Emily Piggot sat behind her desk, glaring at the file in front of her. The name of the new organization was still listed in the official logs as "Unknown Entity #302," though it was anything but unknown. The organization had taken root in the city's underbelly, carving out a piece of ABB territory and establishing a "neutral" zone. A zone that Lung and his gang still frequented but supposedly refrained from engaging in any illegal activities. Piggot's lips curled in disdain. The idea of Lung adhering to any form of rule that wasn't his own was laughable.

And yet, the reports suggested exactly that.

"Disciplined," the summary read. "Trained." "Highly coordinated."

The kind of words you didn't often associate with a "street gang". She continued to look through the reports, her fingers tapping on the table. The top ranks of this so-called neutral organization hadn't been seen, only glimpsed in shadows or described in fragmented accounts from scattered PHO posts. They were skilled at staying under the radar. That alone made Piggot wary.

The organization wasn't entirely in the dark, however. Their rank and file, the enforcers on the streets, had been spotted often enough in the streets due to surveillance cameras as spotty as they were. They wielded custom-made weapons, a conclusion Armsmaster had come to, one she agreed with after seeing the footage. However, speculation was rife about their origins, and Piggot had little doubt that a Thinker was involved in their creation. Either that or a very specialized Tinker who could outfit an entire organization with enhanced, deadly weapons.

But the troubling part wasn't the weaponry or their discipline—it was the fact that Lung had agreed to this split in territory. The ABB's grip on the city wasn't loosening, but this deal was unlike anything she'd ever seen from Lung. A man like him didn't compromise. He crushed opposition. Lung wasn't one to share territory, in her opinion at least, so that begged the question.

"What the hell made him agree to this?" Piggot muttered.

Her mind wandered to possibilities, none of them pleasant. Lung wasn't one to be cowed by anyone easily, yet this "neutral" organization operated in a way that implied mutual respect, or at least tolerance.

But the troubling part wasn't the weaponry or their discipline—it was the fact that Lung had agreed to this split in territory. The ABB's grip on the city wasn't loosening, but this deal was unlike anything she'd ever seen from Lung. A man like him didn't compromise. He crushed opposition. Lung wasn't one to share territory, in her opinion at least, so that begged the their subordinates. It would explain the discipline, the eerie precision with which they operated.

Could this unseen leader have bent Lung to their will? A chilling thought, a stretch but not one she wasn't willing to consider just for a moment, a single moment.

"But one strong enough to influence Lung? And his entire gang?" Piggot muttered aloud and continued to look through the reports on this organization.

She flipped through the pages, detailing various encounters. The organization's members—powered or not—moved with a purpose that was unlike any other gang. Unlike the ABB's chaotic brutality, there was an air of calm about these newcomers. Almost surgical. She wondered how many of them were being molded into obedient soldiers. That was one other speculation that she had considered during the meeting about them. Perhaps they were snatching up young people, training them, shaping them into something...more. They operated like a paramilitary force, not a ragtag group of criminals.

The Empire, ABB, The Undersiders, hell, even Uber and Leet had been dangerous, and an annoyance, enough for this city. And the idea that some unknown leader had marched into her city with a group that large, undetected, and carved out territory of that size with Lung without anything giving them away made her stomach churn. But the reality felt worse than that.

Would they expand? Could they be content with merely holding a sliver of ABB territory? Piggot doubted it. Ambition was in the nature of any criminal organization, no matter how neutral they presented themselves. Today, it was a corner of ABB territory; tomorrow, it could be the entire city.

Piggot sighed to herself as her fingers danced across her desk, absently tapping against another stack of reports from the PRT's second intelligence division. It wasn't any better than the first, it mentioned most of the same thing. They spoke of glimpses of masked figures, weapon-wielding members, and an air of respect that seemed to surround the organization.

Most concerning was the fact that the head of this enigmatic group had yet to be seen, leading her to wonder just what kind of influence they wielded.

Piggot's instincts told her that whatever deal had been struck with Lung, it was one that favored this organization more than it did the ABB. In a city where power dynamics shifted with every new gang, the notion that a group could operate with such a high level of discipline was making her uneasy. Her thoughts turned to the threat ratings assigned to this organization—currently set at 5 on the PRT's scale, reflecting potential but also uncertainty. They were neither outright hostile nor benign, but the unknown was always the most dangerous element of all.

The reports from officers patrolling near the border of this territory added another layer of complexity. Members of "Unknown Entity #302" were seen tossing out individuals who wandered too close, or seemed "disorderly" but the community in the area responded with what appeared to be gratitude rather than resentment. It was bizarre, and not just because of the absurdity of a "gang" being thanked for their vigilance. These people were acting as if they were part of the organization's extended family, raising questions about the relationship between the organization and the residents they interacted with. Were they under some form of influence, like how she suspected Lung is under? Or had this organization established genuine rapport? Emily did not like being left out of the loop on things and she certainly didn't like this organization, there is no telling how long they've been in her city, watching and preparing. For what? Emily didn't know yet but she was going to find out one way or another.

"Every piece of the puzzle has to be accounted for," Piggot reminded herself, her brow furrowing as she made mental notes of everything she'd need to discuss with her team. It was imperative to gain a clearer understanding of this organization, their capabilities, and their intentions.

With Lung's reputation as a loose cannon, the notion of him playing nice for longer than a month to this "new" organization was almost amusing. But it had been done, surprisingly. She imagined him, the fiery dragon of the ABB, cooperating with an organization that embodied an entirely different ethos. What had transpired for this uncharacteristic alliance to flourish? There wasn't enough information and it wasn't like she could go and ask Lung how the agreement was made and why he agreed to go along with it.

The limited sightings of their higher ranks only added to the mystique. Piggot's instinct told her this was a calculated move; maintaining anonymity and keeping the PRT in the dark were tactics she recognized well.

"What's their endgame?" she mused aloud. "If they're this disciplined, there must be a purpose behind their actions." The information coming in about their patrols—occasionally ejecting undesirables and even confronting police officers—raised red flags. There was a sense of unease that accompanied their presence. How long could this calm facade last before it cracked? The PRT had always operated under the assumption that power dynamics were in constant flux, and any semblance of stability could unravel at any moment.

However, Piggot felt uncertain about the rating. This organization was unknown and covered in secrecy, and the lack of hard evidence meant any assessment could be rendered obsolete at a moment's notice.

As she contemplated these questions, Piggot felt a twinge of frustration. Why had this organization emerged now, and how long had Lung been aware of them? The complications were endless, and without concrete evidence, she felt as though she was navigating through thick fog, her every decision clouded by uncertainty. This organization could be a potential threat lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to strike when least expected.

And Emily wasn't going to wait around for that to happen.

Piggot pressed a button on her desk, contacting the one man that was best suited for what she needed; she would have a surveillance team to watch this organization closer to keep a closer eye on them.

"Yes Director, what do you need?" Armsmaster answered, quick and straight to the point. Good. Emily could trust that Colin would be the right man for the job, however, with resources a bit thin she needed someone to be on it and quick.

"I want you to set up a surveillance team, get me information on this organization. I want it compiled. Cross-reference any interactions with Lung that you see with previous reports and any records of potential associations. I want to know what we're dealing with before they decide to make another move in my city, that is if they haven't already."

"It'll be done." And with a click, the conversation ended, ah, this isn't something Emily wanted to deal with right now, in fact, she wanted to get on top of this now rather than later before it becomes a problem. A problem she can't solve and that couldn't happen.


The meeting room was dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves of old texts and scrolls. The Hashira stood around the long table, their expressions a mix of calm contemplation and curiosity. The air was filled with a certain tension, the kind that came when Kagaya Ubuyashiki, their enigmatic leader, was about to propose something unexpected.

Sanemi stood with his arms crossed, muscles tense beneath the uniform that symbolized his place as the (former?) Wind Hashira. He had long grown used to Kagaya's calm, measured approach, but that didn't mean he didn't feel the occasional need to challenge it—especially when it came to proposals he didn't quite agree with.

Kagaya sat at the head of the table, his gentle smile ever-present. The room fell silent as his voice, soft but commanding, filled the space.

"I have been considering a new course of action," Kagaya began, his eyes sweeping over each Hashira in turn. "The time has come for us to have eyes in places where we would not normally be able to get to without drawing too much suscpicion to ourselves, places where we can gather information discreetly." His voice was steady, his tone warm as always, but there was a weight to his words that made the Hashira stand even straighter.

Sanemi's brow furrowed slightly. "With all due respect, Kagaya-sama," he said, his voice respectful but firm, "we have plenty of responsibilities as it is. Our divisions, the territory...I don't see why we need to involve ourselves with schools. We're fighters, not teachers. Besides, you already have that demon woman at that Winslow school so why would you want to stretch us thin?"

Kagaya's smile remained unshaken, though his eyes grew softer, as if he understood Sanemi's concerns before they were even voiced. "I understand, Sanemi. But the information we gather is crucial, now more than ever. Arcadia High is a place of interest to me. I would just like to observe the school interactions closely. Just to gather some insight."

Sanemi gritted his teeth slightly but remained silent. The idea of sending someone to play the role of a gym teacher seemed trivial, almost a waste of their skills. Their work on the streets was far more vital, or so it seemed to him.

Kagaya continued, his voice as gentle as a summer breeze. "This is not a permanent position. Merely a day to make introductions, observe the environment, and leave. I have already placed someone in the school." He let that information linger in the air, knowing it would pique their curiosity.

Someone had already been sent? The Hashira glanced at each other in mild surprise, but Kagaya did not elaborate right away.

"I've placed a student within Arcadia already. He is there to observe, nothing more. The position of a temporary gym teacher will serve to widen our scope. To look where he obviously can't as a student."

Sanemi clenched his fists, his objection unspoken but palpable. He wanted to argue further, but something in Kagaya's calm demeanor made him pause. The idea seemed absurd to him, but the master always had a reason to do something, even when they weren't immediately clear.

"Who's the student?" Tengen asked, his flamboyant tone cutting through the tension. "You've sent a kid to school without telling us? That's not very flashy of you master."

Kagaya only chuckled softly at Uzui's words, he was always a cheeky child, he liked that about him. "You'll be pleased to know it's Tanjiro. He has already made several acquaintances, and he is quite popular among his peers."

Sanemi couldn't help but let out a soft huff of disbelief. Of course, it's Tanjiro. The boy's ability to make friends and charm people never failed to irritate him, even if their relationship had improved over time. Though the animosity from the Taisho Era had lessened, Sanemi still found Tanjiro's sunshine-like personality grating at times. But he could acknowledge, begrudgingly, the boy's effectiveness. That much he had to admit.

Sanemi remained stoic, but he couldn't stop the inevitable question. "Who will you be sending to play this…gym teacher?" he asked, though a part of him already dreaded the answer.

Kagaya's smile deepened, his eyes locking with Sanemi's. "You, Sanemi."

For a moment, Sanemi's usual composure cracked. His eyes widened in shock. "Me?" His voice was incredulous. "Why me?"

"You are strong, and your presence demands respect," Kagaya explained, his tone soft yet unyielding. "Your discipline and no-nonsense demeanor will make you the perfect candidate to observe the students and any other oddities you come across. And you will be able to keep others at arm's length while still gaining valuable insight."

Sanemi grit his teeth but forced himself to take a deep breath. He bowed his head slightly. "As you wish, Kagaya-sama," he said, though it was clear he wasn't thrilled.


The next day, Sanemi found himself standing in front a class full of high school students.

His usual white hair was dyed black, his scars covered with expertly applied makeup that made him look like any other adult. His eyes, however, still held that sharp, stormy intensity that made the students wary of him immediately.

He wore the standard gym teacher attire, his sharp, lean frame hidden beneath a loose tracksuit, and though he looked different, there was still an air of danger about him that made the students keep their distance.

"Alright," Sanemi began, his voice hard and commanding, "I'm your substitute gym teacher for today. Your regular coach is out, so I'm here for just this class. You will call me Coach Sato or Mr. Sato, there is no in-between."

The students exchanged nervous glances. Some whispered among themselves about his unnerving presence.

One student, however, sat quietly in the middle of the class, his hair black and neatly trimmed, his face free of any scars or noticeable marks. Kenji, Tanjiro in disguise, raised his head and offered a warm smile to Sanemi—who ignored him completely.

Sanemi's eyes scanned the room, landing briefly on Tanjiro. He's already got friends here. Sanemi thought with a twinge of annoyance. Of course he does.

As the students shuffled to the field for gym class, Sanemi's gaze lingered on the open space, subtly watching for anything unusual, which isn't much considering this was just a high school. He wasn't here to teach. He was here to observe, to watch the students and catch anything that Tanjiro happened to miss. His sharp eyes would catch details most people would miss. Of course given the fact that he would have to watch out for the second period of Gym class. Considering that Glory Girl was in that class. Ha, more work for himself he supposed.

As for Tanjiro, the boy who seemed to make friends as easily as breathing, Sanemi could only sigh internally. Though the animosity from the past had faded, he still couldn't completely shake his irritation. But for now, they had a job to do. They were here to gather information, nothing more.

Still, Sanemi thought as he turned his gaze back to the students, this school better be worth all this trouble.