"Hey, kid."
Red eyes fluttered open. Half-asleep, the boy groaned and rubbed his face, hoping the motion might wake him.
The first thing the red-eyed boy saw was a man in uniform. A police officer? He always associated the color blue with the police.
"Y-Yeah? What?" The boy groggily said.
His vision clearing, the boy could finally see who it was in-front of him. A station-hand to a metro, his hands crossed. Not an officer, just a tired man trying to get him to step out of the train.
"You're at the last stop." The metro hand said.
With a blink, the boy processed the words for a moment.
Last stop... wait—
His eyes snapped open, adrenaline catching up to his drowsiness.
"Shit."
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The boy scrambled to get up — his height barely reaching the man's shoulders — and looked around. His hands snapped to a bag, long and solid, before shouldering it.
"What time is it!?" The boy with red eyes asked in a panicked voice.
"Woah, kid — calm down." The metro hand said, taking a step back. "It's... uh..." He peered to the wall where a clock stood above the station. "6:45 PM—"
The man hadn't even finished his words. The boy with red eyes rushed outside the door — but not before handing the man his ticket as proof of payment.
"Hey! Do me a favor and clock me in! I'm not a criminal!" The boy's distant voice could be heard.
The metro hand watched the boy leap over the fence, rushing through metal detectors, and the somehow evading every security detail sent his way.
"What the hell..." The station hand could only utter.
—————
Kenji Hakurou, an immigrant from Kyoto who moved to the quiet city of Union Bridge. Living with his brother, Shō, in an apartment complex near the Industrial Center. An aspiring Baseball player, yet a high school dropout. Short in stature, and illiterate, this boy didn't have a lot in terms of a future.
And Kenji would agree with this assessment.
His looks were average at best, and his rugged childish face was rough from a turbulent upbringing. He didn't have many in terms of talents, but he made up for it in one aspect—
'I'm gonna be late, dammit!' The boy thought with grit teeth. Rushing through the alleyways, climbing up stairs, and leaping over fences.
With his lack of talents in any academic or non-academic field, Kenji had accepted work from an admittedly shady source.
The man named after an avian bird, the 'Coffee-Obsessed Bastard' as Kenji had affectionately nicknamed him was, by all definitions, his employer.
Of course, Shō could provide him with as much food and shelter as he needed — but Kenji felt ashamed having to rely on his brother like this.
'Where did that coffee-obsessed bastard want me this time? Is this the right address, just find the green telephone box.' Kenji thought with a hiss.
In his hurry, he nearly ran into a truck. The roaring horns of the vehicle echoed with a loud — BWAH!
With his heartbeat racing, Kenji managed to twist himself out of danger at the last second. His heart beat in his chest, and he clutched onto the fabric of his hoodie tightly.
'Holy shit... Fuck me...' He thought.
Stumbling onto the street, Kenji felt sweat pour from his brows. He took a few deep breaths, and turned back to the street with a gulp.
Looking around, he gathered quite the attention. Many bystanders nearby discussed, some even rudely pointed their phones at him. With a groan, he looked to the closest one and approached.
"Hey, buddy." Kenji spoke harshly. "Knock it off."
The man put away his phone, no apology came after. Kenji sighed, then turned to the street and continued to run. The sun was going down, and he needed to be there before sunset.
Eventually, he found it. Stumbling into an alley where a lone green telephone box stood. Kenji hurriedly pulled out his phone and looked at the clock. 6:58 PM. He wasn't late, he thanked whatever god existed out there.
Looking around, Kenji walked over and entered the telephone booth. He glanced at his phone again and again, keeping an eye.
The clock moved to 6:59, and finally, at 7:00 PM...
Ring! Ring!
The green telephone booth rang. Kenji reached out and picked up the old rustic receiver. He placed it onto his ear.
"When the black cat enters the box, is it dead or alive?" The phone asked.
Kenji wanted to smack the phone on the bastard's head.
"Knock it off with the cryptic shit, you dickhead. Just tell me what I have to do." The boy harshly said. There was laughter, then, a far too amused one coming from the phone.
"Tut—tut, little black cat~" The voice echoed with an accented drawl. "Answer the question, first."
"Corswain, for fuck's sa—"
"Up-up-up! What did I say about language, Ken. Come on, old boy, give it a thought and I'll tell you what you have to do." The voice behind the receiver cooed.
Kenji sighed and rubbed his temples, the weight of exhaustion settling in. "Preferably, the cat would be alive," he muttered.
The receiver crackled. "Bzzt!" The voice on the other end sing-songed. "Wrong! Ken, you've got to do better than that."
Kenji blinked, frowning. "What? So it's dead, then? What is this, some kind of metaphor for me dying today?"
A low hum came from the line — pleased, mocking. "No, no, of course not. It's neither dead nor alive — both living and dead, in fact. Goodness, boy, haven't you ever heard of Schrödinger's cat?"
Kenji scowled. He could almost see the smirk behind that voice.
"Oh, wait," Corswain added, tone bright with false realization. "You're a dropout. My mistake."
Kenji gritted his teeth. "What the hell are you trying to pull, Corswain?"
"Nothing. Just the musings of a mad man." Corswain quickly pushed the thought aside. With a final amused snort, he finally relented. "In any case, Ken, it's been fun. I'll give you a bonus for that little laugh, it could go to your college tuition — assuming, of course, that any poor excuse of a college would accept you."
Kenji resisted the urge to swear at the man. His knuckles turned white against the receiver.
'Do it for the money. Do it for Shō.' He reminded himself.
"Do you have that little 'instrument' with you?" Corswain asked.
Kenji nodded automatically.
"Kenji," Corswain drawled. "If you're nodding, please remember — I can't exactly see you."
Kenji closed his eyes and suppressed the groan. This one was on him.
"Yes, Corswain." Kenji's voice clipped through the transceiver. "I have it."
"Good, now pull it out." Corswain said.
Kenji stayed silent. Did he hear that right?
"I said pull it out." His voice cut through.
Kenji nodded, then moved — but stopped midway.
"Wait," he began. "You said you couldn't see me."
"Oh, I lied." Corswain began. "Not in person, but I can see you juuuust fine."
"Creepy old eldritch dickhead." Kenji said, getting to his knees and unzipping his bag. He reached into the duffel, the clatter of metal and wood echoed.
He took a deep breath, and pulled out a baseball bat wrapped in a chain. Dented, bent, but still functional. It had the words: "ol' reliable" plastered with faded marks.
He was about to give it a few practice swings when Corswain's voice cut through again.
"Do it outside the booth, Ken. You might break the glass... again."
"Right." Kenji said, stepping outside. He gave the baseball bat a few practice swings, skillfully tossing it to the floor and having it bounce back into his hand.
He re-entered the booth and placed the transceiver to his ears. "So what's the job?"
"I would suggest looking outside." Corswain said, "and see for yourself."
With another blink, Kenji peered outside. Only to find a large yellow eye staring back at him from the end of the alleyway. Reptilian in its nature, its pupils narrowed into slits.
The sudden appearance would've made any other person jump — but all Kenji did was stare back. He gulped, then with a deadpan, put the phone back to his ears.
"Did you plan for this, asshole?" Kenji asked.
"Hey, now. Let's not point fingers." Corswain replied, laughter dripping from the receiver. "At least this way, your target is right where you want it."
Kenji exhaled a deep breath. He didn't need to see his face to know that he was smirking behind all of that. The boy wished he could wipe the smirk he could tell was on his face.
"Can I substitute the bonus with a punch from me to you?" Kenji dryly asked.
"And ruin my beautiful face? You can keep the money, Kenji~" The man said. "Right now, you have an anomaly to remove."
At that last word, Kenji's left eye flickered orange.
The world twisted. Shapes that once made sense bent into something else — geometry collapsing under logic's weight. Through that glow, he saw the creature not as flesh, but as something forced into human comprehension.
The chains around his bat ignited with an otherworldly light — humming with power from a realm that should not touch this one.
A little gift from Corswain.
Then came the overlay — sharp and alien, symbols burned into his vision. Though Kenji couldn't read a word, the meaning carved itself directly into his mind.
—————————
[Anomaly Detected!]
[Threat Rating: 45%]
[Reptilian Anomaly — Origins: Unknown]
[Affiliation — Unknown]
—————————
Kenji gripped the bat tighter. Outside, the massive creature clung to the side of a building, its scales glinting under the dying sunlight. Every movement cracked brick and mortar.
It lowered its head toward him — that great yellow eye locking onto his orange one — and bellowed. The roar rattled windows, sent trash skittering across the street, and made the air itself quake.
Kenji set his stance, shoulders loose, breath steady.
"Alright, bastard," he said. "Let's dance."
————————
[Anomaly Subjugation: Begin!]
————————
Kenji dashed. A blur of black and white. Craters were left in his wake, the very material world unable to contain his immaterial power. Kenji leapt from one wall to the next, shifting like an arc of thunder echoing between surfaces. Each step left craters in his wakes, jagged cracks on walls.
The reptilian thing craned its head. As its would-be hunter entered the fray, the reptilian monstrosity opened its crooked mouth. Sparks formed from deep within its throat, illuminating jagged rows of sharpened teeth. The very alleyway seemed to spark with light, as the storm roared.
RATATATATA!
Like the rumbling of a machine gun, a flurry of bolts shot towards him. Snapping his eyes open, Kenji pushed himself off the wall. The space where he once stood was annihilated, a beam of bolt and thunder roared down the street. Burning a line that ultimately reduced the telephone booth to sparking ash.
It cratered, burnt, and left a hole that glitched like a broken monitor.
Kenji didn't stop, even as the sweat poured down. He swung his bat upwards, the chain unwrapping itself, lodging onto a wedge. He pushed off the wall, swinging towards the reptile.
Kenji swung, tearing the chain off with a jerk. Now airborne, he swung the bat towards the rattling thunder fire of the creature.
He felt the storm surrounding him. His hair raised, sparks of thunder rattled against heightened nerves. Yet Kenji grit his teeth, and swung his bat towards the arcs beam that dared to reduce him to a sparking mess.
————————
[Anomaly Rejected]
————————
The chains around his bat roared. Rejecting the anomalous nature of the thunder, the chains reflected the arcs back tenfold. Unable to process the attack, the reptile found itself literally eating its own torrent of thunder.
The reptilian creature felt a stream of red lightning crackle inside its stomach. Pseudo-organs fried and burst, mixing into a disgusting paste of black glitching blood.
The anomaly convulsed and wretched out its now ruined insides. A mere representation of its death throes, as Corswain would say. This was how mortal men saw the death of an anomaly.
It screeched, thunder tore through its throat and exited on its back. Black glitching ichor smeared itself against the wall. It fell, twitching its now dying muscles. The yellow eye that stared back seemed to dim, and soon it began to melt into the same black substance it bled.
Kenji skidded down the wall, turning to the creature. His orange eye scanned the dying.
————————
[Status: Returning to Shroud Space]
————————
Mission successful, then.
His lone orange eye pulsed. Pain searing his mind. His felt his left nearly burst, yet Kenji showed as much attention to it as one would a mosquito bite. Kenji found it funny, especially since the first time this happened, he felt as if someone had pushed a blade into his eye.
It shifted back to red, and he saw the world as it was once more. The anomaly was gone, the glitches in reality seemed to vanish — or, more accurately, he was made ignorant of it.
But the damage remained.
The scorched ground, the cracks on the wall, the destroyed telephone booth. Proof that all that he just went through was real.
His phone buzzed, and he moved to check. Turning on the Text-to-speech feature, Kenji listened in to the automated voice.
[Congratulations, I'll send the money to your account. Let me handle any unwanted eyes.
— Luther Corswain.]
Another sigh.
'Coffee-Obsessed Bastard.'
He turned, looking to the cameras lining the streets. They blinked as silent witnesses, yet Kenji continued on. The cameras won't be an issue, Corswain would see to them — like he always did.
Annoying man. Yet generous, he's never failed to keep Kenji hidden.
With nothing else to do, Kenji made his way back home.
—————
Bzzt!
His apartment door seemed to cheer for his return. Kenji swung the heavy metal door open, closing it behind himself.
"I'm home!" Kenji yelled.
But he was met with silence.
'Typical.' The boy clicked his tongue, turning back to the room.
The city skylines stretched against the glass walls below him — an endless scene of neon lights, smog, and stars. The scene was something he always woke up to, so Kenji rarely paid it any attention.
The place was enormous. A penthouse suite even the richest would have been hard-pressed to have. With ventilation, heating, cooling, every console under the sun, imported foods kitchen, an internet speed that made any internet speed outside of his apartment feel like torture.
Kenji even had his own room.
He was spoiled. Shō Hakurou was going to spoil him rotten.
Yet the one thing he wanted in this apartment wasn't here.
"Off to work again, huh?" Kenji muttered to himself. He couldn't help but exhale.
He walked over to a bean bag and sank into it. He thought out loud. "All things considered, today wasn't so bad. I didn't get injured this time, and the property damage was minimal."
He closed his eyes, he wanted to sleep.
Kenji could still recall that day. That one day when Corswain approached him. That one day when he was exposed to a world hidden from view. The annoying bastard wouldn't tell him everything, just enough to do his job.
"Just take your bat and swing, Ken. For the anomalies I'd have you deal with, that alone is enough."
'Does that mean everything I've been facing off against all this time were the lower-tiers?' Kenji thought to himself.
He wasn't sure if using game terms to describe his near-death experiences was comforting or pathetic. Probably both.
The only reason his "System" looked the way it did was because Corswain had tailored it to something familiar — bright, chaotic menus like the ones from the games Kenji used to play.
Not that he'd ever paid much attention to the details.
He usually just skipped through menus anyway.
As Kenji was about to drift to sleep, his phone began to buzz.
He groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I swear, Corswain. At least let me slee—"
The words died in his throat.
It wasn't a call. Not Corswain this time.
A small part of him hoped — really hoped — that maybe, just maybe, it was something normal for once. A piece of that normal life he wanted still trying to reach him. He swiped the screen open and turned on the text-to-speech feature.
The synthetic voice read the message in its usual flat tone:
————————
[To Recipient,
We're sorry to say that we have denied your application to Baudouin Co. at this time.]
————————
Kenji stared at the ceiling as the voice droned on, spilling line after line of corporate sympathy — all sterile words and polite dismissal.
————————
[We appreciate your interest in joining our team, and wish you success in your future endeavors. Your application has—]
————————
He let the phone rest against his chest. The message blurred into meaningless static, but the words carved themselves into his mind anyway.
"Yeah," he muttered to no one. "Future endeavors."
His chest felt heavy, a dull ache spreading behind his ribs. Somehow, that message hurt more than anything that thunder-spewing monster had thrown at him tonight.
The rejection wasn't new — he'd lost count of how many times this had happened — but each one chipped away a little more. Every polite "no" reminded him of what he'd traded away: the illusion of a normal life.
He sank deeper into the bean bag. The neon lights from the city bled through the window, painting the room in quiet colors. For all his strength, his supernatural sight, his ability to tear holes through impossible creatures…
He still couldn't get a normal job.
He laughed, low and humorless.
"What a joke."
He shut his eyes, and for the first time that night, he wished the world would just stop moving — even for a second.