Bloodsteel Gangster
Episode 8 – City of Graves
The city was at war.
Not against rival gangs.
Not against foreign powers.
But against one man.
Kuro.
Every block he walked through became a graveyard. Every squad sent after him never came back. Every tank, every helicopter, every mercenary team was just another stack of corpses feeding his climb.
And now, the city had reached its breaking point.
⸻
Lockdown
The government declared martial law.
Checkpoints sealed off districts with barricades and sandbags. Armored tanks rolled through the avenues. Helicopters swarmed the skyline like vultures. Drones patrolled alleys, their sensors tuned to one face: Kuro's.
Every screen, every billboard broadcasted his name. "Public Enemy Zero. Kill on sight."
The syndicates, humiliated and desperate, threw their armies into the streets. The cops joined them, backed with government funding. And merc squads—killers from other worlds, armored in alien tech—flooded into the city to claim the bounty.
It wasn't police work anymore. It wasn't even gang business.
It was extermination.
The First Blockade
Kuro walked calmly down the avenue, his trench coat swaying, cigarette glowing faintly. The air reeked of smoke and fear.
Ahead, a blockade stretched across the entire street—concrete barriers, burning cars, armored trucks. Dozens of cops crouched behind shields, rifles raised. Syndicate thugs manned the rooftops, rocket launchers on their shoulders.
A tank sat at the center, its cannon humming, aimed squarely at him.
A voice boomed from a loudspeaker:
"Kuro Veynar! This is the end of the road! Lay down your weapons or be destroyed!"
Kuro exhaled smoke and kept walking. His glowing red eyes burned in the floodlights. His pistol slid from his arm, his blade hissed free.
"No."
The street exploded.
⸻
The Firestorm
Gunfire and rockets tore through the avenue. The tank roared, its shell detonating in a ball of fire. Helicopters buzzed overhead, spraying the ground with chaingun fire.
And through it all, Kuro advanced.
Bullets shredded his body into ribbons, rockets blasted chunks from his chest, tank shells caved in his torso—only for his body to seal instantly, veins of liquid steel knitting bone and flesh.
He raised his pistol, bang, bang, bang, every shot perfect. A rocket team on the rooftop fell, their bodies tumbling down. A sniper's skull split open.
He slashed through the riot line, his blade tearing shields and torsos in the same motion. Blood sprayed across the barriers, soaking the concrete.
The tank fired again. Kuro walked through the smoke, raised his pistol, and fired into the cannon. The shell exploded inside, ripping the tank apart from the inside out. Flames consumed the crew.
The street echoed with screams, gunfire, and then silence.
LEVEL UP. Current Level: 800.
Balance: $799,000.
Kuro rolled his neck, muscles bulging beneath his coat. His frame was enormous now, his body pulsing with steel veins glowing faintly red. Still calm. Still hungry.
Mercenary Kill Squad
Minutes later, the sound of engines roared through the ruins. From the north end of the avenue came blacked-out trucks, their sides marked with syndicate insignias. From them stepped mercenaries in exo-suits, each towering over normal men, their armor glowing with alien circuitry.
At their head marched a mercenary commander, helmet bristling with antennae, carrying a plasma blade taller than a man. His voice boomed through his helmet.
"You've killed gangs, cops, soldiers. But we're not them. We're paid to end monsters."
Kuro flicked his cigarette into the fire, his eyes burning like coals. "Try."
The mercs opened fire. Their weapons spat plasma bolts hot enough to melt concrete. Explosions scorched the ground around Kuro, waves of heat rising into the night.
He walked through it. Calm. Silent. His wounds closed as fast as they opened.
Then he struck.
His pistol spat steel death, ripping through the exo-suits one after another. Sparks and blood sprayed into the night as heads exploded inside helmets. His blade carved through armor like paper, cutting limbs and torsos apart.
The commander swung his plasma blade, cleaving Kuro in two at the waist—only for Kuro's body to knit back together instantly. He shoved his blade through the commander's chest, raised his pistol, and emptied rounds into the man's helmet until the light in it went out.
The squad was wiped in minutes.
LEVEL UP. Current Level: 950.
Balance: $949,000.
The Helicopter Siege
The night sky lit up as a fleet of helicopters descended, dozens of them circling overhead. Spotlights blinded the streets, chainguns spinning. Missiles streaked down, detonating across the ruins.
The avenue became hellfire. Buildings collapsed, firestorms spread, the air itself turned to ash.
Kuro stood in the middle, his trench coat flaring like wings. His pistol barked, bang, bang, bang. Every shot a perfect hit. One by one, helicopters spiraled out of control, crashing into buildings, exploding into balls of fire.
He leapt onto a rooftop, his blade slicing a chopper in half as it passed. He landed in the flames, smoke rising around him, glowing eyes cutting through the haze.
By the time the last helicopter fell, the entire block was fire and ruin.
LEVEL UP. Current Level: 1,200.
Balance: $1,199,000.
⸻
The City of Graves
By dawn, the city was silent. Entire districts reduced to rubble. Blocks lined with smoking cars, burning buildings, and piles of corpses.
The gangs had lost hundreds. The cops had lost entire divisions. The mercenaries had been erased. Tanks were twisted wrecks, helicopters were ashes on the ground.
And in the center of it all walked Kuro, calm and steady, his glowing red eyes burning against the morning sun.
His body was monstrous now—towering, veins of steel burning beneath his skin, every movement radiating power. His trench coat clung to him like a shadow, alive and heavy with blood.
He stopped at the ruins of the plaza fountain, sat down on the broken stone, and lit another cigarette from the embers of a corpse.
"Level twelve hundred," he muttered. His voice was calm, cold. "Still nothing."
He exhaled smoke into the sky.
Because this was only the beginning. The city had turned itself into a graveyard trying to stop him. And he was ready to keep climbing forever.