Tokyo, Japan
Shigeyoshi residence, Kichijoji neighborhood, located in the west of Tokyo.
June 18, 2026
6:45 AM
Izanami watched him disappear down the hall, his broad back tensed with unspoken turmoil. She exhaled deeply, rubbing her temples. Her mind raced, as she was trying to make sense of everything.
Then, a thought struck her like a bolt of lightning.
If Ray was revealed to be Risa Rourke's son....and if Risa was the sister of Charlotte Victoria III....then that meant....
The Queen of England was Ray's aunt.
Izanami froze, her breath catching in her throat. The realization sent a shiver down her spine. How had she not pieced it yesterday when Risa talks about Ray???
Her hands froze, her pulse pounding in her ears.
The pieces were finally aligning, forming a picture so vast and intricate that it left her breathless. It all made sense now...
Why Ray Shigeyoshi had been selected, why he had been allowed into an organization that, for centuries, had strictly trained and accepted women only.
The Queen herself had trained him. Personally molded him. Guided his hand and sharpened his instincts, shaping him into the first - ever Queensman.
But why?
Izanami ran a hand through her smooth, long, white as snow, and elf-like hair, her mind racing. If Ray had been just another prodigy, another weapon in the grand scheme of monarchy, then it would have been so unusual - but not unheard of. But this was different. The Queen did not take personal apprentices. She did not break centuries of tradition without reason.
Unless...
A chilling thought gripped her.
Queen Charlotte did all those things because, for simplicity, he was her nephew. And the Queen knew it all along and kept it a secret in the organization. But why?
Why did she had to make it a secret? Why did she had to keep Ray in the dark from her loyal warriors and servants?
Izanami exhaled slowly, dozens of unanswered questions in her mind. From this moment on, every decision, every move, every order regarding Ray Shigeyoshi took on a new light. Was this about power? Bloodline? Legacy? Or something else entirely?
But then, another unanswered question sent a tremor through her chest.
Did Ray know?
Did he have any idea who he truly was?
Her gaze drifted toward the hallway where Ray had disappeared. The man who carried an unshakeable coldness, a darkness honed from years of solitude and violence. A man who rejected ties, who cast away attachments, who held only hatred and contempt for his mother's existence.
What would happen if he found out?
Would it change anything? Would it shake his foundations?
Or he would remain the same, the Dawning Devil - a force too far gone to be tethered by the weight of blood and family?
Izanami clenched her fists.
For the first time in a while, she felt uncertain.
Meanwhile outside the house, Ray stood on its porch, arms crossed, his breath slow and controlled as the crisp morning air filled his lungs. He needed this - just a moment from everything. Away from the storm inside his mind, away from the bullshit Izanami had thrown at him like a dagger aimed at his very soul.
His gaze fell to the front yard. The corpses of the Yakuza scums, the scar-faced man, and the three bastard boyfriends of Arashi's friends - gone. Cleaned up. As if last night's bloodbath had never happened.
Ray didn't doubt for a second who had done the cleaning. The Yakuza always cleaned their filth, swept their sins under the rug before the world could take notice. He almost smirked, a bitter amusement washing over him. In a twisted way, they had done him a favor. No police, no questions, no neighbors whispering in fear.
He exhaled sharply, pushing the thought aside. His eyes roamed over the neighborhood, scanning the houses, the peaceful, empty streets. Then-
His instincts flared.
A black sedan sat idly and hidden in a large bush of the house, across from him. Its presence too deliberate, too still.
Ray's jaw tensed. His heightened perception caught the subtle shift behind the tinted glass. Someone was inside, watching, waiting. Studying.
Then, the black sedan moved a forward a little bit. A flicker of movement inside. The window rolled down just a crack, and in that split second, he saw it - a camera lens aimed directly at him.
"Click."
Ray's body snapped into action.
"What the fuck?" He muttered, his muscles coiling like a spring.
But before he could make a move, the window rolled up, and the black sedan roared again to life. Tires screeched against the asphalt as it peeled away, disappearing down the street.
Ray bolted. His feet barely touched the ground as he sprinted down the steps, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He chased pushing his legs to the limit, his mind flashing back to that night -
Déjà vu.
Nakamura's death. The same damn thing had happened back then. A car, without a plate number, speeding away before he could get his hands on it.
His boots slammed against the pavement as he rounded a corner, eyes locking onto the sedan as it weaved through the streets. He was gaining. Just a little more -
The car swerved into the intersection, narrowly avoiding a passing truck before disappearing into the maze of Kichijoji neighborhood.
Ray skidded to a halt, chest heaving, frustration biting at his nerves.
Another fucking escape. Another question without an answer.
His fists clenched as he turned back toward his home, his mind spiraling with possibilities. Who the hell was watching him? The Yakuza? His current enemies.
Or his past enemies like the Cartels? The KGB? The CIA? Ex - MI6? His fellow Queenswomen that went rogue?
But they were already taken care of...
Or this something much worse than theYakuzas. Something he never heard of, never faced off.