Kaito mid-air:
"I REGRET EVERYTHING—"
Lands face-first. Muffled scream.
Voice from above:
"You rushed too early. Not smart."
Kaito lifts his head, leaves stuck to his face.
The kid reappears, floating like a ghost on a nearby branch—chill, almost smug.
"Name's Rokuya. You?"
Kaito grits teeth, wipes mud.
"Kaito... Bloodline—Veyne."
Rokuya raises a brow. "Ahh. Veyne, huh? That's pretty rare. I know a few others from that line."
Kaito's brain goes static—"There are others?"
But he plays it cool.
"Cool. I'll tag you now."
Rokuya chuckles.
"I'm from the Rikon bloodline. Born and raised inside akamichi. Locals call us the 'nobles'"
Kaito's brain:
"Of course I had to pick the hardest one..."
He forces a smile and preps to dash.
Rokuya just nods, eyes glowing faint blue.
"Try me."
Rokuya's voice echoes in Kaito's ears, eerily calm:
"My bloodline's ability. I control neural hormones—dopamine, serotonin, cortisol. Basically, I own your brain… as long as I see you."
The world spirals. Trees twist. Sky spins.Kaito stumbles like a drunk at a wedding.
"ahh not again"
Rokuya hangs upside down from a high branch, grinning.
"Feels trippy, right? Like you've had twelve shots and no regrets?"
Kaito, barely conscious, slurs:
"Mmmhm… you… smug tree monkey…"
Eyes half-lidded. Breathing heavy.But suddenly—BOOM.
Kaito's fist crashes into Rokuya's jaw.A clean, brutal, uppercut punch. CRACK.Rokuya's body ragdolls mid-air, flung through leaves.
"HUH—?" was all Rokuya could think before blacking out.
Silence.
Kaito, breathing hard, rubs his head.The spiral fades. Sanity returns.
He walks over to the knocked-out prodigy and smirks:
"In boxing, my brain's been through worse. You forgot something, genius…"
Leans in:
"Bloodlines might boost your strength. But not your jaw. Rookie move."
Dusts off his jacket, slings Rokuya over his shoulder.
"Welcome to the Strawcaps, dumbass."
Ten minutes before Kaito's punch echoed through the jungle, Ren stood under the massive stadium awning, the rain a distant hum beyond the glass. He held his phone in one hand, screen lit with the ongoing broadcast of the competition. Beside him, a small group of faculty and elite observers had gathered — seasoned judges of talent, old bloodline veterans, and specialists tasked with spotting future prodigies.
Ren leaned slightly toward one of them — a cocky young man with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue named tensui. "Who do you think has a chance this year?" Ren asked.
The man didn't hesitate. "Team Gensokyo and Team Rakuzan. Powerhouses. Coordination. Strategy. They'll eat the rest alive."
An older man, silent till now, nodded in agreement, stroking his beard. "They've been training together for years. Ruthless but methodical."
Ren's lips curved faintly. "And what about mine?"
A pause. Then a woman (miru), perhaps in her mid-30s with cold, observant eyes, replied carefully. "Your student… Kaito, was it? He's interesting. Different. Smart."
But Ren scoffed. "Smart's not the word I'd use."
Tensui chuckled. "I'll give him this— he was the only one who scaled the tallest tree in the zone to scout. Sharp instincts. But his choice of prey was… questionable."
Ren's brows arched. "Questionable?"
The screen flickered. A clear image showed Kaito locked onto a figure far below, a calm-looking boy sitting cross-legged like a monk beneath the thick canopy.
"He picked a bloodline user," miru muttered in disbelief.
Everyone leaned closer. Rokuyo's identity flashed on-screen. A Rikon bloodline wielder. Dangerous. Specialized in hormone-induced illusions and neural distortion.
Ren's expression shifted, watching closely.
The tension mounted.
Kaito launched forward — then the screen cut for a moment, switching angles — and a flash of movement erupted. In that next second, the cameras barely kept up.
Kaito's fist connected directly with Rokuyo's jaw — a clean, brutal punch. Rokuyo's body twisted mid-air, then slammed into the ground with an audible thud.
Silence followed.
Mouths dropped. Even the cocky man's composure cracked.
Ren stared, eyes wide.
"No bloodline. No hacks. Just pure speed… and that punch," someone whispered.
The old man (Senzhou) shook his head in disbelief. "He took out a Rikon user… with brute force?"
"He's untrained," miru said slowly, eyes still on the replay. "That shouldn't be possible. That kind of movement, that kind of strength—"
"He's your fourth," someone snapped at Ren. "Fourth student. First was a genius, second a tactician, third a prodigy. And now this?"
Ren didn't respond immediately. He kept staring at the screen, trying to make sense of what he'd just seen.
Finally, he muttered, "I didn't plan this one. He's not like the others. He's unpredictable…"
He paused.
"But maybe that's exactly why he's dangerous."
Kaito moved swiftly, vanishing from the spot where Rokuyo's body lay crumpled among the thick roots. His figure disappeared into the dense underbrush, leaving no trace, not even the sound of rustling leaves. Rain dripped from the massive canopy above, muffling footsteps, cloaking breath. He crouched low, nestled between the gnarled roots of a massive tree, motionless — a ghost within the forest.
Ten minutes. That was the rule. After a tag, the hunter had to avoid being tagged back for ten full minutes to make the elimination official.
Kaito didn't make a sound. Not a breath too loud, not a twitch of impatience. His presence melted into the environment with eerie discipline, especially for someone so brash.
Back at the observation deck, Ren stood with his arms crossed, gaze locked on the tracking data. The feed now showed a dim red blip for Rokuyo — tagged and inactive. But Kaito? His signal hadn't moved an inch since the punch.
Ren tilted his head. "Why did he stop?"
One of the analysts nearby, scrolling through the ruleset, offered a quick explanation. "Ten-minute rule. If he gets spotted or touched before that, the tag's invalid. He's just hiding."
The others nodded in agreement, satisfied by the logic. But Ren didn't speak. He studied Kaito's motionless signal again — like a beast lying in wait, completely still.
Quietly, he thought to himself: I didn't take him for someone who could be patient… or think tactically like this.
For a moment, Ren's expression changed. Just slightly.
Respect. And surprise.