Game Without Limits

"What the hell?! Who does he think he is? No—no, this can't be real! This is insane!" Takehiro muttered feverishly, stumbling down the steps outside the mansion, barely able to catch his breath. Despite his age and heavy frame, fear lent him a burst of unnatural speed. Reaching his car, he yanked the door open, threw himself into the driver's seat, and fumbled to start the engine. With a roar, the car leapt to life as he slammed the accelerator, tearing through the silence of the night.
"Whoever he is, I'll be back! I'll come back and wipe that miserable family off the face of the earth! I'll kill every last one of them!" His voice cracked, a mix of fury and panic spilling out as he sped away, the tires screeching against the pavement.
But before he could go far, a figure appeared ahead, emerging from the darkness as though woven from the night itself. The man stood directly in the path of the oncoming car, his blindfold catching the gleam of the headlights. His posture was disturbingly relaxed, head slightly turned as if disinterested in the deadly hulk of metal barreling toward him.
"You son of a—are you messing with me?!" Takehiro's face twisted into a manic grin as his foot pressed harder on the accelerator. The engine screamed, the car lunging forward like a wild beast. "I don't believe in magic! You're just a pathetic trickster!" he bellowed, his hands tightening on the wheel as he braced for impact, determined to crush the defiant figure beneath steel and speed.
Kaito Shigeru didn't move an inch. He remained still, calm as a statue, an eerie beacon of defiance in the night. As the car closed the gap, its blinding headlights casting a long shadow behind him, the inevitable seemed seconds away.
Then it happened.
The car collided with something unseen—an invisible barrier that shattered its momentum with catastrophic force. The impact sent a deafening crash echoing through the air. Metal twisted and crumpled like paper; the windshield exploded into a spray of glass shards; the vehicle's frame buckled as though struck by the fist of a god. Sparks danced across the wreckage, the ruined engine sputtering out a final, pitiful hiss.
Takehiro lay slumped in the mangled remains of the driver's seat, bloodied and broken. His body trembled violently, each ragged breath a desperate grasp at survival. Panic glazed his eyes as he tried to comprehend what had just occurred.
Kaito approached the wreckage with the same unhurried ease as before, his boots crunching softly against the debris-strewn pavement. Circling the car, he reached the shattered driver's side and pulled the door open with unnerving calm. Without a word, he grabbed Takehiro by the collar and yanked him from the wreckage as though he were nothing more than a sack of rags.
"Any last words?" Kaito's voice was low and chilling, his head tilting slightly as if the question were merely a formality.
Takehiro gasped, his lips trembling as he clung to the last shreds of his defiance.

"D-don't... Please! Spare me! I'll give you anything you want, just don't kill m—"

The plea was cut short, silenced by a sudden, invisible force.
Takehiro's head separated cleanly from his body, spinning through the air in a grotesque arc. Blood sprayed out in a crimson fan, painting the ground in broad, violent strokes. His lifeless corpse crumpled to the pavement, limbs sprawled at unnatural angles.
Kaito stood over the body, unperturbed. With a slow, deliberate motion, he wiped his hands on the hem of his cloak, as though removing the faintest trace of filth.
"Pathetic mortals... Always hoping for a miracle at the very end," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
Turning away, he strode into the darkness, his silhouette fading into the night. All that remained was the wreckage, the blood, and the deafening silence of a world now void of Takehiro's existence.