No Second Chances

The blueprint of Ishigane’s Private Vault lay sprawled across the table, its edges curling under the weight of the gang’s hands. Faint ink smudges marked escape routes, blind spots, and weak entry points, each detail sharp, unforgiving.

Hibiki leaned back, tapping his long pipe against the wooden table, knocking loose a trail of ash. His voice was calm. Too calm.

"This is simple." His gaze flicked toward Nikey. "You break in, get the stash, and walk out. If you’re lucky."

Jin snickered, flipping a gold coin between his fingers. "The keyword being ‘lucky.’"

Ryo, half-distracted, adjusted the blue-glowing device in his hands, an intricate mass of wires and circuits. "You’ll need more than luck, honestly. Try not to suck."

Nikey said nothing.

He studied the blueprint. Every mark, every detail. Memorizing. Processing. Preparing.

Then, he spoke. "How secure is it?"

Silence.

Then—Jin grinned. "Enough that we wouldn’t do it ourselves."

Ryo exhaled, shoving his glasses up his nose. "Alright, newbie. Pay attention, because I’m not repeating this."

His fingers tapped the vault’s entrance on the map.

"The security system is top-tier. Ishigane doesn’t fuck around. You have exactly four minutes before the second patrol sweeps the hall. You mess up? You're locked in.**

Nikey’s eyes narrowed. "How do I get in?"

Jin laughed, resting his boots on the table. "You’re gonna love this part."

Ryo didn’t look up. "You don’t. We do."

He gestured at himself and Jin. "We’ll handle disabling the external locks. That gets you past the first layer of security. Once you’re inside, it’s all you."

His fingers traced the main entry point on the map.

"Once we unlock the external security, you’ll have exactly four minutes before the next patrol sweeps through the hall. That means you need to be inside the vault before that happens. If not, you’re trapped."

Nikey nodded. "And the cameras?"

Ryo adjusted his glasses, tapping the small transmitter next to him. "They’ll be down for three minutes. Not a second longer."

Jin grinned, leaning back in his chair. "That’s where it gets fun. You either move fast, or you get real comfortable in Ishigane’s basement prison."

Jin stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, rookie, here’s how you don’t screw up."

He held up three fingers.

"One: Don’t rush. Speed without control gets you caught."
"Two: Don’t hesitate. If you freeze, you’re dead."
"Three: Don’t expect a rescue."

He lowered his hand, smirking. "You fuck up, we leave. That’s the rule."

Nikey didn’t flinch.

Ryo, still focused on the blueprint, added, "You make it out, you prove you belong here. You don’t? Well… there’s always more street rats waiting to take your place."

Nikey’s fingers tightened into a fist.

No backup. No second chances.

He was alone in this.

The heavy wooden door swung open, and a thick cloud of cigar smoke rolled in before the man himself.

Daichi.

The gang’s smuggler. Supplier. The man who could get anything for the right price.

He grinned, stepping forward with a large duffel bag in his hands. The dim lantern light flickered against his gold rings and the scar running across his brow.

"You’re lucky I like you, kid," he said, dropping the bag onto the table with a loud thud. "Because pulling high-grade tools this fast? Not cheap."

Nikey unzipped the bag.

Inside—lockpicks, gloves, a lightweight crowbar, a glass cutter, a compact smoke bomb, and a few other surprises.

Everything he’d need.

He picked up the gloves first—thin but reinforced, built for precision.

Daichi smirked, taking a long drag from his cigar. "We don’t have time to teach stuffs to a newbie. Figure it out yourself."

Jin whistled, peering into the bag. "Damn, Daichi. You don’t play around."

Daichi shrugged. "It’s not about playing. It’s about surviving. You want to win big?" His sharp gaze flicked to Nikey. "Then don’t get caught."

The streets were quiet.

Too quiet.

Nikey stood outside the vault’s service entrance, his hood pulled low, hands in his pockets. Jin and Ryo flanked him—calm, unbothered, experienced.

The earpiece crackled.

Hibiki’s voice, smooth as ever.

"Doors will be unlocked in twenty seconds. Get in, get what we need, and don’t waste time."

Jin leaned in, voice low. "Remember, kid—this is your job. We’re just watching."

Nikey exhaled slowly.

Here I am. Doing this. No matter what.

The lock clicked.

The door creaked open.

Nikey stepped inside.

The moment he entered, he felt it.

A shift in the air.

The vault wasn’t just cold—it was unnatural.

Something was off.

Then—a sound.

Faint. Distant.

A slow, rhythmic tapping.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Nikey froze.

Not from fear.

From instinct.

Something was inside.

Watching.

Waiting.

The earpiece crackled—but this time, it wasn’t Hibiki.

A distorted voice whispered.

"You shouldn’t be here."