Chapter 2 : The first soldier

The night was thick with silence, the kind that pressed down on the world like an unseen force. Only the distant hum of traffic and the occasional flicker of neon signs above broke the stillness. The city stretched endlessly, a maze of concrete and steel, its alleyways like veins pulsing with shadows.

Mi Kuya moved like a phantom. Her footsteps were whispers against the damp pavement, her presence nothing more than a ripple in the darkness. The rain from earlier had left the air heavy, the scent of wet asphalt mingling with the faint trace of cigarette smoke from a nearby street.

And there he was.

A man sat alone on a crate, casually lighting another cigarette. He looked ordinary, just another tired soul drowning in the weight of the city. But Mi Kuya knew better.

She had memorized his face.

He had been there that night. One of the soldiers who stood motionless, watching without remorse as Saito was murdered. He had done nothing to stop it. He had let it happen.

And now, he would die for it.

Mi Kuya’s grip tightened around the hilt of the katana. The blade felt heavier than she remembered, not in weight, but in meaning. This was the moment she had envisioned countless times—the first step in avenging Saito.

And yet, her hands trembled.

The man wasn’t wearing a uniform now. He wasn’t armed. He was just a man—unaware of the storm that had come for him.

For the first time, doubt crept in.

Would this truly be justice?

She hesitated.

Then, Saito’s face flashed in her mind.

His kind smile. The warmth in his eyes. The way he would ruffle her hair whenever she pouted. The memory filled her heart for a fleeting moment—until it twisted.

His smile vanished.

A gunshot echoed.

Saito’s body jerked. Blood poured from the wound. His eyes, wide with pain, sought her out in his final moments. The life drained from him, stolen in an instant.

Mi Kuya’s heart turned to ice.

They hadn’t hesitated when they took him from her.

Why should she?

Her fingers curled around the hilt. One smooth motion. The blade slid free.

A whisper of steel.

A gleam of silver beneath the streetlamp.

The man barely had time to react. His cigarette slipped from his fingers, landing on the pavement in a tiny ember of orange light. His mouth opened—perhaps to scream, perhaps to beg—but the blade was faster.

One swift strike.

A shallow gasp.

Then silence.

His body slumped forward, blood pooling beneath him. His eyes, once filled with the weariness of life, now stared blankly into nothing.

Mi Kuya stood over him, her katana dripping crimson.

She waited.

For guilt. For satisfaction. For something.

But all she felt was emptiness.

So this is what revenge feels like?

The girl who once dreamed of simple, happy days had just taken a life. And there was no going back.

This was only the beginning.

She would hunt them all down—every single one who had been there, everyone who had taken part in her brother’s death.

And if she had to become a monster to do it… then so be it.

But as she disappeared into the night, another question clung to the air, unspoken yet heavy.

Could she truly avenge her brother?

Or would those who cared for her pull her back from the abyss before it was too late?

The answers lay somewhere in the darkness of the path she had chosen.

And the darkness had only just begun.

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