Crash!
The Oriental-style sliding door was kicked open. A figure clad in black armor, covered from head to toe, appeared before the criminals.
"Tybil, you hid well."
The cold voice sent a wave of terror through Tybil. He had no idea when he had crossed this monster, and his subordinates were equally clueless. He was certain he only targeted women from the slums or the poor from outside the Capital—people at the very bottom of the Empire's social ladder.
"You're an assassin... from that... Night Raid! You're Night Raid, right? How much do you want? Money, women—I can give you plenty! Enough that you won't have to work for three lifetimes!"
Seeing the dozens of guards lying on the floor behind the armored figure—uncertain whether they were dead or alive—Tybil's fear was gradually replaced by a twisted excitement. If he could just escape, today's losses meant nothing. Furthermore, if this intruder could be swayed by money, he could be hired. Having such a powerful bodyguard would be a dream come true.
Perhaps because he had lived in a world of cold calculation for so long, Tybil couldn't conceive that someone would actually come to seek revenge for those he called "merchandise," "tools," or "the dregs of society." He was still immersed in his calculations when the voice from across the room cut him off.
"I only want your life."
Asahi raised his gun, but instead of aiming at the people, he targeted the lightbulbs on the ceiling.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A series of gunshots rang out, both from the henchmen and Asahi. He dodged the incoming bullets while systematically taking out the lights.
Crack!
As his magazine emptied, the large room was plunged into darkness. Only the faint, ethereal moonlight filtered in from outside—not enough to see one's own hand, but enough for a specter. His silhouette flickered in the dark, terrifying as a messenger from hell.
With his technological advantage, Asahi could see clearly regardless of the darkness. The criminals could not. He was like a shark in the water, "swimming" through them at will.
One after another, agonizing screams erupted alongside frantic, blind gunfire. Collapsed lungs, broken bones, cracked skulls—Asahi inflicted every kind of severe, permanent injury, showing no mercy whatsoever.
There was no need to pity these men. The blood of the innocent stained their hands; over the years, they had coldly "disposed of" hundreds, even thousands, of girls who could no longer work. Their crimes were so dense that dying ten times over would not be enough.
When the last bodyguard fell, the room went silent. Tybil collapsed to the floor, looking up at the tall figure approaching him, drenched in a cold sweat. His teeth chattered uncontrollably. How could a man accustomed to luxury and controlling the fates of others ever expect to face such a moment?
"Spare... spare me..."
Asahi's fist descended from above, striking the crown of Tybil's head. His skull crumpled like a bruised apple, and his body slumped to the floor.
The injury wouldn't kill Tybil instantly; it would take several minutes. During that time, he would experience ultimate agony until his life finally flickered out.
Asahi left the room and moved to another large hall. There, dozens of prostitutes lay scattered about, high on drugs, some twitching slightly. Every single one of them was in a state of blurred consciousness. In the center of the room sat a large incense burner, emitting a faint purple smoke. If inhaled too much, this substance acted as a powerful aphrodisiac for both customers and servers.
Asahi walked in quietly and extinguished the incense.
By killing Tybil, he had cut off the drug supply for these women, which meant they would eventually die from withdrawal. If he hadn't killed Tybil, they might have continued to "live"—or rather, continued to exist as shells for the sake of the drug until they rotted away somewhere. Was that existence worth it?
While he couldn't save these specific women, no more would be kidnapped and forced into addiction. Without killing Tybil, no one would ever be truly saved.
Asahi moved to a different area where several unconscious girls were being held. These were likely the recent kidnap victims who hadn't been forced to use the drugs yet. He untied them, woke them up, and vanished immediately. They only knew someone had saved them, but they couldn't distinguish any features other than a human shape.
"Thank you."
Asahi had already moved far away, but the faint sound reached his ears. A gentle smile touched his lips. For a man like him, those two words were worth everything. They allowed him to face the abyss while keeping his heart steady—they were the motivation to walk firmly through the darkness without losing his way.
Elsewhere, at the same time.
"So this is the Capital's Red Light District? It makes my heart race."
Tatsumi looked at the glittering, seductive atmosphere before him and couldn't help but comment.
"Oh, such a blunt reaction is quite cute," Leone teased. She grabbed her belt and began to transform. Her hair grew long and wild, animal ears like a lion's sprouted on her head, a tail emerged from her tailbone, and her hands shifted into the forepaws of a predator.
"Alright! Every time I transform, I feel so full of energy! Let's get to work. We'll sneak in and kill them!"
"Yes!"
Tatsumi was suddenly scooped up by Leone in a "princess carry." Before he could protest, she kicked off, leaping from one rooftop to another.
"Wait... hang on!!!"
They moved continuously until Leone evaded the eyes of the patrolling guards and stopped at an empty attic.
"Done!"
"You... you call that 'sneaking in'?! Are you kidding me?"
After composing themselves, they opened a floorboard in the attic to observe the room below.
It was identical to the room Asahi had entered earlier—vast, with a large incense burner in the center releasing purple smoke. However, the girls here weren't just inhaling the smoke; they were actively smoking the drug from wooden pipes.
Tatsumi grimaced, covering his nose. Just then, two men entered the room. One was a one-eyed man, followed by a subordinate.
"Very good, very good. If you darlings bring back a lot of money, I'll bring back more medicine, alright?"
"Yes!" the girls replied in unison. Whatever they had been before, all that remained in their minds now was submission and the drug.
The subordinate looked at a girl convulsing on the floor and spoke to the one-eyed leader.
"Hey Boss, look at this one."
"Tsk, she's no good. She smells like dead fish."
"Release her, and put a new one in her place."
The girl convulsed repeatedly, her pupils dilated, her face pale. She reached a hand toward the two men, whispering through parched lips.
"Please... give me more drugs..."
The subordinate didn't care. He raised his right foot and stomped hard on the girl, leaving her moaning in pain until she lay motionless.
"We need to expand into more of the slums."
"Yes, those useless wretches will do anything for drugs. We're going to make a fortune."