The silence in Jin Kurosawa's apartment was heavier than the storm raging outside.
On the mahogany table in the center of the room, weapons were laid out like surgical instruments prepped for an operation.
Two Obsidian Pistols. Custom builds. Grips sculpted to the anatomy of his hand, barrels extended for perfect counterweight balance. And beside them, sleeping in its black lacquered scabbard, lay that ancient beast: The Obsidian Katana.
Jin ran a white microfiber cloth along the pitch-black steel of the blade. The metal didn't shine. Obsidian steel didn't reflect light; it swallowed it. He didn't run his thumb along the edge to test the sharpness. Instead, he dropped a silk handkerchief from above the table. Gravity pulled the fabric down onto the blade's edge, and it parted cleanly in two, not a single thread snagging, before drifting to the table.
Flawless.
Jin sheathed the sword in one fluid motion. SHIIIT. The sound sliced the air in the room.
He secured the sword across his back, the pistols into his shoulder holsters. The black tactical armor he wore fit his body like a second skin.
He turned to Klara.
The girl was huddled in the corner of the sofa, her eyes welling up as she looked at him.
"Why?" Klara whispered. "Why are you taking me there?"
Jin didn't answer. He walked toward her. He extended a hand. It wasn't a hand offering help. It was a hand moving an object from one location to another.
"Walk," Jin said. His voice was as cold as cracking glaciers. "To draw out the hunter, one needs blood."
LOCATION: CONSTRUCTION SITE - 20TH FLOOR
The wind howled through the steel skeleton of the building, playing the girders like the keys of a massive, dissonant organ. This was an unfinished skyscraper. No glass. No walls. Just wet concrete floors, rusted iron beams, and a lethal sixty-meter drop into the void below.
Jin shoved Klara into the crane operator's cabin suspended in the center of the site. The cabin hung from steel cables over the abyss.
"Stay here," Jin said. "Do not move."
Klara pressed herself against the cold glass of the cabin. The lights of Tokyo below were blurred smears under the rain. Her breathing accelerated. Her lungs began to spasm, her heart hammering against her ribcage.
Hhh... Hhh...
That sound... It was the sound of pure fear.
Jin locked the cabin door from the outside. He didn't look at Klara. He turned his back and merged with the darkness.
He wasn't there to protect Klara. He was there to set up the Kill Box.
Jin climbed onto the main girder ten meters above the cabin. He crouched like a gargoyle. Rain streamed down his mask, but he didn't blink.
He was watching below.
And they came.
Three silhouettes.
The one in front (Radar) had his eyes bound with black tape. But there was no hesitation in his walk. He constantly turned his head left and right, listening to the wind. Like a shark picking up the scent of blood in the water, he had caught that trembling frequency from Klara's lungs in the air.
The giant behind him (Tank) shook the floor with every step. Concrete crumbled under his boots.
The one in the rear (V) walked with his hands in his pockets, calm as a tourist.
Jin drew his pistols. He thumbed back the hammers.
CLICK-CLICK.
The wind swallowed the mechanical sound. Jin locked his sights on the chest of the blind man in the lead.
"Welcome," Jin thought.
And he cracked open the door to hell.
The moment Tank took his first step toward the cabin where Klara was, Jin crushed the trigger.
BOOOM.
The detonation of the high-caliber Obsidian Pistol inside that semi-enclosed concrete structure was no different from a hand grenade going off. The sound waves slammed against the walls and amplified exponentially.
The bullet struck Radar in the right shoulder.
But the real damage wasn't the lead. The real damage was the deafening BLAST.
Radar's sensitive ears, tuned to listen to the city, went bankrupt from the decibel shock. The man screamed as if hit by an invisible sledgehammer and collapsed to the floor. Blood leaking from his ears mixed with the rain.
The sensor was blinded.
Jin shifted the barrel with millimeter precision.
Target: Tank. Distance: 15 meters. Shot: Double Tap.
BAM-BAM.
First round to the center of Tank's forehead. Second round to the heart.
Jin waited for the target to drop, to be thrown backward. Physics demanded it.
But Tank didn't move.
THUD. THUD.
The sounds were wet but didn't penetrate. The bullets froze on Tank's forehead and chest as if stuck in wet sand. No blood. Just grey dust and rage.
Tank lifted his head. The bullet casing in his forehead was pushed out by the contraction of his muscles and fell to the floor. Clink.
The giant roared. It wasn't a human sound. It was the noise of a hydraulic press. Tank grabbed the concrete column next to him and, with the agility of a gorilla, began to climb toward the girder where Jin was perched.
Jin's eyes narrowed.
"Not armor-piercing. Muscle density... Tight as steel."
The pistols were useless.
Jin didn't waste time holstering them. He dropped them into the void. His hands went to the hilt on his back.
Tank reached the girder. He swung a massive fist to tear Jin's head off.
Jin threw himself backward, defying gravity, the wind of the fist licking his mask. As he spun in the air, his right hand drew the steel from his back.
SHIIIIIING.
The Obsidian Katana cleared its scabbard, slicing through the darkness.
Landing on the beam, Jin used his momentum to swing the blade into Tank's exposed armpit, right into the joint.
CRUNCH.
The sword cut flesh. It went deep. But then... It stopped.
Jin tried to pull the blade back, but the steel was trapped between Tank's superhuman muscle fibers. It was like driving a sword into a car tire.
Tank grinned. He lunged to grab the arm holding the sword.
Jin didn't let go. He planted his feet against Tank's chest and pushed with everything he had, ripping the blade free from that mass of meat. Black blood sprayed, but Tank felt no pain. He only got angrier.
"Enough," said a calm voice from below.
Leader V.
V raised his suppressed weapon. He didn't aim. He just fired.
Phut-Phut-Phut.
Bullets hammered the concrete around Jin. Like an acrobat, Jin dove between the girders. From above, like a hawk, he dropped onto V.
The sword described an arc in the air. Target: V's neck. Decapitation strike.
Jin put his entire body weight behind the blow.
CLANGGGGG!
The sound wasn't steel hitting flesh. It was the sound of a sword hitting tank armor.
Sparks lit up the darkness.
Jin's hands vibrated. The sword hadn't cut the skin on V's neck; it had left only a white scratch.
V lowered his gun. He raised his left hand with incredible speed and caught the blade of Jin's sword with his bare hand.
Jin couldn't believe his eyes. The man's palm wasn't being cut. He was squeezing.
"Sharp," V said, devoid of emotion. "But not sharp enough."
Jin analyzed the severity of the situation in that split second.
Pistols: Ineffective.
Sword: Jamming or ricocheting.
Enemy: Feels no pain.
Jin delivered a hard kick to V's groin to free the sword. V stumbled but didn't let go. Jin released the hilt and backflipped away. He drew the Obsidian Knife from his belt.
But he didn't attack V.
He turned and ran toward the main steel cable holding the crane cabin where Klara was trapped.
Tank was coming up behind him. V was leveling his gun.
Jin struck the knife against the tension point of the cable.
SNAP.
The cable severed.
The cabin containing Klara was released, sliding rapidly down toward the ground floor amidst the screaming of hydraulic brakes.
Jin slammed the smoke grenade from his pocket onto the floor.
HISSSS.
Thick, grey smoke filled the 20th floor.
V fired, but the bullets buried themselves in the smoke. Tank roared and charged into the cloud, swinging his arms, beating only the air.
Jin was gone.
Clinging to the backup cables hanging in the construction shaft, he was gliding down through the darkness.
On the 20th floor remained a blind man with bleeding ears, a giant with black blood leaking from his arm, and a leader with a white scratch on his neck.
And below... Below was a hunter in retreat.
As Jin reached the ground floor and pulled Klara's trembling body from the cabin, he had only one thought:
"I thought I was the hunter. But I was just a wolf with dull teeth."
The rain intensified. The lights of Tokyo draped over this failure like a cold shroud.