Warning: Intense, bloody violence, strong language and a scene of rape ahead.

Hired Guns

Chapter 3

Airbnb Unit- 4:37 AM

Kurumu Kurono was absolutely certain that she had never met a man that was her 'destined one'. She lived her life discontent at how difficult it was to find a viable mate that met her unbelievably high standards. The two races, humans and Yokai, were living in an era of advancement, both technologically and socially. Though however civilized they had become, it proved difficult to dispel one of the traits both species deemed as a hindrance to progress: the innate desire for sex.

Of course, Kurumu had her own moments where she vitiated the consent of dozens of males, though she had to admit, begrudgingly so, that nothing came out of her actions for she was still a virgin even to this day. To deny being above it all would be total hypocrisy on her part. Compared to the 'slut phase', as she called it, back in high school, Kurumu was a saint nowadays. She had a modicum of restraint that was found too virtuous in the eyes of even of the most venerable Succubi and Incubi.

Thus her nickname "The Virgin" was born.

Much to the envy of other succubi, Kurumu was always considered to be a natural beauty with enough potential to rival the progenitor, Lilith, herself. Most of them considered her decision to preserve her chastity as a waste of her beauty. It was a stigma in the land of the horny devils, rather than let it faze her Kurumu just said "Fuck society" and continued to live her life the way she wanted it. If she wanted to wait for the right one, her 'destined one' she would. Why let other people tell her what to do?

That's where her problems started. Kurumu had the rotten luck of being courted by men who were frighteningly consistent with their intentions to bed her, among other lascivious acts. She found it bitterly ironic that those were the type of men that flocked to her when she was at her most decent and earnest in life.

But it didn't stop there. Her integration into the human world hosted a myriad of other problems for the succubus. Potential mates placed her on a pedestal, either worshiping the ground she walked on, or having lewd designs for her enough to be considered heinous crimes against chastity. A whiff of her scent or a simple brushing of shoulders were enough to elicit such vicious arousal and unmitigated bliss that Kurumu found herself running for her dear life rather than savoring all the attention that she normally would have liked.

It was more subdued than before, but Kurumu was still an attention whore at heart. She secretly relished the attention directed to her, but strictly limited it to stares of awe when she was in the vicinity. She had no tolerance for the clingy, pushy types. And certainly not for those who were too abrasive in their methods. Kurumu, in the end, was still the virtuous gal after all.

Call her old fashioned, but she believed in real love. Love that lasted for ages and love that lasted beyond death. Though at times, she considered her options with settling down with anyone that could barely meet the minimum of her standards out of fear that she would die lonely. Alas, she stuck by her convictions… and her nickname.

With all that said, she was certain with every fiber of her existence that she had never come across anyone that was her destined one.

But when she woke up sucking the air as if it were the last breath that she would ever take, the seeds of doubt were planted in her mind. Had she really? It took a moment for her vision to adjust in the darkness. Then she remembered that they were all having a reunion.

She felt a general feeling of discomfort due to the disgusting layer of stickiness that seemed to cover her skin. It wasn't just that, but she felt her cheeks also share the same sentiments. She wiped her face, it was wet and salty. Had she been crying, she thought?

She slowly pushed herself off from the carpet rug that she and her friend had unintentionally used as a sleeping mat. Bottles of empty liquor were piled up into a corner. At least they had the decency to clean up before settling down, she thought. If it were a video game, Kurumu would be considered as the "First Blood" after a drunken Mizore sent her down a trip to the land of the wasted.

Her chapped lips quivered and her throat was parched; her saliva was thick and sticky as well. Those were sure signs of the drinker's bane: dehydration. She made her way to the kitchen while cradling her belly. Alcohol still ran rampantly in her system so she was still as intoxicated before she went down, but she still had a degree of awareness.

It was the simultaneous sensation of being slowly tortured by a throbbing headache, being shriveled as a dessert, and excessive dry heaving that made her wish that a crack in the great earth would swallow her whole just to end her misery.

"Fuck me…" the succubus slurred. She opened the fridge and grabbed a one-liter bottle of water. The cool liquid slid down her throat like rain giving life to the crops. She chugged it down greedily without pausing for breath. And like a silent assassin, a sharp migraine hit her out of nowhere. She leaned on the marble counter, barely able to support herself.

Kurumu had to take a one year break from her studies after falling into a coma due to a very serious illness- an 'illness' that even her mother, Ageha, would not disclose to her no matter how hard she pried.

By the time she returned to the Academy, her friends had already graduated and led their own lives. It was the loneliest that she ever felt. She found difficulty in fostering friendships with people who already had their own adventures and their own circles. Even though she tried going around possible cliques, none of them compared to the camaraderie she shared with the original Newspaper Club. She became the exact opposite of what she was in her first two years. If it weren't for her mother, Ageha, and the constant communication with Mizore and Ruby, she would've given up a long time ago.

She told herself that friendship was merely part of the journey. What she really should be aiming for was that diploma.

Resolute and with newfound strength, she thought that maybe she could survive the year. That is until the dreams started happening. Every night as she entered the deepest state of sleep, a man appeared. He was handsome, tall and well built. At first, she thought it was her repressed sexual desires after enduring three years of slaving through homework and projects. But as the nights continued, the dreams became more pronounced, more real.

Rather than just being a man against a black backdrop, events gradually started playing in her mind. Events that were unknown to her yet felt so familiar that she knew everything that was going to occur. It confused and frustrated her that no amount of research or rummaging through school records could identify the man that plagued her dreams.

There were days that it stopped; like the worst of it was over. But they were merely cooling periods for even more intense relapses. She sought help from her mother and her friends. She understood that they were busy at work and in their studies at university, but they were the only ones who could possibly understand her plight.

It was easy for them to tell her that her dreams were just that: dreams. She loathed their indifference. It almost sent her spiraling down in a pit of sorrow.

Kurumu refused to contact them any further and isolated herself. She wrote down all her dreams frantically trying to piece together everything like a crazed conspiracist. It came to the point that she had already abandoned school and her health.

Upon forceful entry into therapy, courtesy of her mother, and yet another break from school, the dreams ceased to continue. But she still experienced the anxiety and hesitation every time before closing her eyes. As time passed, it allowed her mind to adjust to the belief that the dreams were never coming back. Those times were but a distant memory to her for she had nothing but peaceful nights for the last eight years.

That is until she met the mysterious man in back at the cemetery.

Kurumu's knees buckled and she collapsed on the floor, clutching her chest from the dull ache spreading across it. The pain in her chest became unbearable with each resounding beat of her heart. Fluctuating between rage and incredible sadness, she smashed her fists on the tile floor. The sharp sting of what felt like unrequited love had hit her with mechanical precision. She felt wounded and utterly broken, what made it even worse was that she had no definite understanding as to why she should feel that way.

Suddenly images and memories of the time unknown to her flashed briskly through her mind in epileptic fashion. She screamed in pain from the overload. "Tsukune! Who's Tsukune goddammit!" She continued to fruitlessly slam her fists on the tile floor, even though it had become slick with her tears and blood.

But then the images slowed to crawl till it landed on a very specific scene. Unlike the frantic bombardment of sights she experienced earlier, this was serene, Gaussian in quality, and painfully romantic in portrayal. It was a kiss… And the man from her dreams was there, only this time his skin was jet black and hard to the touch as if it was made from the most durable materials on earth. His hair was bone white and his eyes were blank with a piercing red glow that evoked a sense of rabid nature.

But rather than becoming scared stiff, she pitied him. There was turmoil hidden in those red orbs of his; a conflict between the blood coursing through his veins which reeked of the death of millions and the pure soul of a young man trying to regain possession of his worldly vessel. Regardless of the monstrosity in front of her, she deepened the kiss, pouring every ounce of her love over to him.

Once they pulled apart, she saw it. The love that she so desperately yearned for was very clear and present in his eyes.

If only it was directed at her.

Rather than being a participant she found herself watching the scene unfold from an unsuspecting corner. It was the same man but in his arms was a beautiful woman; a statuesque stunner with long, silver hair that flowed with the wind. The couple shared a gaze that spoke volumes of the love they had for each other. Then they leaned in for a kiss…

Kurumu, filled with poisonous jealousy, bellowed with rage as the image of the couple got seared at the back of her mind. She kept on hitting the floor until wet cracks echoed throughout the kitchen.

The crew, awakened by the noise, turned on the lights and quickly moved in to restrain her. Mizore wrapped her in a hold to prevent her from turning her fists into bloody stumps. "Kurumu! Kurumu stop!" The succubus writhed in her hold. Mizore's strong, muscled arms managed to subdue the succubus' violent thrashing and soon her strength faded as well as her resistance. Her display of rage slowly descended into heart-rending sobs.

"Shh…shhhh…It's okay. You're okay." Mizore gently stroked the top of Kurumu's head. Her breathing had become normal, her muscular tremors had decreased and, sniffles aside, she was relatively calmer. As the crew bathed in the quiet aftermath of her weeping, Mizore let her eyes drift down to her wounded hands with an expression that bespoke of relief and worry.

"Ruby, please check if there are any medkits lying around." She calmly ordered. The older witch nodded in affirmation. Kurumu, lightheaded from the weeping sank down further into Mizore's arms. After a few seconds of reflection, she started sobbing again, not from the pain of her broken knuckles, but from the sheer confusion of her ordeal. Mizore held her tighter "It's okay… it's okay…" and kept whispering words of comfort to her ear.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?"

3:54 PM

Fearing for her mental stability, the crew offered to stay with her for the rest of the day. However, Kurumu was stubbornly adamant that she wanted to be alone and away from the rest of civilization. She was absolutely embarrassed at how explosive her outburst had been. She hated herself for causing so much trouble for her friends like she did back in high school. Kurumu felt completely drained, physically and emotionally and her body just shut down after the incident. She woke up late in the afternoon. Her friends had been lounging around after canceling all of their planned activities for the day.

She promptly left the Airbnb unit despite vocal protests from Ruby and Yukari. They even locked the door so that she couldn't escape. Kurumu apologized to them, saying that she just really, really wanted to be left alone. She flew out of the window in her true form. Realizing that it was only a matter of time before a human would have been able to see her wings, she landed on the nearest building rooftop she could find and made her way down. Some guards were understandably cautious as to how she ended up on the top floor of an office building without proper security clearance. Kurumu simply used 'Charm' to defuse the situation and continued down until she reached the exit and out to a surprisingly empty street.

Before losing consciousness, Yukari applied magical potions on her broken knuckles before wrapping them up in bandages. It would take a few hours for the wounds to heal and even longer for the broken bones to mend back together. Kurumu hid her bandaged hands in her coat pockets once she saw incoming civilians. She already caused such a stir earlier that she didn't want to be the subject of more intrigue. She hailed a cab and got in. The ride was about half an hour long and she drifted in and out of consciousness. The driver hesitantly spoke louder to notify her that they had arrived at the condominium, careful at not sounding too rude. Kurumu apologized and paid the fare.

She was immediately greeted by the security guards and some of the unit owners after stepping into the lobby. Kurumu was a fairly popular figure within the condominium's community. Most of the residents knew about her even if they didn't watch her films. It wasn't every day that you get to live right next to a rising celebrity. Once she got past the trial of politely exchanging nods, she got on the elevator and punched in the button for the 7th floor. She wanted nothing more to do than to lock herself up in her unit and sleep the day away or maybe binge something on Netflix.

The swift ascent made her woozy, most likely from the remnants of the alcohol. "Sleep" she nodded "Yeah… sleep sounds good."

Once the doors opened and the familiar chime rang, she hastily stepped out of the tight confines of the elevator. She fished for her keys while she walked over to her room numbered '704'. In front of the door, she muttered expletives as she rummaged through her incredibly deep and messy purse. Come on damnit! She didn't have the strength nor patience to deal with any shit right now. She felt something sharp and metallic at the very bottom hidden under a pile of makeup and used wet wipes.

"Found it!"

Mere seconds later, the knob of the 703rd room turned. She curiously tilted her head. The room was just recently vacated. She waited to see who the new tenant-slash-neighbor was before unlocking her door. Much to her surprise and disbelief, it was the same man she met back at the cemetery. She was frozen in place and every external sensation felt numb. Her mind was in a frenzied panic and her heart was racing furiously.

She had seen enough Korean dramas to know where this was going.

It only took him a moment to notice that his neighbor was staring oddly at him. She dropped her keys once they made eye contact. Kurumu gulped; everything about him was different from the man she met yesterday. His eyes were sharper, his body language was stiffer and he had a perceptible air of frigidness as cool as the spring wind. The black trench coat he wore plus the white shirt and tie combo only added more to his dashing looks. It reminded her of the dapper gentlemen of old and she admitted that this side of him somehow felt dangerously attractive.

Tsukune on the other hand… well, he was rightfully annoyed. The notion of a quiet and isolated life instantly got shattered the moment he laid eyes on her and vice versa. Not only that, but his presence also posed a significant threat to her physically as well as mentally. In addition, he knew how violently persistent Kurumu was towards the things that caught her fancy. He couldn't allow himself to be involved with her any further than this one chance encounter. It was a risk he wasn't willing to take. As soon as he got back, he would petition to move to a different location. Boss or not, Fangfang would also get a taste of his mind. This was far too convenient for a simple coincidence, Tsukune thought.

While he was preoccupied with various ways of settling this frustrating situation, Kurumu fidgeted at the sustained eyeballing and tried her best to avoid his piercing gaze. It managed to turn her on and terrify her at the same time. He really wasn't like the relaxed and aloof fellow yesterday.

"H-Hi…So… we're neighbors huh?" there was a slight tremble to her voice.

Her mouth hung open as she watched her neighbor wordlessly turn around. Her failed attempt at small talk left a burning gash that would surely leave a mark. There was nothing more painful and humiliating than to be left hanging in the air. It felt like being hit with a shotgun point-blank.

Kurumu thought it was rude but she was visibly saddened by his sudden frosty persona. There wasn't even a simple 'hey' or any other form of greeting. She could tell that he wasn't happy to see her, much less found her company a pleasant surprise, given the look, he gave her and his poorly hidden eagerness to leave. Most men would at least try to flirt with her, but the way he ignored her as if she was a mere nuisance struck a blow in her pride.

She didn't even get to ask his name.

Kurumu sighed in defeat; there was no point in going after people like him. She felt stupidly naïve in that she even considered giving him a housewarming gift or something like that.

"Asshole." She shook her head in disappointment "Forget about him Kurumu."

The succubus bent down and snagged the keys with her finger and then tried to unlock her door, but the slightest pressure on her hand sent a jolt of sharp pain coursing through her. She had underestimated the extent of the damage she had done to her knuckles. Just because the pain had stop doesn't mean it was completely gone. She tried for a second time with her left hand, but could only insert the key for a few centimeters before the pain took over again. The subject regarding her neighbor was far from her mind now, replaced with the unbelievably difficult task of opening her fucking door. The thought of breaking it down certainly crossed her mind.

"Damn it!" The keys slipped from her hands. It really wasn't Kurumu's day. In a fit of blind rage, Kurumu slammed the side of her balled fist on the door. She regretted the idiotic move, not a second later when the impact shook the recuperating bones of her knuckles and dislocated wrist. She wanted to scream out in pain but she held it in. A pained whimper escaped from her tightly clenched teeth instead.

Tsukune heard Kurumu fumble with her keys and it went on till he was a few feet from the elevator. He was already at odds with his conscience at how to deal with this unnecessary baggage; the sound of constant jingling didn't help. His irritation peaked when he heard a loud 'thud'. He turned around visibly irked, but his irritation got washed away instantly.

She looked vulnerable, nursing that injured hand. Her hair, though short, was messy and oily. Her eyes were bloodshot and there were faint trails of mascara on her cheeks. She was deathly pale, though you wouldn't notice it from the blood pooling on her face. She had a shit day, he could tell that much.

Perhaps… he was too callous back there. Kurumu was still his friend, even if she couldn't remember him. She was a nice girl; warm and friendly, totally undeserving of such treatment. He wouldn't want to be another addition to one of her 'bad days'. He was fully aware that he had contributed a great deal to the pain she had to endure. His look softened and the cold wall of his crumbled. The two locked eyes once again. Kurumu pursed her lips and looked away, still pissed.

Just this one time, he thought. It was the least he could do as a human (ghoul) who had questionable decency. The succubus snuck a glance. Her heart sprung back to life once she saw his slightly worried visage. What's with this man? Why does he make her feel things?! She tried putting up a tough front. After all she wasn't an easy woman. It eventually started chipping away as he got closer and by the time he was in front of her, she was back to being as giddy as before.

He reached for the keys and showed it to her. He shuffled through them; there must've been at least five keys. Who knows what the other keys opened. Tsukune towered over her diminutive frame and she could only tilt her head up to meet his eyes. She was utterly mortified that her rapidly beating heart could be heard within earshot. He presented her a black key with almost the same texture and grooves as his. He opened the door upon a nod of affirmation from her.

He let go of the knob and removed the keys, handing it to her in one suave move. It was all so fast that she realized he was already gone before she could've said her thanks.

Maybe he wasn't the asshole that she thought he was. She smiled and went inside her condo.

But then a thought hit her:

"Should I tell Mizore?"

Tsukune never expected to have a run in again with Kurumu after visiting the cemetery. So he let it slide the first time, thinking that the chances of stumbling into her path were slim but not impossible. Maybe he'd run into her while in the grocery store, or at a bar. At least he could keep up a façade so that she'd never know who he really was. He could even ditch her after such meetings and never show his face again.

But to live right next to her…it opened up so many possibilities that would probably end in misery for both of them. He ran a hand through his hair and swept it to the side. He grumbled a few unintelligible words before breathing in deeply to regain his composure. He'd think about the 'Kurumu Problem' later. The elevator reached the basement parking 'A' and he exited. There were so many freaking cars, but his own was easy to spot so he didn't exert much effort in finding it. Tsukune pulled out his car keys and unlocked his vehicle remotely.

It was a black 1992 twin turbo Toyota Supra JZA70 MK3 complete with pop-up headlights and a removable top for windy, open drives. Tsukune got in and started the car. The thunderous roar it made upon ignition indicated that the car's engine had been swapped with a souped-up 2JZ rather than the 1JZ. It was truly a powerful beast, one that could make incredible highway pulls. Though the car had a boxy body shape that screamed the late 80's, it still had its own intimidating charm that could rival any pony or muscle car.

It was a surprise that inside the hard-edged vehicle was filled with creature comforts, such as padded, three-way adjustable bucket seats and various types of suspension for optimal driving. It also had a digital dash for the tachometer, speedometer along with regular analog ones for the boost gauge, water, etc… One could only wonder why Tsukune would pick such a car when he had enough resources to buy a Nissan GTR.

Tsukune put it into first gear and stepped on the gas.

Shinjuku District, Tokyo- 8:49 PM

Alan Yu, a middle-aged man, sat alone in his dimly lit restaurant, bloody and beaten to a pulp. A few weeks ago, he, along with his wife, Hui Yin and their three lovely daughters, legally immigrated to Japan from Hong Kong hoping to start a new life. They found a quaint little place in the bustling district of Shinjuku that was up for grabs after the previous tenants went bankrupt.

The restaurant, in its infancy, was a hit with the locals and the salarymen who wanted a taste of Hong Kong. The family was composed of polite, hardworking people- always giving the customers bright smiles and great services. One night, as the last customer waved at them and thanked them for the food, Alan looked at his wife lovingly, thankful that everything went well. There was still room for precaution, but they played it safe and went with the flow accordingly.

And then last night happened…

The man sat across an empty table with a bottle of whiskey in his right hand and an almost burnt our cigarette on the right. The restaurant that they lovingly built was in shambles. Windows were smashed; China and other plates were shattered along the tile floors and tables were either wrecked or flipped over. Not to mention the bullet holes that lined the walls. He didn't even bother trying to clean the dried up blood that coated the floor.

Flies were buzzing around his bandaged knee; the wound was probably festering down there. But he didn't care.

Alan stared into nothingness. He was more of a living statue than a man. Tears streamed down his bloody cheeks, but he didn't seem to register them and only continued idly drinking the whiskey. His ears twitched when he heard the bells chime as the door to the shop opened.

"Get out." He said, never taking off his eyes from the void he was staring at. His voice was hoarse and dry from his excessive smoking. Somebody must've been stupid enough not to see the dire state of his restaurant. He heard footsteps and they were closing in on him despite stepping on broken glass and porcelain. This guy really doesn't get it, huh?

"I said get the fuck out!" he pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the intruder. At first, he only saw a silhouette as his vision was already clouded with his own blood. Then a pair of glowing red eyes peered through the dark.

"Are you seriously turning down a regular customer?" the man said coldly with hints of sarcasm.

Alan lowered the gun as he saw the so-called 'intruder' "Mr. Aono?"

"Do you know why I'm here, Alan?"

Tsukune waited for a reply but gave up rather quickly. He sat across the broken man and leaned back on the chair. He scanned the surroundings, taking in all the details before going back to Alan. "You could've told us you were moving to Japan. Instead, you decide to run off without telling anyone a goddamned word. We could've provided protection for your family." Tsukune observed the numerous bruises and wounds that adorned Alan's features. The man's face twisted sardonically at the word 'protection'. The Huang Family was the very thing they needed to get away and be protected from the most.

"Don't you understand? I wanted out! I don't want my family involved with your business anymore, Mr. Aono." He was suddenly livid. There was thick bile that rose up his throat, sourly bitter. "My daughters are growing up and my eldest was going to have a family of her own. I didn't want my grand-kids to inherit a fucking weapons cache."

The ghoul's face was unreadable, but he still listened intently on what Alan's reasons were. The broken man was starting to weep; his words became garbled from the tears and spittle. Tsukune let the man release his pent up anger and frustration. "I really wanted to live my life in peace… away from the bloodshed that followed the Family. You'll understand Tsukune Aono, you'll understand once you get a taste of freedom."

Alan had been part of the Huang Family for so long, that he couldn't remember a day when he didn't handle the weapons that they illegally smuggled and hid in his restaurant back in Hong Kong. He lived his life as a merchant of death, but when he held the life he had created with the woman he loved, everything changed. He saw it as a chance for redemption, but in the end, all the sins he committed eventually dragged him down.

Tsukune pitied the man. He had known him to be the tough-as-nails arms dealer of the Huang Family. But to see him desperately cling to the idea of a normal, peaceful life...He didn't know if his pity was born from the sheer naivety of his delusions or that he himself had the same delusions.

"Tell me, Alan… how's life on the other side?" Tsukune asked earnestly.

The broken man had already stopped weeping and wiped the tears off of his face. Alan smiled bitterly "Better than anything men like us deserve. But you wouldn't understand, would you, Tsukune Aono? The loyal dog that you are…" He was barely fazed even when he heard the sound of a pistol hammer being pushed back down. Instead, a look of resignation was apparent in his face.

Tsukune aimed his silenced Berretta 92FS between Alan's eyes.

"On second thought, before I do you in, Alan, tell me what happened here. I only got the gist of it from Fangfang but I want the details." Tsukune placed the pistol down on the table.

A few weeks ago

It started the first week we moved here. At first, only a couple of guys would go in and demand payment for the 'protection fee', but it was nothing a little bit of 12 gauge buckshot couldn't handle.

They stopped coming here after I showed them that my family and I weren't taking any of their shit. A few days later, a scrawny, bucktoothed punk started coming here. Let's call him Weasel. Every day he'd look at my eldest daughter, Hui Mi, with the eyes of an animal in heat. I only warned him, but since he didn't do anything yet, I let it slide. And then his visits became more frequent and he became more aggressive with the way he treated my daughter. Then it turned into full-blown sexual harassment. I moved in to straighten him out but the eldest's husband got to him first. He beat the motherfucker within an inch of his life and he ran away with his tail between his legs.

The husband's name was Johnny Yuen and he was the best son-in-law that a father could have. He was once a waiter in this restaurant and there were times that I caught him and my daughter stealing some knowing glances. I knew from then on that something was up between them. Like any normal father, I had my doubts and concerns, but after seeing the man's sincerity and humbleness, I let him court my daughter.

After they got married, Johnny found work here in Japan as a car salesman. He got promoted rather quickly to Branch Manager. He had an even better deal going for him when the family moved here so that his wife could be with him. I saw a bright future for them and it was the happiest that I ever felt, especially when I learned that my daughter was already eight weeks pregnant.

Last Night

Last night was another fine time for work as there was a steady flow of cash coming in and dishes coming out. My wife was busy counting the money we made, while my daughters were cleaning the tables and the plates. Johnny, being a dutiful son-in-law, mopped the floor. He already had a job of his own, but he always helped out with the business whenever he had the time. God bless him.

Then the same band of thugs brazenly went inside my restaurant as if they owned the place. This time, they brought their fifteen of their buddies with them. I calmly told them to leave and that I would not pay their 'protection fees'. They didn't show any signs of backing down, so I was quick to draw a gun and so were my wife and Johnny. I told my daughters to go upstairs. However, my eldest daughter was, regrettably, at the wrong place when the thugs went in. She was the closest to the door and they already had a gun pointed at her before I knew it.

We dropped our guns. We didn't want anything to happen to my daughter and grandchild. The goons surrounded us and kicked the back of the knees so that we were down on the floor. Then I saw him- the fucking Weasel that my son-in-law bodied, smiling triumphantly from the rear. Payback, huh? I thought.

He had this disgusting smirk that led to so many unsavory implications. It took everything I had not to do anything rash. They shut down the metal store shutters and I knew that shit would go down from there.

They brutally battered Johnny as he did with the Weasel. Blood covered every inch of his face as he dropped on the floor, twitching with the little life he had left. His eyes were almost swollen shut and his lips looked like they were stung with a hundred bees. My daughter started screaming hysterically and one of the goons whipped her with a pistol. It was enough of a reason for me to jump them, but they shot out one of my kneecaps. It leaked like a fucking faucet, and I howled in pain.

My wife tried to retaliate and got a few good hits in but they considered a threat and gunned her down. I saw my wife's lifeless body slump down right in front of me. Shock held me in a vice-like grip. Then the Weasel started violently stripping my daughter. She fought back with all her might. I screamed and begged them to stop all of this, but they didn't listen.

They silenced me with the butt of a shotgun. It dislocated my jaw and I could only watch as they took turns in violating her. The Weasel then ordered the rest of his men to go upstairs and 'collect' the rest of my daughters.

Her screams miraculously gave Johnny a jolt of adrenaline. He rose with all the fervor of crazed, bloodthirsty warrior. He lashed out wildly and viciously while they were vulnerable at having their dicks out. It gave me an opening. I grabbed a pistol on the floor and started blasting away. The pain effectively hindered my aim, but I managed to fatally hit some of them.

I heard gunshots upstairs and the dead bodies of the goons that were sent there rolled down the stairs like a bunch of lifeless rag-dolls. My daughters went down armed with Benelli M3's. Their participation in the commotion almost handed us control of the situation. While Johnny tried getting to his wife, I laid down suppressive fire. Even when a bullet went through my shoulder I kept firing.

It was chaotic and explosive. The first, real firefight I had in years. We lost the advantage when my daughters ran out of shells. Before I knew it, Johnny was also hit in the stomach. My pistol clicked, dry. My younger daughters were overpowered and knocked out by the thugs and Johnny… well, not much was left of Johhny's head. The Weasel took advantage of the fact that he was incapacitated and smashed his head in with a broken table leg till his brains were splattered all over the floor.

The Weasel aimed for my head. The fucking idiot thought it was surely a headshot, but it just grazed my temple. That was the last thing that I saw before I blacked out.

When I came to, a crowd had already gathered outside the store as well as reporters. The cops were doing investigations inside, but then I heard one of the cops talking about "eliminating any possible survivors."

They were fucking cleaners; probably paid off by the mob. While they weren't looking I managed to escape to the hidden storage basement that this shop had. I didn't know how I pulled it off but as you can see I'm still alive.

Present

Tsukune, satisfied upon hearing the entirety of the events that occurred, stood up and aimed the pistol at Alan with almost no trace of sympathy. He had the eyes of a dead man, cold and hollow. He pulled back the hammer unflinchingly like he had done so a million times.

Alan knew this was coming. He had to face the harsh reality that the peaceful life he always wanted would always end with him staring down the barrel of a gun.

The life that they led, it followed them maliciously. It was relentless in its pursuit, never stopping until it had dragged them back down one way or another.

You can bury it all you want. But it will keep coming. Always.

He was just a man, unlike Tsukune and Fangfang who had abilities far surpassing anything he had ever seen in his life. He truly felt the limitations of being human when compared to the monster in front of him. What can he do? He will never beat Tsukune in his state, even if he did, even if he reached the best possible outcome where he managed to rescue his daughters, the Family will go after him.

His thoughts go back to his captured daughters, his dead wife, and his dead son-in-law. Alan was at a complete loss. At his core, he was a world-weary individual, but the time he spent with his family taught him to look for the silver lining in every bad situation; to try and be optimistic whenever he can. It proved helpful in starting their restaurant. He felt that would be able to live life at its fullest with that mindset. But the very foundation of such idealism crumbled down and he was back to square one, maybe even lower than that.

He only had one shot.

With resignation, he sighed. "Before you kill me…" He bowed his head and placed both of his hands flat on the table. He would've gotten on both knees, but it was the best that he could do, given the situation. "Please…please save my family." His life was already forfeit. But there was a chance for his family to get away from this nightmare.

His daughters… his sweet girls… they were all that's left. He would do anything, even if it meant killing himself so that they could have a chance of happiness that was robbed of him.

The unwavering grip that Tsukune had on the pistol started to falter.

"I don't care what happens to me anymore, Tsukune. Please, for a friend, please… I beg of you...save my family!"

"You're pathetic." Tsukune reigned himself in, eyes passionately burning "You would even ask a stranger to save your family? You really don't deserve your life."

Tsukune pulled the trigger and fired four shots.

The Supra sped across the streets with blazing speed. He ignored all the hails from the cops that were on his tail. He was skilled enough behind the wheel to completely lose them. And he did it all as if it were second nature to him.

His eyes were completely glazed over with murderous intent. It was in the way he drove the car that revealed the resolve hidden under his otherwise stoic facade. The inline-six engine deafeningly roared along the streets of Roppongi.

Inagawa-Kai, Roppongi Branch- 3:50 AM

In a small three-floor office building was one of the Inagawa-Kai's branches. The building was dilapidated both in and out, except for the boss' main office, which was neatly furnished. It had everything, from smooth wooden floors to the basic amenities and entertainment. It was a serious contrast to the scenery outside of its double doors. The building had long and narrow corridors with offices on each side. Dust accumulated on the very four corners, the paint on the walls was peeling off and the general scent of the place reeked of something dank. Aside from being a branch of the Yakuza, the building also doubled as a makeshift apartment complex for the members inside. They used the abandoned offices as their living quarters so they would be readily available if the need for them arose.

"Boss, what do you plan to do with them?"

"Break 'em then we sell 'em." Weasel, whose real name was Keita Shinohara, was in the process of shooting up heroin. The needle pierced the thick vein along his forearm and pumped the narcotic deep in his bloodstream. The heroin numbed the pain from a stray bullet that grazed his rib. He felt a rush of euphoria as he sunk back down on the sofa of his office.

"That hit the fucking spot."

The girls; Hui Mi, Zhi Zhi, and Ru Shi were tied up and gagged in a corner, unconscious and drugged. Weasel had intended to sell them off to the black market. But he would get to taste them first. They were very beautiful women with soft, smooth and supple skin- natural beauties that were going to cost a fortune. He glanced to his side, to where the girls were, mental faculties heavily clouded by the junk. He remembered fucking the eldest back at the restaurant while her husband and father watched. It was the type of power that he loved getting drunk on.

A bulge formed on the crotch of his pants. He started rubbing it until it became rock solid. He pulled out his erected dick and gave it long strokes. Keita stared at the eldest daughter maliciously while he jacked-off. He craved for an encore with the object of his unbridled lust.

His right-hand man directed his gaze somewhere else, the image of his boss' schlong was the last thing he wanted to see. Fucking disgusting, he thought.

"Yagi, bring her to me."

"W-what?"

"I said fucking bring her to me!" He aimed his gun towards his right-hand man and fired a shot that narrowly missed its target. Fear overtook the man and quickly carried off the eldest daughter and placed her on the sofa right beside Keita.

Keita took a momentary pause to tear the remnants of her tattered clothes. His dick throbbed with excitement as he molested the unconscious woman. He started laughing maniacally as he reached all new levels of arousal and elation. Once he was done with her, the other two were next.

A goon dressed in typical yakuza garb went out from one of the improvised rooms on the second floor. He had a lit cigar in his mouth and was probably planning on finishing it outside. There was a brief flicker of the lights, which was not an unusual occurrence given the state of the building. It was only then that he noticed a man standing at the far end of the hallway. He was clad in black Spec Ops gear sans the helmet, protective eye cover, and insignias. The only form of concealment he wore was a black tactical face mask that covered the lower half of his face- from the nose down to his chin.

The lights blinked intermittently. The goon swore he saw a pair of red eyes glowing in the fleeting moments of darkness. He spotted the suppressed Berretta 92FS that the man held in his hand "Hey! What the fuck are you doing here?"

A silenced bullet hit him square in the head. The 9mm round went through his skull and hit the wall. Brain matter dripped down paint-like. One of the goons must have heard the commotion- maybe from the sound of a dead body hitting the floor.

"Oy, Miyamoto! What's the-"

Another shot hit him in the eye. His body fell down, but not before hitting the still open wooden door. It slammed against the wall in the opposite direction rather than its intended door frame. The sound alerted the rest of the tenant in the other rooms.

One by one they emerged from the makeshift rooms and a bullet was reserved for each one of them. They all fell limp and lifeless. They were quick, clean kills. Men like them probably deserved slower and messier deaths, but time wasn't a thing that he could afford.

He continued, bearing the Central Axis Relock system. It was a deadly efficient method of shooting that made encounters in tight, narrow corridors or close quarter combat easier. It was much a preferred system than the isosceles stance because it was designed so that the user could quickly aim between targets while in motion, but used in conjunction with each other they were perfect for any combat scenario; long rage to mid-range for the isosceles, up close and personal for the CAR.

He reached yet another set of double doors at the opposite end of the hall. On the other side was a staircase. He took a moment to survey the surroundings before going up. At exactly the same time, three men were also going down. He wasted no time and lunged for them in a split second. Tsukune hastily disarmed them of their weapons and incapacitated them with Jiujitsu takedowns.

One of the goons aimed for Tsukune, but he sidestepped and right hooked the goon's wrist. A stray shot was fired and it alerted the rest of the tenants of the building. Tsukune, in a swift motion, grabbed the back of the goon's head and slammed it on the wall. While the goon's head was still pinned, Tsukune clenched his right fist and delivered a devastating punch the snapped the goon's neck like a twig. He saw the rest of the henchmen writhing about on the ground and gave them each a bullet to the head.

It took dozens of dead bodies and suspicious radio silence for them to notice that a crusader had stormed the castle. Weasel was unnerved at the sudden radio chatter happening among his men.

"What's happening over there?!" he was sweating profusely, hand trembling wildly. Immediately his penis became flaccid as fear dragged him out if his high. It had the same effects of a cold shower. Thankfully he hadn't done any more damage to the eldest daughter by that time.

"We're being breached!" there were gunshots and pained groaning in the background. Any more of that and he was sure to piss himself.

"Are they cops?!" Static was his only reply. He shakily set down the radio and looked towards his right-hand man face twisted with terror and confusion as if looking for guidance.

Tsukune reached the 3rd and final floor only this time, they were waiting for him. Twenty-two men converged on the narrow hallway that lead up to the boss' office, standing as the penultimate obstacle in his bloody path. They seemed seriously underfunded. He expected them to each have a gun in their hands, but they only had knives and katanas.

He had already exhausted three clips of his berretta by that time. One was already loaded in the gun with about seven or eight rounds, and he had one more magazine tucked away in his tactical belt. He planned to save the last clip and not use it on the lowly cannon fodder.

They had their numbers. He was only one man. The odds were against him. But they failed to take in one single detail.

This narrow corridor was never meant to be overcrowded.

Tsukune shot the eight rounds with lightning speed. Eight rounds for eight heads. The bottleneck advantage had effectively withered their ranks. He dropped his magazine for a reload, but three henchmen went for him at the same time. One luckily knocked the gun out of his hand and he was forced to resort on his fists.

His blows were hard and fast. Each punch felt like being smashed with a jackhammer at full speed. His finger-less gloves already had steel-tipped knuckles and it only added to the inhumanly destructive power of his hits.

The henchmen were surprisingly fast. He was already surrounded on both sides, so he went on the defensive. They didn't give him the chance to draw out his knife or reload his gun. Tsukune slammed his fist to one of the bruiser's gut and blood spewed out his mouth violently. One of the thugs attempted to stab him the front, but Tsukune was quick to react. He opened one of the doors and used it as an improvised shield. The knife got stuck on the wooden door and Tsukune used it as an opportunity for breathing space. He kicked the door and sent it flying off of its hinges along with the thugs behind it.

The kick created an ample amount of distance between him and the goons. He rolled up his sleeves and cracked his knuckles.

"If you want to preserve the two years of life you have left, just remember Tsukune: no Youki." Fangfang's words echoed through his mind in an inopportune time.

He pulled out a pair of O-Tantos from his ankle sheaths. Tsukune went for a knife stance, like a coiled snake ready to strike. He bolted straight for the crowd, giving them no time to react. He ran across the wall and landed in the very center of their formation. He weaved through their swipes effortlessly and rapidly slashed his knives at their ankles, abdomens, and necks.

He swept his head under a punch and gave the goon three quick stabs in the abdomen. Blood poured out like faucets. A henchman managed to luckily pierce through the open area Tsukune's tactical vest along his shoulder. The pain was numbed by the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins. He quickly pulled it out and returned the knife to its owner. He jammed the knife in henchman's ear and threw a rage-filled uppercut. His neck got inverted violently and the wet cracks of bone echoed along the hall.

In the midst of the tumultuous chaos, Tsukune lost both knives and ended up scavenging off the dead bodies. The wound on his shoulder only added fuel to the fire. He wanted to end them rather quickly, but his ghoul instincts started kicking in. There was a noticeable change in the way he killed the men. The quick jabs and slices were replaced with violent, messy thrusts. He became more brutal instead of efficient.

They were down to two men. Tsukune dodged the knives with blinding speed. He disarmed one of the henchmen by twisting the poor bastard's arm until the bones were poking out. He grabbed the knife and deeply embedded it at the side of the thug's neck. The last of the men charged at him, Tsukune pulled out the knife and slashed the man's throat.

While he was in a berserk state, some of the thugs landed a few good cuts on his arms and legs, but they weren't fatal. Tsukune shrugged it off and loaded the pistol's last magazine.

Behind those double doors were five men, the Weasel, and the girls. The two younger sisters were still knocked out, but the eldest had already regained consciousness and was buck naked. The boss hid behind her and used her as a meat shield. He was useless in her eyes now and he could always get more girls.

Hui Mi squirmed and struggled to free herself from his grasps. The girl had already suffered so much pain and humiliation from their heinous violations. She begged him to let her and her sisters go, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

He reached his boiling point from her constant pleading "Shut the fuck the up!" he shouted to her ear.

They heard the door creak open ever so slightly. The men focused their attention on the door, tense and rattled. They haphazardly opened fire with their pistols and shotguns. The bullets decimated the wood like it was a piece of paper. Sharp splinters flew around as they continued their barrage until they went empty.

Wrong move.

An M84 stun-grenade rolled down on one of the holes of the door. A flash of blinding white light erupted in the room. The concussion from the blast wracked and overloaded every sensory nerve in their bodies. They momentarily lost their vision from the blast. Their bodies were incapacitated and they stumbled around the room like drunks trying to regain their footing.

Tsukune breached the room and fired five well-aimed shots. No bullets were wasted and the henchmen went down without a fight. His method of shooting his opponents always started by firing body shots, so that when they recoil from the pain, their heads were exposed, but he didn't really need to exert much effort. If he had done so, it felt like he would have overdone it.

Only Keita Shinohara was left. He was still hobbling around the room, trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened. The scrawny man found himself a shotgun on the floor and aimed it at Tsukune. The ghoul nonchalantly wrenched it out of his hold. Tsukune shot a round on Keita's kneecap. It didn't have the same results with a 9mm round. It was bloodier and messier. The buckshot eviscerated the meat and bone of his knee.

The scrawny bastard always acted tough. But the moment he came face to face with true pain, he folded rather quickly like the pussy he was. He let out a bloodcurdling scream from having his leg blown to smithereens by 12 gauge shells. He thrashed pathetically on the floor like an earthworm dying from salt.

Tsukune saw the state of the sisters and decided that a man like Keita deserved a painful death. It was the first time that Tsukune felt so much rage directed at another living human being. He was the professional that always meant business. But after seeing the torment inflicted on these innocents… it felt like a dam broke. Instead of water, it was more like a torrent of hellfire.

The first punch had a meaty crunch to it. The second made a wet cracking noise. The ghoul pummeled him till his face was caved in and didn't even resemble a face anymore. When he was done, nothing was left of the Weasel's head but red mush and fragments of broken skull, maybe an eyeball here and a tooth there.

Hui Mi was still suffering from the effects of the stun grenade, but she witnessed the display of pure wrath happen in front of her. His blood splattered face and his glowing red eyes made him look like a demon. She felt terror crawl up her spine, a natural reaction to such a frightening sight. Tsukune removed his face mask and slowly approached her to calm her down.

"Mr. Aono…?"

"Yeah… It's me."

She had known Tsukune for a long time. From the day he first stepped into her father's shop, she felt something different about this man. He was a reliable man, dedicated to his job, and was surprisingly silent most of the time. Tsukune would go to the restaurant and discuss with her father about business, maybe even grab a bite or two. Their relationship was initially confined to customer-waiter. But she mustered up the strength to start a conversation and the rest was history.

The number of times they had meaningful talks can be counted with both hands, but she still considered him a dear friend.

Her mother and husband were dead. To top it off, she was viciously raped in front of her family. The torment she underwent almost broke her. She was an inch closer from being completely swallowed whole by pitch black darkness. Then Tsukune came for her, salvation in the form of a white knight dressed in black, and pulled her out of the depths of her despair.

The deaths of her loved ones only managed to sink in completely after being rescued. All the tears that she held in, burst from the pressure. She leaped into his arms and clung to him tightly like he was about to disappear any second. She cried like there was no tomorrow, hyperventilating even. Tsukune felt her trembling in his arms and held on to her tightly, allowing her to vent all the rage, sadness and grave indignation that threatened to consume her soul.

As he remained silent, his thoughts go back to his encounter with Alan.

Tsukune fired four shots.

But Alan was still alive. He searched his body for bullet holes, but he felt none. He looked back at the ghoul, utterly confused as to why his life was spared.

"Your life belongs to me now, Alan."

"B-but what about the boss?! What would he do if he found out you didn't go through with it?!" Alan still couldn't believe what was happening. Should he be grateful? Should he be scared that the possibility of even more unsympathetic individuals would make an attempt on his life? But there was one thing that he was sure of: a chance for his daughters to be saved.

"I'll handle him." Tsukune flipped the safety switch back on and holstered the gun. "I will use you as I see fit. You will be under my command now."

Alan stared at him with terrified awe. Apprehension managed to ensnare him in a suffocating coil. What does this man plan to do with him?

"I'm ordering you…to live."Tsukune turned around "You're no use to your daughters if you're dead."

Alan bowed his head completely overwhelmed with emotion.

"Don't worry. I'll get them back."

Tsukune removed his bulletproof vest and wrapped it around the sobbing woman. He looked at her unconscious sisters and smiled. They were safe now. He willingly made a lifelong commitment: Alan Yu's family will be under his protection from now on. He would personally deal with the rest that would soon follow.

"Let's go home."

A/N: Well that was a long chapter. I hope you had fun reading this as much I did while writing it. If you like, or if you have any constructive criticism, please leave a review and subscribe! Thank you all for the reviews! Luv ya all!

Imagine Kurumu with a pixie cut that had 3 months of growth time lol