Night draped Tōriku City in its shimmering cloak, neon veins pulsing through steel arteries. Above, the corporate towers gleamed with untouchable arrogance. Below, in the shadows where whispers thrived, Hiroshi Kurogane's empire moved like a ghost.
Black Viper stood at the edge of the Kurogane hideout's main hall, a sleek industrial space hidden beneath an abandoned train station. Concrete walls, polished steel, flickering monitors, and the faint scent of ozone set the stage. Members of SPECTER flowed through like shadows, each on a mission, none wasting a breath.
Yuki, clad in her signature black and crimson school uniform, paced in front of the digital board, her sharp gaze fixed on a live feed of the corporate news channel. Reports flashed across the screen: Kurogane Empire Declares Corporate Alliance, Syndicate Activity on the Rise, Anonymous Hacker Group Targets Government Servers.
Behind her, Hiroshi leaned casually against a pillar, chopsticks twirling in his fingers, the ever-present smirk ghosting his lips. His dark school blazer hung loose over a plain white tee — unassuming, unremarkable. And yet, when his gaze lifted, the room seemed to shift around him.
Black Viper, once a name feared in the underworld, felt a chill crawl down her spine. She had been an assassin, Syndicate's sharpest fang. And now? Now she was part of something larger — something she couldn't yet name.
"You'll be our shadow in the Syndicate," Hiroshi finally spoke, his voice smooth as silk and cold as a blade. "But you already knew that."
Black Viper crossed her arms. "I didn't expect a welcome party."
A laugh — soft, almost bored. Yuki tilted her head, eyes glittering. "We don't do parties. We do precision."
Hiroshi straightened, walking toward the center of the room. As he moved, the chatter died. Eyes turned.
"Tonight," he announced, "we remind the Syndicate that ghosts don't stay buried."
A ripple of anticipation surged through the room.
---
Midnight. Rooftops.
The Kurogane team moved across the city skyline, silent wraiths against the starlit expanse. Black Viper leapt between buildings with effortless grace, flanking Yuki and Hiroshi. Echo, the young hacker, fed them live data through earpieces.
"Target's on the 47th floor. Syndicate meet-up. Ten hostiles, two elites," Echo whispered.
Yuki grinned. "Child's play."
"Correction," Hiroshi murmured, landing beside her, "art."
As they reached the glass facade, Hiroshi raised his chopsticks. "Viper, you're up."
Without a word, Black Viper slipped through an open vent, weaving past cameras and lasers. Seconds later — a whisper through the comms: "Clear."
Inside, the Syndicate leaders sat in a velvet-draped lounge, smoke curling in the air, laughter thick. They never saw the silent shadows that crept toward them.
One by one, the guards fell. Lights flickered. Power surged. And then — silence.
A glass smashed against the wall. The Syndicate boss roared, "Who's there?!"
From the darkness, Hiroshi emerged, chopsticks in hand. "You really should check your windows."
Panic erupted — but it was too late.
Yuki moved like a storm, Black Viper like liquid steel. In minutes, it was over. Hiroshi's chopsticks rested against the Syndicate boss's throat, eyes calm, voice gentle.
"Run home. Tell them a new empire watches."
---
Dawn.
The city woke to chaos. News feeds exploded with headlines: Syndicate Meeting Raided, Masked Vigilantes Strike Again, Kurogane Heiress Sighted Near Crime Scene.
In the quiet of the Kurogane hideout, Hiroshi leaned over a steaming cup of tea, Yuki lounging on the couch, Black Viper polishing her blades.
"We've stirred the hornet's nest," Yuki mused.
Hiroshi smiled faintly. "Good. Let them sting. That's how you find the queen."
Black Viper tilted her head, watching Hiroshi with narrowed eyes. "Why not just crush them now?"
"Because," Hiroshi murmured, setting down his cup, "sometimes, you need to let the enemy believe they're still winning."
Outside, the sun crept over Tōriku's steel bones, casting long shadows — perfect for the ghosts who ruled beneath them.