Blake had always lived by one simple rule—leave no threats alive. Especially not the kind that dared to insult or threaten the people he cared about. To him, trash like that didn't even deserve to breathe.
His piercing blue eyes locked onto Kouzou, who was frozen in place, his face drained of all color. The sheer brutality of what he had just witnessed had shattered any remaining bravado. He had wanted Blake dead, but seeing the bloodbath firsthand was something else entirely.
Kouzou's mouth opened, but no words came out. His legs trembled violently, and with a strangled whimper, he crumpled to the ground. If not for the fact that he was already a eunuch, he would have soiled himself in terror.
Blake didn't spare him a second glance. Instead, he flicked the blood off his Ice Whisper Sword with a casual motion before sheathing it. His voice was as cold as steel when he spoke.
"Pick up the body. Grab the severed hands and weapons. We're leaving."
The two remaining gangsters—both still clutching their bleeding wrists—flinched at his words. But when Blake's eyes flicked toward them, they scrambled to obey. Even Kouzou, shaking like a leaf, didn't dare hesitate. They were dead men walking if they disobeyed.
A short while later, a black van peeled out of the alley, leaving behind a blood-soaked crime scene and a growing crowd of horrified bystanders.
Inside the van, Blake leaned back against the seat, one hand on the hilt of his sword as he processed the situation.
The Black Blade Gang. The biggest underworld force in the city. A pack of ruthless thugs that had been running unchecked for far too long.
Blake had no illusions about what would happen if he left this matter unresolved. If he let them live, they'd keep coming for him. And worse, they'd set their sights on Airi and Marina again.
That wasn't going to happen.
"Hah... looks like I need to clean up the trash." A sharp glint flashed in Blake's eyes.
His gaze shifted to one of the injured gangsters. "Give me your phone. Call your boss."
The man hesitated, his face drenched in sweat.
Blake tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable. "Don't make me repeat myself."
The gangster jolted and hurriedly pulled out his phone, dialing a number with shaking fingers. Blake snatched it the moment the call connected.
A deep, menacing voice came through the receiver.
"Hello? Takahashi? How's the job—"
"You must be Hideki Nozaki, leader of the Black Blade Gang." His voice was calm, steady—completely unfazed. "I'm Blake, your target."
Silence. Then a low chuckle. "Oh? You're alive? That's unfortunate."
"I could say the same for your men. Takahashi is dead. The others are missing their hands. Now, listen carefully." Blake's tone remained emotionless. "I'll be waiting at the abandoned factory district on East Street. Come pick up what's left of your men."
The air in the van was suffocating. Even the two gangsters in the back were staring at him like he was the devil himself.
"Kouzou, drive faster," Blake ordered.
Kouzou hesitated, but seeing the look in Blake's eyes, he swallowed hard and slammed his foot on the gas.
He prayed—prayed—that the Black Blade Gang would tear Blake apart when they arrived. It was his only chance at survival.
Meanwhile, inside the Black Blade Gang's headquarters, Hideki Nozaki sat in his luxurious suite, his scarred face twisted with rage.
With a sudden roar, he grabbed the nearest glass bottle and hurled it at the wall, sending shattered glass flying across the room.
"That little bastard!"
The gang members standing nearby flinched at the sound of his fury.
Hideki didn't give a damn about Takahashi and the others. They were disposable. But the sheer audacity of that kid?
A no-name high schooler had not only slaughtered his men but had the nerve to challenge him directly?
If he let this slide, his reputation in the underworld would be ruined.
And that was unacceptable.
Within minutes, Hideki had gathered over a hundred of his men. Armed to the teeth with machetes, baseball bats, and even a few firearms, they piled into a fleet of blacked-out vans, engines roaring to life.
But what Hideki didn't realize was that he wasn't walking into a trap set for Blake.
He was walking into Blake's slaughterhouse.
And by the time the night was over, the Black Blade Gang would never be the same again.
Across the city, police radios crackled to life. Reports of gang activity, bloodied bodies, and a potential massive showdown had reached their ears.
Patrol cars began mobilizing, sirens wailing in the night.
Unknown to everyone, forces were converging on the abandoned factory district.
The storm was about to break.
Only one side would be left standing.