Hollow Fang

The wind blew gently across the abandoned rooftop, carrying with it the scent of distant rain. The sky was a dull gray, clouds thick and heavy, yet calm. Kobe's skyline stretched endlessly before him an illusion of peace wrapped in steel and glass.

Kuragiri sat at the edge, his long black cloak swaying softly in the breeze. His expression was unreadable, gaze distant, hollow.

Peace is always fleeting… nothing more than a lull before chaos, he thought.

The silence was broken by footsteps—a casual, unhurried rhythm echoing from the neighboring rooftop.

A teenager strolled into view, hands tucked in his pockets. His expression carried a cocky smirk, and coiling along his neck and shoulder was a distinctive dragon tattoo, bold and unmistakable.

Kuragiri's eyes narrowed slightly.

He stood up wordlessly and stepped forward, his movements as silent as shadow.

Before the boy could react, a firm hand gripped his shoulder from behind.

"…Hey," Kuragiri said, his voice quiet and cold.

The teen turned his head slowly, revealing a smug grin.

"Well, well… an assassin fell for the bait, huh?" He chuckled darkly. "Perfect."

Kuragiri's gaze didn't change. "…What do you mean?"

The boy's aura subtly flared—faint sparks of electricity crackling around his body.

"Kaida," he said with a cruel grin, "was just a decoy."

Kuragiri's eyes remained fixed on him, unmoving.

"He was just bait to lure one of you assassins out," the teen continued. "The Dragon King's idea. Pretty clever, right?"

Kuragiri's brow twitched slightly, the first hint of emotion. "…So you're telling me… a father used his own son as disposable bait?"

"Of course!" The teen laughed. "What better way to get rid of a weakling? A decoy dies, a threat gets exposed… two birds, one stone."

The words hit harder than any weapon. Kuragiri's mind flashed with memories—images of Squad 5 abandoning him, his broken body under the Guardian's crushing blow. The betrayal. The pain.

A surge of rage swelled within him.

"…You bastard," he muttered, voice low and trembling with fury.

The teen's smirk faltered slightly, sensing the change in atmosphere.

"W-What the hell—?"

In an instant, Kuragiri vanished.

A burst of heat and flame trailed behind as he reappeared mid-strike, palm crashing into the teen's face. The force sent him flying, slamming into the rooftop wall with a sickening crack.

Before the dust settled, movement stirred from nearby rooftops. Three cloaked assassins leapt into view—each wielding unique powers. One summoned jagged earth spikes. Another conjured blades of slicing wind. The third's arms crackled with electricity.

Kuragiri leapt into action, evading a volley of stone spikes with acrobatic ease.

"Gravitational Pull," he murmured mid-air.

The wind-wielder was yanked toward him helplessly, intercepted by a brutal knee to the chest, bones snapping on impact. Without pause, Kuragiri spun, dagger flashing through the assassin's throat.

The electric user dashed in next, fists surging with lightning. He punched fast—but Kuragiri blocked with his forearm, teeth gritting as the searing heat burned his skin.

"Tch…"

Kuragiri retaliated with a flaming uppercut that exploded into the man's chest.

"Fire Manipulation: Ember Breaker."

The assassin screamed, his body engulfed in flames.

The final one hurled massive slabs of stone in desperation.

Kuragiri's eyes gleamed coldly. "Morphic Transformation: Jubatus Limb."

His arm elongated, jagged and beast-like. He tore through the barrage with inhuman speed, weaving between stone as if dancing with death.

He flash-stepped behind his target—then drove his transformed arm straight through the man's spine. Blood sprayed across the rooftop.

Silence followed.

Only the sound of panicked breathing remained.

The teen from earlier crawled across the concrete, face pale, body broken.

"P-Please… I was just following orders…!"

Kuragiri walked toward him slowly, blade scraping against the ground.

"…I've heard those words before," he said softly.

With one clean slash, it was over.

Blood arced through the air like a crimson ribbon.

Rain began to fall.

Steam rose from his blood-soaked cloak. The rooftop bathed in silence once more, bodies strewn around him.

The more he killed… the more his pain bled into the world. A shadow of vengeance beneath the falling rain.

—

The street below was draped in darkness, flickering lamplight casting strange patterns across the cracked pavement. In the distance, the golden glow of opal and jewel reflected faintly through the mist.

Kuragiri walked in silence, cloak dragging across the concrete behind him.

"Heh…" A twisted chuckle slipped from his lips, low and faint.

Before him stood a towering mansion — regal, yet sinister. Its structure gleamed with gold and opal stones, glowing faintly under the pale moonlight.

He passed through the gate without pause. The sound of his boots echoed through the hollow halls.

Inside the grand foyer, a figure sat at a crystal chessboard. As Kuragiri approached, the man stood — blade in hand, face hidden beneath shadows.

Kuragiri stopped before a towering door of diamond and opal. With a gentle push, the massive structure opened.

Light spilled in.

Standing in the center of the chamber, tall and imposing, was the Dragon King.

Long white hair cascaded down his shoulders like flowing silk. His chest was bare, covered in sprawling dragon tattoos woven with ancient runes. His lower body was adorned in Roman-style opal-plated armor.

The Dragon King turned, his gaze piercing.

"…What did you do to my men?" he asked, voice deep and cold.

Kuragiri's eyes held no emotion. "What a predator does to its prey."

He stepped forward again.

"Let's cut the crap. I didn't come here to talk."

The Dragon King chuckled.

"You've got guts, kid…"

In a flash, Kuragiri was in front of him — blade half-drawn, hand mid-strike.

"…And I'm about to carve yours out," he whispered.

The two clashed — twin daggers meeting Excalibur in a burst of sparks. The hall shook from the impact.

"Too predictable!" the Dragon King growled, swinging wide.

Kuragiri ducked — narrowly dodging. The blade cleaved through the floor behind him.

"Morphic Transformation… Jubatus Limbs!"

His arms mutated again, flames wrapping around jagged flesh. He surged forward with a flaming punch — only for the Dragon King to catch it barehanded.

"Too slow."

A brutal blow to the ribs sent Kuragiri flying, smashing through marble pillars.

Coughing blood, he struggled to rise.

"Sword Technique: Air Cutter!"

A crescent shockwave exploded toward him. Kuragiri barely escaped — the blast shattered the ceiling, raining debris everywhere.

Before he could catch his breath — the Dragon King was already behind him.

A hand closed around his throat. A knee slammed into his chest.

"GUHH—!"

"I saw you do this to one of my men," the Dragon King smirked. "Now, your turn."

"Sword Technique: All Ending Slash!"

A wave of death energy surged toward Kuragiri.

His eyes widened.

"No time—!"

"Innate Ability: Phantom Lightning!"

Thunder roared above. Bolts of divine lightning rained down, tearing through the mansion. Chaos erupted — stone and opal ripped apart.

"YOU BASTARD!!" the Dragon King roared, dashing through the wreckage, slashing in rapid succession. But Kuragiri moved like smoke, evading every attack with eerie elegance.

"Got you," Kuragiri murmured.

His right hand glowed — dark and otherworldly.

"Innate Ability… Void Sphere: Spatial Dissection!"

A jet-black orb erupted forward, warping space itself — cutting through dimensions like a black hole.

The Dragon King's body froze. His eyes widened in shock.

"…Tch… what a load of cra—"

SHHHHRRRRP.

His body split cleanly — severed across countless angles, collapsing into steaming fragments.

The great blade Excalibur fell to the floor with a lonely echo.

Kuragiri stood in silence, his face unreadable.

"…My work here is done," he muttered.

And with that, he turned and walked away.

Behind him, the mansion burned — flames and lightning lighting the ruins.

A lone shadow faded into the storm.