A dim glow flickered from the overhead lamp, casting long shadows across the office. Stacks of paperwork formed miniature skyscrapers on the cluttered desk, some toppling over from sheer imbalance.
Akari pressed her fingers against her temples, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her shoulders. Even with the constant hum of the air conditioner, the air felt stifling, like the pressure of unseen eyes watching her every move.
Today was going to be a long day. She knew it the moment she stepped into the office that morning, and now, hours later, the feeling remained. Yet, it wasn't just the never-ending documents that occupied her mind. It was the unsettling silence.
Leaning back in her chair, she adjusted her spectacles and exhaled sharply. Her colleague had yet to report back. That alone made the pit in her stomach tighten. It had been over twenty-four hours since she had received an anonymous tip—a whisper in the dark claiming that the Shadow Manipulator had found a successor. The implications of that statement were enough to send chills down her spine. The Irregulars were already difficult enough to monitor, but to think one of the Legends had personally taken a protégé? That could shake the entire balance of power.
Her fingers drummed against the desk. Yesterday, she had sent one of her men undercover to investigate. A lowly school was the last place she expected anything significant to happen, but the source of the tip was not to be ignored. And yet, no word had come back. That was what truly worried her.
A hesitant voice broke through the tense silence.
"Akari-san, why didn't you just ask the Shadow Manipulator directly? Wouldn't that have been easier?" Her secretary, a young woman with tied-back dark hair, stood beside the desk, arms folded.
Akari sighed. "Yeah, and risk putting a target on our backs?" She scoffed. "You know we can't make direct contact with the Legends. Either they come after us first, or we wait for the right moment."
The secretary frowned, shifting her stance. "Then why go through all this trouble? Why does it matter if he has a successor?"
Silence settled between them for a moment before Akari muttered under her breath. "Because… there's a good chance that successor could be useful to us."
She hesitated before continuing, voice quieter, more distant. "And you know what happened the last time."
The memory sent a shudder down her spine. The devastation. The loss. The sheer, unstoppable force that had torn through their ranks like paper.
"If that happens again," she murmured, fingers tightening around the edge of the desk, "who knows what will become of us."
A knowing look passed between them, and the secretary gave a slow nod.
Then—
Ding.
The chime of the door handle twisting echoed in the quiet room. Both women turned toward the entrance as the door creaked open. The fluorescent hallway lights bled into the dim office, illuminating the battered figure standing at the threshold.
The man staggered in, his clothes torn, dried blood staining the once-white fabric. He looked barely able to stand, let alone speak. His breathing was ragged, each inhale a battle against his own body. The moment he set foot inside, he collapsed onto one knee, one hand clutching his ribs.
Akari was on her feet in an instant.
"Were you followed?" Her voice was sharp, demanding.
The man shook his head weakly, swallowing hard before managing to croak out, "No."
For a brief moment, relief flickered in her chest—but it was short-lived.
The temperature in the room plummeted.
A deep, creeping chill slithered through the air, a presence so suffocating it was as though the very shadows themselves had come alive. Akari's eyes widened as dark tendrils curled at the edges of the room, swallowing the light.
And then—he emerged.
A figure stepped out of the very darkness, moving like a wraith materializing from the abyss.
Master Ryu.
A grin curled on his lips, an expression that was neither warm nor welcoming. His gaze settled on Akari, and for the first time in a long while, she felt something close to fear coil in her gut.
"Well now," he drawled, arms crossing over his chest. "Why are we playing these games, Akari?"
Her throat went dry.
"You could've just asked me about it straight," he continued, his tone casual—too casual. "You know."
The battered agent flinched at his presence, forcing himself to lower his gaze as if making eye contact would be a fatal mistake.
Akari quickly composed herself. "We had to do it. Otherwise…" Her voice faltered before she shook her head. "Enough of this. We'll handle it ourselves."
Master Ryu let out a low chuckle, his head tilting slightly.
"Yeah, right." His eyes flicked toward the man crumpled on the floor. "Your little guy over here can't even handle a simple mission. I'm sure you'll do just fine."
Akari's jaw clenched. The underlying mockery in his tone was as clear as day.
With an air of indifference, Master Ryu turned toward the door. A chilling sigh escaped his mouth as he stopped short in his tracks, right when he was about to reach for the door handle.
"Next time, give me a heads-up," he called over his shoulder. "Otherwise, I might end up killing one of yours."
The words lingered in the air like a promise.
And then, as swiftly as he had appeared, he was gone.
The tension remained long after the shadows retreated. Akari let out a slow, measured breath, her fingers gripping the desk so tightly her knuckles turned white.
The room was silent once more. But the unease remained.
She turned to her secretary, her voice low. "Get a full report from him." Her eyes flicked to the injured agent. "And tell me everything he saw."
The woman nodded and quickly moved to assist the man, but Akari remained still, her mind racing.
A successor. It wasn't just a rumor anymore. It was real.
And if Master Ryu had chosen someone…
It was only a matter of time before the entire world felt the consequences.