The Vein Hunt Begins
The horns kept blowing.
Their sound bounced off the stone walls of Kagetsu Village, sending flocks of black-winged crows into the sky. From his spot near the graveyard, Akarui clenched his fists, staring into the cold night.
He knew what the horns meant.
Every child in Kyokai did.
They meant a Vein Hunt was starting.
The last time the Seven Warlords launched a Vein Hunt, three villages disappeared from the map. Not destroyed—erased, like they'd never existed.
"This is bad," Kaguro whispered in his mind.
"Yeah," Akarui muttered. His mouth was dry. "Thanks for the update."
He pulled his scarf up over his mouth, trying to hide the shaking in his hands. He wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the fear. Probably both.
The shadows around him shifted, dancing under the moonlight.
His Veins still hummed under his skin, but his body was heavy now, drained from using too much power too fast. His knees ached. His lungs burned.
But running wasn't an option.
Not tonight.
Not anymore.
He slipped through the back alleys of Kagetsu Village, staying in the shadows. His boots barely made a sound against the frost-covered ground. The rooftops above him were lined with Vein Crows, black birds bred by the Warlords to spy on streets from the sky.
Their glowing eyes followed him as he moved.
Akarui ignored them.
He had one goal now—get back to his hideout in the Lower Edge District. That was where his stash was hidden: food, Vein Bandages, and the only thing that mattered—his parents' old journal.
He needed answers, and fast.
By the time he reached the Lower Edge, the horns had stopped.
But something was worse now.
Silence.
The streets were empty. Doors were shut. Windows locked. The air smelled like wet metal—blood, maybe.
Akarui ducked into a side alley, climbing up a stack of crates toward the broken window of an old shop.
This was his hideout.
Or at least, it used to be.
As soon as he stepped inside, his stomach dropped.
The place had been ransacked.
His blanket was torn to pieces. His stash box was flipped over, Vein Bandages scattered across the floor. The journal—gone.
Akarui's fists tightened so hard his nails cut into his palms.
Someone had been here.
And whoever it was, they had taken the only clue he had about his parents.
"I warned you," Kaguro whispered. "The Warlords don't wait. They strike first."
Akarui's chest rose and fell, sharp and fast.
"Then I'll strike back," he muttered.
But as he said the words, something cold touched the back of his neck.
Steel.
A blade.
"Don't move."
The voice behind him was low, rough, and serious.
Akarui froze.
His mind raced through options.
Shadow Step? No—Veins too tired.
Vein Pulse? Could kill himself if he tried it again too soon.
Bluff? Maybe.
"Nice blade," Akarui said, his voice calm but his heart slamming against his ribs. "But pointing it at my neck? That's sloppy."
There was a pause.
Then the blade pressed harder.
"I could cut your spine right now."
"Yeah?" Akarui smirked, even though sweat rolled down his back. "Then who's gonna tell the Warlords they lost their little prize?"
The blade hesitated.
Bingo.
The figure behind him sighed, then slowly pulled the blade away.
"Turn around. Slowly."
Akarui did.
Standing there was a tall man in black armor, his face covered by a half-mask. A single scar ran from his temple down to his jaw. His eyes were sharp, cold, and blue—like ice that had never melted.
Around his neck hung the symbol of the Vein Hunters—a black chain wrapped around a silver dagger.
"I'm Jin Kazama," the man said, voice like gravel. "Vein Hunter. Rank Seven."
Akarui's stomach twisted.
Vein Hunters weren't mercenaries.
They were specialists.
Trained to track and kill anyone with cursed or forbidden Vein abilities. And the worst part?
They never failed.
"Relax, kid," Jin muttered. "I'm not here to kill you."
Akarui narrowed his eyes. "Could've fooled me."
Jin chuckled, but there was no humor in it.
"I'm here to offer you something."
Akarui crossed his arms. "Yeah? What's that? Another death sentence?"
Jin's eyes flashed.
"No. A way out."
The words hit Akarui like a punch to the gut.
He wanted to laugh, but he didn't.
There were no ways out of a Vein Hunt.
There was only death.
But Jin didn't blink.
"You think the Warlords are your enemy, kid? You're wrong. The real enemy is coming from the Vein Rift."
Akarui's stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"
Jin looked toward the window, eyes distant.
"There's something crawling out of the Rift. Something worse than the Murei. Worse than the Warlords. And you—"
He pointed a finger at Akarui's chest, right at the Black Crest.
"—are the key to stopping it."
Akarui's throat went dry.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Jin stepped closer, his voice low.
"You will. And soon."
From his pocket, Jin pulled out a folded piece of parchment.
Akarui recognized the handwriting immediately.
His mother's.
Jin handed it to him without a word.
Akarui unfolded the note, his fingers trembling.
The message was short.
"If you're reading this, Akarui, you must survive the first hunt. Don't trust anyone. Not even Jin Kazama."
Akarui's heart stopped for a second.
He looked up at Jin.
Jin stared back, calm as ice.
"Trust no one, huh?"
Akarui's mind raced.
Why would Jin give him the note if he was lying?
Why would his mother mention Jin by name?
Was Jin helping him… or setting him up?
Before Akarui could ask more questions, a loud crack shook the building.
The walls split.
The ground trembled beneath their feet.
A cold wind blasted through the broken window.
Jin's face hardened. "They're here."
Akarui's eyes widened.
Outside, on the rooftops, black figures appeared—dozens of them. Shadows wearing silver masks.
The Vein Hunters' Elite Corps.
Each one trained to kill Vein users like Akarui in one strike.
Kaguro's voice whispered again in his mind.
"This is your first real test, Akarui. Will you
fight? Run? Or fall into the Warlords' trap?"
Akarui's fists tightened around the note.
His mother's words echoed in his head:
"Don't trust anyone."
Even as Jin Kazama stood beside him, sword in hand, Akarui felt the weight of the moment crash over him.
Because no matter what choice he made next,
someone was going to die tonight.