The hours slipped by in a blur as Raito settled into his usual rhythm—emails, reports, a brief meeting. He moved through it all like clockwork, as if the morning's chaos had never happened. By 5:00 PM, he logged off, gathered his things, and left the building.
Finally, Kurai mumbled. I thought you'd fused with that desk.
Raito ignored her as he stepped into the evening air. It was cool against his skin, a quiet contrast to the bustling streets filled with commuters and the scent of dinner from nearby restaurants. He walked steadily, just another face in the crowd.
Then he turned a corner—and stopped.
Red and blue lights pulsed ahead. A police car was parked at the curb. From it stepped a young woman in a dark uniform, her long black hair pulled into a sharp ponytail. Her eyes locked onto him.
"Mr. Raito Yakamura?" she called, striding toward him.
He kept his face neutral. "Yes. Can I help you, Officer…?"
"Detective Yumi Aikawa," she said crisply. "I'd like to ask you a few questions."
A detective. This wasn't good.
"Of course," he said with a polite nod. "What's this about?"
Yumi flipped open a small notepad. "We received reports of a hit-and-run this morning. The vehicle was stolen—black sedan. Witnesses say you were struck."
Raito's posture remained composed. "Yes. Fortunately, it wasn't serious."
"You didn't go to the hospital," she said, watching him closely. "Why not?"
"I didn't think it was necessary." He shrugged lightly. "I am just a bit shaken so I preferred to continue with my day."
She studied him for a moment, eyes sharp and calculating. "You were lucky. But did you see the people in the car—the thieves?"
He shook his head. "It happened too fast. I barely saw anything before I hit the ground."
He lied—but it was necessary. He didn't need deeper involvement.
Yumi tapped her pen against the notepad. "If anything comes back to you—even a small detail—report it immediately." She handed him a card.
Raito accepted it without hesitation. "Understood."
She gave him one last look, then returned to her car.
Just as Raito turned to leave, he noticed something across the street.
Two men, standing near a convenience store. Watching him.
His gaze sharpened. Rough appearance. Tense posture. Eyes flicking between him and the detective.
The thieves.
And they recognized him.
Ooh, Kurai purred. This just got interesting.
Raito slipped the detective's card into his pocket and continued walking without pause.
He exhaled. "When do I get a break from this?"
But he already knew the answer.
They were coming for him.
Raito turned into a quiet alleyway, the narrow space between buildings offering solitude. He leaned back against a cold brick wall, checking his watch.
Kurai was right.They saw me. They'll come.
Sure enough, footsteps echoed behind him. The two men approached cautiously—one lean with a jagged scar across his jaw, the other stockier with shifty eyes.
Raito turned slightly, feigning surprise. "Do I know you guys? Or are we just here for a smoke break?"
Another lie. He didn't smoke.
The scarred man narrowed his eyes. "Cut the crap. We saw you with the cops."
"Oh, that." Raito furrowed his brow, pretending to recall. "Some officer asked if I was okay. I said I was."
"What else did you say, huh?" the stocky one demanded, stepping forward.
"Nothing. I didn't see anything, and I told her that." Raito rubbed his neck, his tone casual. "I'm not involved in whatever you two are into. Wrong place, wrong time."
The two exchanged a glance. Suspicion lingered.
They don't trust you. Kurai's voice was silk and steel. Break one of their noses. Problem solved.
Raito ignored her. "If this is about the car, I didn't even get a good look. I was too busy getting hit."
He moved to leave—but the scarred man stepped forward, hand twitching near his waist.
A weapon.
Raito stilled, his voice level. "Is that how you treat bystanders?"
The scarred man reached.
Too late.
Raito moved.
A sidestep. A grab. A twist.
CRACK.
The man cried out, his wrist bending at an unnatural angle, the knife clattering to the ground.
Raito pivoted, striking the stocky man's knee. The man dropped with a grunt. Before he could recover, Raito slammed him into the brick wall.
The scarred one clutched his broken wrist, face contorted in pain. "Who... the hell are you?"
Raito adjusted his hold, expression flat. "No one important."
"We get it, man," the other stammered. "Just—let us go."
Raito's voice dropped. "You turn yourselves in. Quietly. I don't want more questions from the cops. Make me clean this up, and I won't be so forgiving."
They hesitated. Fear in their eyes.
"You're serious?" the stocky one whimpered.
He released him. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
The scarred man groaned. "You're insane..."
"Then test me," Raito replied, unmoved.
Silence. Then a nod.
"Fine. We'll do it."
"One more thing," Raito added as they turned to leave.
They froze.
"You never mention me. Not to the cops. Not to anyone. I was never here."
They both nodded quickly.
Raito watched them go, then turned away, hands in his pockets.
That was fun, Kurai purred. You moved fast back there.
He noticed it too. Stronger. Sharper. Quicker.
"It was a small difference," he muttered.
Sure. Just a small one. Kurai chuckled.
Raito stepped onto the main street. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting golden light.
He wasn't sure if it was a good thing.
Back at the villa, silence greeted him. He locked the door behind him and sighed, the weight of the day pressing down.
He'd avoided the police—for now. But the thieves wouldn't stay quiet. Not forever.
He ran a hand through his hair, reaching out to Kurai in his thoughts.
Nothing to say?
No response. Just her quiet presence in the back of his mind.
Resting.
Waiting.
Raito let it go. His body ached. He stripped off his clothes and fell onto the bed.
Sleep took him instantly.
At exactly 5:00 AM, his eyes snapped open.
No grogginess. Just awareness.
It had been like this since the pact. His body felt… changed. Lighter. Stronger. Humming with something not quite human.
He rubbed his face and grabbed his phone.
Saturday. No work. No obligations.
The perfect day to find out what he could really do.
He dressed in black joggers and a white T-shirt, simple and unremarkable. Grabbing his keys, he stepped into the crisp morning air.
Then he drove.
The city slowly disappeared behind him. Concrete gave way to trees. Roads emptied. Sunlight filtered through a thick canopy as he turned into a familiar clearing—private, isolated, perfect.
He stepped out of the car and stretched. Muscles coiled, ready.
This wasn't training.
This was discovery.
As the sun rose, determination flared in his chest.
"Let's find out what's new."
---
The crisp morning air filled Raito's lungs as he stood alone in the middle of the secluded forest clearing. Sunlight filtered weakly through the dense canopy, casting shifting shadows that danced across the forest floor. The drive had taken hours, but it was worth it. This place was quiet, isolated, untouched and was exactly what he needed. No prying eyes. No interruptions. Just space to push the limits of whatever he had become.
Without hesitation, he broke into a sprint.
His speed hit him first. One moment he was still, the next, the trees around him blurred into streaks of green. The ground flew beneath his feet, each stride longer and more precise than the last. It wasn't just faster—it was as if the world had slowed to accommodate him.
A fallen log loomed in his path, thick and high—an obstacle that would've forced a normal man to stop.
He didn't slow down.
With a burst of momentum, Raito launched into the air. His body sailed effortlessly over the log, clearing nearly ten meters before landing in a low crouch, silent and controlled. He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
"This is… something else," he muttered.
Next came strength.
He approached a massive, moss-covered tree trunk, long dead and sunken into the ground. Gripping the coarse bark, he tightened his stance—and lifted. The weight was immense, but his muscles responded with ease. The ground shifted beneath his feet as he heaved the trunk up and tossed it aside. It crashed to the earth with a heavy thud, splitting slightly on impact.
Raito stared at his hands. Not a tremor.
Now for the final test.
He found the largest boulder in the area—a jagged, timeworn slab embedded in the forest floor. Curling his fingers into a fist, he centered his focus, then unleashed a strike.
CRACK.
The first hit sent a deep fracture crawling across the stone's surface. He didn't stop. Blow after blow followed, each one sharper, heavier, faster. The boulder trembled, cracked, then finally shattered into a cloud of dust and broken stone.
He stood still, breathing steadily, barely a sting in his knuckles.
Then a familiar, velvety voice whispered into his thoughts.
"You catch on quick, Raito. But let's not pretend—you wouldn't be doing any of this without me."
He rolled his shoulders, unfazed. "I'll admit, this is more than I could do before. But I wasn't exactly average. Even before you, clients called me inhuman. I was a mercenary for a reason."
Kurai's laughter echoed softly. "Oh, I know what you were. But trust me—what you are now? That's still just the beginning. You're barely scratching the surface of what I've given you."
Raito didn't reply. He wasn't interested in depending on her. But deep down, he knew she was right.
He brushed the dust off his clothes and made his way back to the car. His body felt light, agile—but there was no mistaking the power humming beneath his skin.
Just as he reached for the door handle, he froze.
Something was off.
His senses sharpened, instincts flaring. Slowly, he turned.
From the trees, a group of men emerged, moving in silent formation. No one spoke, but their intent was obvious. This wasn't a coincidence. These weren't hikers.
Their eyes were locked on him.
Raito sighed, his voice low and calm.
"Looks like I've got company."