Chapter 1:
Shadow in the Dark
November 2025
Place : Tokyo
"Hm… so this is the place."
A lone figure stood at the edge of a towering building, shrouded in darkness. His crimson eyes glistened faintly as he looked down at the alley below. There, a grotesque beast feasted on a lifeless human body—its eyeless face stretching open, sharp teeth gnashing, black drool dripping onto the concrete.
The figure's black jacket fluttered in the cold night wind. Beneath it, a white shirt clung to his body, the faint moonlight highlighting his disheveled black hair. His gaze hardened.
He stepped off the ledge.
As he plunged downward, his hands remained calmly in his pockets until the very last moment. In a smooth motion, he twisted midair, summoning twin daggers that erupted with blue and violet flame. With one clean swing, he bisected the creature.
Black mist exploded outward, dissolving into faintly glowing particles. As the remnants faded, something clinked against the pavement—a small, jet-black crystal.
The boy crouched to pick it up.
"Hm… a C-Class, huh?" he muttered, sighing. "What a waste of time. Won't even buy me dinner."
Pocketing the crystal, he turned from the carnage and strolled through the dim alleyway.
But shadows moved.
Three figures emerged—one wielding a baseball bat, another twirling a knife, and the last a massive, bald man cracking his knuckles with a vicious grin.
"Well, well… looks like we've got a rat sniffing around our turf," said the man with the bat, resting it on his shoulder.
"Kid," the one with the knife added, licking its edge, "you must be lost. Be a good boy and leave that shiny thing behind, and maybe we'll let you walk away."
The boy sighed, his tone dry but amused.
"Sorry, that's not an option. I'm broke, and this crystal's all I've got. Without it, I'll be starving tonight."
He gave a small, exaggerated bow.
"So, I'll kindly ask you to let me pass. Please?"
The thug laughed. "You must be deaf, kid. This is our area. Whatever you find here belongs to us." He slammed the bat against the ground.
The boy blinked thoughtfully. "Huh? That's strange… Akari told me that if I asked nicely, people would understand and let me be."
"Stop mumbling, brat!" barked the man with the knife.
Before another word could fall, the boy raised his hand, forming a finger gun.
"So…" he whispered, aiming straight at the bat-wielder's head.
"Bang."
A deafening crack echoed through the alley. The man's head exploded, his body collapsing limp onto the wet ground. Blood sprayed, spattering across the boy's face.
He smiled. "Oops. Maybe I overdid it a bit."
The other two froze in sheer terror. The big man's legs shook uncontrollably, his voice trembling.
"W-what… what are you?"
"Ah, right. My bad," the boy said calmly, clapping his hands. "Introductions are important."
Before the man with the knife could move, his head burst apart just like the first. The heavy thud of his corpse made the large man fall to his knees, paralyzed with horror.
The boy tilted his head, his expression bright yet eerily serene.
"Let's see… what do people call me these days?" He tapped his chin, pretending to think.
Then he grinned. "Ah, yes. They call me… a Shinigami."
The name struck the big man like a curse. His breath quickened as dark liquid began oozing from his nose… then his eyes.
"Wh-what… are you doing to me?! Stop it! Please!"
The boy's smile vanished.
"You know," he said coldly, standing tall, "dead men shouldn't talk."
A sickening burst echoed. The man's body exploded into a bloody mist, painting the alley crimson.
The boy licked a droplet of blood off his finger and chuckled softly.
"Now then… time for my art."
He dipped his fingers into the fresh pool of blood and began tracing something on the wall—careful, deliberate strokes forming a twisted sigil. When he was done, he stepped back, admiring his work.
"Perfect," he murmured.
Turning to leave, he sighed.
"Guess I'll need a shower after this… otherwise Akari's really gonna scold me."
With that, he vanished into the shadows, leaving behind his mark on the wall.
A black silhouette with wings and a scythe stared back from the bloodstained bricks—
the mark of the Shinigami.
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