The taxi rumbled softly as Ethan leaned against the window, watching the neon lights of Neo-Tokyo blur past. His fingers tapped absentmindedly on the car door, his mind heavy with thoughts.
Ethan "Tch… Den-en-chōfu, huh? Never thought I'd be coming back here."
The driver, an old man with graying hair and a cigarette tucked between his lips, glanced at Ethan through the rearview mirror.
Driver "So, where exactly in Den-en-chōfu, kid?"
[Leon- Kid again? Damn it, this guy just won't quit.]
Ethan exhaled through his nose, forcing down the irritation bubbling up.
Ethan "Den-en-chōfu 3-chōme."
The driver gave a low whistle.
Driver "Fancy place. You sure you're headin' there and not just dreamin' about it?"
Ethan smirked, stretching his arms behind his head.
Ethan "You ask too many questions, old man. Just drive."
The driver chuckled but didn't push further. The city lights gradually gave way to wider streets, old cherry blossom trees, and massive, gated estates. The air here was different—cleaner, quieter, almost detached from the rest of Neo-Tokyo.
After thirty minutes, the taxi slowed to a stop.
Driver "Here we are, Den-en-chōfu 3-chōme."
Ethan stepped out, stretching his arms over his head as he took a deep breath.
Ethan "Haaah… Nothing's changed. Same damn rich-ass neighborhood."
The wind carried the scent of freshly cut grass and faint traces of sakura petals. The streets were eerily silent, only the occasional soft rustle of leaves breaking the stillness.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash.
Ethan "Here. For the ride. And stay put for a bit, I might need a lift back. I'll pay extra."
The driver took the bills, waving him off.
Driver "It's fine, kid. Take your time."
[Leon- Hmph. 'Take your time,' huh? If only I had that luxury back then…]
Ethan rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck before stuffing his hands into his pockets and strolling forward.
His footsteps echoed softly on the pavement as he navigated past the private tennis club, eyes searching.
Ethan "It should be near the old sakura-lined path… Den-en Westbourn Residences, 25-7."
He stopped in front of a high-walled estate with towering iron gates, the nameplate still intact despite years of abandonment.
Ethan "Den-en Westbourn… It took us a lot to decide on this name hah."
His fingers brushed over the cold metal, memories creeping in, uninvited. This wasn't just some safe house. It was meant to be a home. A dream that never had a chance to breathe.
[Leon- A criminal's life can be luxurious, but never happy.]
Ethan exhaled sharply, clenching his fists. He hated this place. Hated how much it reminded him of what was stolen from him. From Leon.
[Leon- She was supposed to be here. We were supposed to be here.]
A bitter chuckle escaped Ethan's lips.
Ethan "But dreams don't last, do they?"
His gaze hardened. He had burned the ones responsible to the fucking ground. Every last one of them. The screams, the blood—none of it had been enough to bring her back.
[Leon- And yet… the guilt never fucking leaves.]
Ethan inhaled sharply and stepped forward, pressing his palm against the gate. The metal was ice-cold under his touch.
Ethan "Five years. And yet, I still hear your voice. I still see your face."
The wind howled softly, stirring the fallen petals at his feet.
Ethan "I left this place so I wouldn't be reminded. So I wouldn't get weak."
His jaw tightened. Weakness wasn't an option. Not then. Not now.
Breaking Into Den-en Westbourn
Ethan exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he eyed the towering estate. Hmm... anyways, I can't go in like this, can I? After all, I am not Leon anymore.
He moved along the outer wall, steps light and practiced. He needed the perfect spot to break in. Den-en Westbourn wasn't just some rundown mansion—security guards patrolled, and custodians loitered about. Walking through the front gate? Suicide.
His fingers brushed the cool stone as he kept low, scanning for weaknesses. Then—there. A section of the wall, old and covered in ivy, looked weak enough to climb. If I'm gonna rob the place, might as well do it in style. After all, Leon never does anything without style.
Leon chuckled in the back of his mind. "Ain't it funny? Robbing my own house, for my own wealth. Hehe."
Ethan smirked. "Hilarious."
Gripping a thick vine, he hoisted himself up, feet pushing off the wall. Stone crumbled slightly under his weight, but he swung his leg over and landed smoothly on the other side. Years of muscle memory made it effortless.
Inside the Estate
Silence. Too much of it.
The garden stretched before him, overgrown and abandoned. Benches were swallowed by vines, stone pathways cracked like old bones. The statues that lined the paths? Unnerving. Their weathered faces stared into the dark, blank and soulless.
Leon scoffed. "Creepy as hell. Feels like those old horror flicks where some poor bastard gets dragged into the shadows."
Ethan picked up the pace. No need to linger.
He moved low, keeping to the shadows, slipping between old hedges and decorative pillars. The security lights near the guardhouse flickered. Unreliable. Good.
His goal? The back entrance.
Years ago, Leon discovered a maintenance door. Unlocked, rusted, and forgotten.
Ethan reached it, fingers brushing the corroded handle. He twisted. Stuck. He braced himself and shoved—
CREEEEAK.
He winced. Damn it.
Frozen, he listened. Nothing. No movement, no alarms. He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him.
Navigating the Mansion
The air smelled like dust and neglect. Moonlight leaked through tall windows, casting pale beams over furniture draped in white sheets. Ghostly silhouettes filled the space.
Leon never trusted too much surveillance inside. Ethan knew the old cameras were relics, barely functioning.
Leon's voice slithered into his thoughts. "Always relied on people, not machines. A camera won't stab a traitor in the back, but a person will."
Ethan clenched his jaw. Tch. Ain't that the truth.
He kept to blind spots, avoiding open hallways. Every step was measured, every breath controlled. Then—
Footsteps.
He ducked behind a statue, muscles tensed. A guard, moving slow, probably bored. Lazy bastard.
The man strolled past, flashlight swinging lazily. Ethan counted in his head. One... two... three...
GONE.
Moving again, Ethan reached the study. Leon's study.
Finding the Hidden Room
The massive oak desk. The leather armchair. The scent of old books. Just like before.
Ethan ran his fingers along the bookshelf. Where was it...
Nothing.
Not that easy, huh?
He crouched, running his hands lower. Then—his fingers found something loose. A brick, just slightly out of place. He pushed.
CLICK.
The bookshelf groaned, sliding backward, revealing a narrow passage. Hidden, just like Leon wanted.
Ethan stepped inside, pulling it shut behind him.
The Hidden Room
A single hanging lightbulb flickered overhead. Dust coated everything.
The wooden desk at the center held the real prize. Ethan wiped the surface clean, his eyes locking onto five black VVIP bank books, their matching credit cards beside them. Unlimited. Never expiring.
Next to them? Property papers.
He flipped through them. Nathaniel Westbourn's old investments. Back then? But are worthless for now? Two of the top companies in the damn country.
Leon hummed in his head. "Look at that, My old investments, just sitting here. Should I put 'em to use? Or Not? hm... it's hard to decide let's take em for now we'll see what to do with them in future hah"
Ethan just took everything—the bank books, the cards, the deeds.
At the back of the room stood a large metal safe.
He ran a hand over it. Not today. But soon.
"I'll be back for you later."
Escaping
Getting out was easier.
The guards? Predictable. Lazy patrols, same routes. Ethan slipped through the halls, retracing his steps.
Before leaving, he made one stop.
His old room.
Dust coated everything. The bed, the dresser, the forgotten remnants of another life. A world that had once belonged to Leon Mercer, but now? Now, it was just an old, abandoned memory.
Ethan stepped forward, his boots crunching lightly against the dust-covered floor. The air was stale, carrying the faint scent of aged wood and time itself. His eyes scanned the dimly lit room before settling on the old backpack lying in the corner.
"Guess this'll do," he muttered, grabbing it and slinging it over his shoulder.
He turned to leave—then stopped.
His gaze drifted toward the wooden drawer beside the bed. Something about it pulled at him, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind.
Without thinking, he reached forward, fingers hovering over the handle. A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
[Leon- "Tch… should I take it with me.]
Ethan clenched his jaw. His fingers twitched, hesitating.
Just open it.
He exhaled sharply and pulled the drawer open. Inside sat a small box, the lid slightly ajar as if it had been opened and never closed properly. Hesitantly, he reached in and lifted the box, revealing two simple yet elegant rings nestled inside.
Wedding rings.
His breath caught in his throat.
These… these were. He Bought these as a surprise for her. Never even got the chance to give them to her… Before I could tell her, she was gone.
Ethan's fingers curled tightly around the edges of the box. A weight settled on his chest, pressing, suffocating. He swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat wouldn't go away.
Take them.
His hand moved—but then, midway, it stopped.
His fingers trembled before they pulled back. His face hardened, but there was something beneath it. Something fragile. A flicker of hesitation, of grief, of something unspoken.
[Leon- Hah… Look at me. So damn sentimental.]
A sharp exhale left Ethan's lips. His head dipped slightly, eyes locked onto the floor. He let out a slow, quiet breath.
"I'm not Leon anymore," he whispered.
Leon Mercer is dead.
Ethan is all that's left.
A gentle smile touched his lips—soft, bittersweet. He took a step back, letting his fingers brush against the wooden surface one last time.
He turned away.
As he reached the door, something stirred in his chest. A warmth, a quiet farewell lingering in the air. He could almost feel her presence. See the ghost of a memory standing by that drawer.
For the briefest moment, Leon could be seen in Ethan.
"Bye, my love," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
Then, without another glance back, he stepped through the doorway.
Back through the maintenance door. Over the wall. Soft landing.
The alley was dark, the streets quiet. A taxi idled at the corner. Ethan walked up, yanked the door open, and slid inside.
The driver, glanced at him. Didn't ask questions.
"It's me Old man we're ready to leave now."
The car rumbled forward. The mansion disappeared behind him.
Ethan leaned back, feeling the weight of the bag at his feet. A slow smirk spread across his face.
What's the time Old man
6:30 PM – Inside the Taxi
Ethan leaned back in the seat, his fingers tapping lightly on the bag at his feet. A slow smirk crept onto his face.
Like a damn money heist.
He exhaled, his body sinking into the seat. The thrill of robbing himself—it was almost laughable.
Hahaha, robbing my own money was fun. Doing something like robbing myself feels really good... been a while since I did it.
Leon's voice stirred in his mind, a lazy chuckle carrying with it a hint of nostalgia.
"When I didn't join Black Fang, I did a lot of shit like this. Hehe, brings back the old times."
The driver, grunted. "Now, where to, kid?"
…
Ethan sighed. "Neo-Tokyo Café. Drop me a little distance away from the café."
The old man gave a small nod and focused on the road. Ethan let his eyelids droop. The quiet hum of the car, the slight rocking motion—it was almost too comfortable. His body was still wired, but exhaustion was creeping in.
Before he knew it, his vision blurred, his consciousness slipping…
30 Minutes Later
The taxi jolted to a stop.
"Here you go, kid. Don't forget about waiting charges."
The driver turned his head, expecting payment, but frowned. "Huh... damn kids these days." He reached out and smacked the dashboard. "Oi, wake up, brat! We're here."
Ethan stirred, blinking groggily. "Hm... huh?!"
Leon hummed in his mind, Did I fall asleep? Now that's embarrassing.
Yawning, Ethan rubbed his eyes and stretched. "Guess I got tired from this little heist..." Another yawn. "Haaa..." He grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and pulled out the remaining cash from his pocket.
"Thanks, mister," he muttered, handing over the money before stepping out.
The taxi sped off into the night.
Leon's voice lingered. "Guess this is all the boy had."
Ethan took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. "Haaah… Step one, complete."
He turned toward the café and took a few steps forward when he noticed two figures coming out. Izzy... and a girl.
His brow furrowed. What are they doing outside? Is it closing time already?
Leon tsked. "Took me longer than expected."
Ethan picked up his pace. "Hm… Hey, everyone."
Outside Neo-Tokyo Café
Izzy's eyes snapped toward him, and just like that—she stormed forward, her face red with irritation.
"Where were you all this time?! You go out for a stroll, and it takes you forever?! HUH?!"
Ethan took a step back. "Ah—I-I'm sorry! I didn't pay attention to the time!"
Izzy inhaled sharply, then exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Hmph… okay, but don't make me worry like that again, got it?"
Ethan raised a hand in surrender. "Yeah, yeah, I promise."
Lena, one of the café's coworkers, grinned. "Well, all's well that ends well, but seriously, Ethan, what did take you so long?"
Leon groaned in the back of Ethan's mind. "Oh, come on, why do they still wanna know? Brats."
Ethan cleared his throat. "Ahem… ah, well, after I checked out the school, I wandered into an alley… and saw some kids playing a game."
Lena blinked. "Oh? What game?"
Inside his head Leon snickered. "Yeah, they were playing 'Four Thugs Beat the Nerd.'"
Ethan smirked slightly. "They invited me to play, so I joined… and let's just say they all lost. Pretty badly."
Lena's eyes lit up. "Whoa! Sounds intense! What were you playing?"
Ethan grinned. "Agh... it was... Street Fight 3D. No rules."
Jordan, another coworker, perked up. "Wait… is that a new game? Never heard of it before."
Ethan smirked. "Of course you haven't. It's new and extremely underrated."
Jordan nodded. "Ahhh, makes sense."
A soft chuckle came from beside Izzy. Ethan turned to see the unfamiliar girl. She had a calm, composed aura, yet something about her felt oddly… familiar.
"Underrated, huh?" she mused.
Izzy quickly stepped in. "Oh, right! Ethan, this is Mia. She's a friend of mine and—get this—she goes to the same school you'll be attending soon."
Ethan arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Izzy nodded. "She's your age, top of her class, and she'll be tutoring you from now on."
Ethan blinked. Tutoring me?
Leon groaned. "So she'll be tutoring me, huh? And here I thought it'd be some granny… Wait. Isn't this even more weird? She's just a kid, and she's supposed to be my tutor? That's damned…"
Mia tilted her head slightly, a knowing smirk on her lips. "I hope we get along, Ethan."
Ethan straightened, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… yeah. Likewise."
Leon hummed. "Oh, this'll be interesting."
TO BE CONTINUED....