Wandering the vibrant, chaotic streets, sharing a bag of hot takoyaki, and laughing until our sides hurt. As the neon signs began to outshine the setting sun, Ruyi tugged on my hand.
"Let's have dinner at my house tonight."
I raised a brow. "Your house?"
She smiled like it was no big deal. "Yeah. My dad's home. I want him to meet you."
Those words hit harder than I expected.
Meet her father.
In my world, that sounded scarier than any race or deal gone wrong.
But I nodded anyway. "Alright, lead the way."
Ruyi's home wasn't just a house — it was a mansion.
The kind of place that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover.
Marble floors, high ceilings, everything smelled faintly of roses and polished wood.
Then he appeared — Ragnar Ironveil.
He stood with an effortless authority that made the very air feel heavy. My every instinct, honed in back-alley fights and high-speed getaways, screamed at me. My spine straightened, my guard slamming up so fast I almost vibrated with the force of it. This was a predator in a tailored suit.
His gaze was sharp, his build solid — a man who'd seen things and lived to tell the tale.
"Welcome, Azazel," he said with a deep, composed voice. "I've heard a lot about you from my daughter here."
He stepped closer, offering a firm pat on my back — it felt more like a test than a greeting.
"You don't look Japanese" he continued with a grin. "What do they call you back in the U.S.? YN? Hah, I'm joking, of course."
I forced a smile. This guy knows a little too much.
Still, I played it cool. "Just Azazel is fine, sir."
Dinner was surprisingly calm.
The table was filled with dishes that looked too good to eat, and Ruyi kept glancing at me, stifling giggles whenever I struggled with the fancy silverware.
After a while, I asked,
"Ruyi, where's your mom?"
Before she could answer, Ragnar replied evenly,
"She's working overseas."
"Ah… I see," I said quietly, not pushing the topic.
The rest of dinner passed in easy conversation — or as easy as it could be under her father's sharp gaze.
Finally, Ruyi walked me out to the front gate. The night air was a relief. She was quiet for a moment, her fingers going to the delicate Rope around her neck. With a determined look, she unclasped it.
"Here," she said, pressing the necklace into my palm. The pendant was intricate, old, and felt warm from her skin.
I stared at it. "Ruyi... what is this?"
"It was a gift from my grandmother," she said, her voice soft but fierce. "It's the most precious thing I own. And I want you to have it. Because I love you."
Any thought of refusing died in my throat. I saw it in her eyes—the genuine happiness, the passion, the sheer, unshakable trust. This wasn't just a gift; it was a piece of her history, her soul. She was entrusting me with her anchor.
My fingers closed around the pendant, and I felt its weight settle deep inside me. "Thank you," I whispered, the words utterly inadequate. I leaned in, my lips meeting hers in a kiss that sealed a promise—a vow to be worthy of this gift, and of the incredible woman who gave it.
The city lights blurred behind us, but for that moment, nothing else existed.
Clutching the necklace in my fist, I knew my life had irrevocably changed the moment I crossed the Ironveil threshold.
(Narration)
That necklace wasn't just a gift.
It was a promise — one I didn't yet understand,
but one that would change everything that came after.
Back in the familiar, cluttered comfort of my own apartment, the weight of the day finally settled. I held Ruyi's necklace up to the dim light. The craftsmanship was stunning—a serpentine dragon woven from Quicksilver, its body coiling protectively around a central, pulsating crystal that seemed to hold a faint, inner light.
"This is… unbelievably cool," I muttered to the empty room, a grin spreading across my face. "I fucking love it." It was more than a piece of jewelry. it was a token. A promise.
I slipped it around my neck. It felt… oddly warm, almost like it was alive.
Weird. Probably just my imagination.
Just as I leaned back, my phone buzzed.The caller ID flashed: Handler.
"Hi, Azazel," her voice came through, calm and professional as always. "Could you help me with something? I'll send you the location."
A second later, a text pinged in — an address on the outskirts of Tokyo.
"Alright, got it," I replied.
"Thank you, Azazel. I owe you one," she said, hanging up.
The night air was cool as I slid into the 240Z, the engine rumbling to life beneath me. The drive was quiet, almost too quiet, until the GPS voice told me I'd arrived.
A warehouse.
Figures.
I parked outside and walked up to the massive steel door. It creaked open with a metallic groan.
Inside, the handler stood surrounded by stacks of files and cabinets, dust swirling around the single overhead light.
"Oh, Azazel, you're here!" she said, visibly relieved. "Could you help me sort these files? They're completely out of order."
I sighed, rolling my shoulders. "Something to kill time, I guess."
"You're a lifesaver," she said with a small grin.
I got to work, sorting the papers and stamping folders.
Half the stuff looked like random logistics reports.
The other half? Military-grade information, classified symbols, blacked-out names.
"Juicy stuff…" I murmured under my breath.
If I ever needed leverage or intel, this warehouse was a goldmine.
Not that I planned to use it — yet.
After a few hours, everything was back in order.
The handler thanked me again as I dusted my hands off.
"You work too much," I said with a half-smile.
"And you race too much," she shot back.
Touché.
When I got home, exhaustion hit like a wave. I dropped onto the bed, the necklace still hanging around my neck, glinting faintly in the dark.
Somewhere deep in the city, an engine roared — but I was already half-asleep.
Three days later.
Summer heat. Empty calendar.
And that faint, warm glow from the necklace…
It hadn't stopped since that night.
That evening, I hit up Ruyi's phone.
"Hey, want to go out tonight?"
Her reply came faster than I expected.
"Sure. Pick me up at seven."
The casual date was perfect. Just me and Ruyi, lost in our own world. As we walked, my heart hammered against my ribs with a rhythm more frantic than any engine. The plan, cold and calculated from a different life, was finally in motion. Bring her home. Get close. Use her.
But as I led her through my apartment door, the plan began to crumble.
One kiss, then another, deeper. Clothes fell to the floor, not as a strategic maneuver, but as a desperate, mutual need. When we fell onto the bed, the last vestiges of that old scheme evaporated. This wasn't a mission. This was nothing more than love. Every touch, every sigh was real. I was completely, terrifyingly present. A silent vow formed in the chaos: I will never, ever betray this.
The morning sun streamed in, painting her sleeping form in gold. We made breakfast, a simple, domestic scene that felt more surreal and rewarding than any race win. She kissed me goodbye at the door, her smile brighter than the dawn.
And then, she bumped into the Handler in the doorway.
"Sorry, ma'am! Bye, Azazel," Ruyi said with a cheerful wave. "Looks like you have company."
The air in the room turned to ice the moment the Handler stepped inside. She sank into my couch as if she owned it, her eyes following Ruyi's departing form.
"Your girlfriend is nice. And cute," she stated, her voice devoid of all warmth. "You should keep her at arm's length."
A hot, defensive anger surged through me. "Why?" I snarled, the word sharp and dangerous.
She didn't even flinch. She just looked at me, her gaze a surgical instrument ready to dissect my new life. "You? Asking why? Let's reminisce, Azazel. The Feds in five different states want you for a lovely portfolio of activities. One: selling drugs. Two: being an enforcer for a very dangerous gang. Three: escaping from your juvenile detention center... what was it, twelve times? Four: illegal street racing—well, you still do that one. And the grand finale, number five..."
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "You put a bullet in a man's head."
She stood, walking to the kitchen and helping herself to the food Ruyi and I had just shared. "So, take my advice as your handler and the one who scrubbed your record clean enough for this little vacation: Don't break that girl's heart. Because when your past comes knocking—and it will—the collateral damage will be her."
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, I exploded. I snatched my plate from the table and hurled it against the wall, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. The sound was a pathetic echo of the fury and fear inside me.
I spent the rest of the day drowning myself in the glow of my PC, the Handler's words on a torturous loop in my mind. When night finally fell, I fled. I took my car out and raced, pushing the engine until the scream of it was the only thing I could hear, trying to outrun the ghost of the person I used to be.
I returned hours later, empty and drained. I just sat on the couch in the dark, the flickering light of the TV washing over me, unable to erase the image of Ruyi's trusting smile or the sound of the Handler's grim warning. The two halves of my life had collided, and I was trapped in the wreckage.
The TV flickered.
The quiet hum of the apartment carried a strange weight — like even the air had stopped breathing.
I was half asleep on the couch when it started.
A faint vibration ran through the floor.
Then the lights began to flicker — once, twice — before bursting into a shower of sparks.
"...The hell?"
I stood up, every instinct screaming that something was wrong. Papers lifted off the desk, drifting lazily through the air as if gravity had forgotten its job. My coffee mug slid upward, spinning midair.
"Okay, that's new."
The temperature dropped, a biting chill crawling across my skin.
And then—
A sound tore through the room.
Like glass breaking inside my head.
I looked up.
Right above me, the ceiling twisted — warping into a whirlpool of light and shadow, a rift that pulsed with impossible energy.
"What the f—"
Before I could finish, the necklace around my neck flared to life — blindingly bright. The silver dragon that clung to it moved, its crystal pulsing between white and black.
Unaware of the necklace's strange reaction, I could only shield my eyes.
The next second, my body felt weightless.
"No, no, no, no—!"
The world shattered.
Wind screamed past my ears.
My stomach lurched.
I was falling — through clouds, through nothing.
The Tokyo skyline was gone.
All that remained was a dizzying expanse of night sky and moonlight.
Below me, rooftops rushed closer — too fast.
I crashed through a tiled roof, splintering wood and dust exploding around me before I hit the floor hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.
Pain came a second later — sharp, real, and far too vivid to be a dream.
I coughed, gasping for air.
The necklace still burned faintly against my chest.
"...Where the hell am I?"
The air smelled different — cleaner, sharper. The streets outside glowed with lantern light. The architecture was old — not retro, but ancient, like I'd stumbled into a period drama set come to life.
The signs were written in characters I didn't recognize.
And yet… I could feel them whispering to me.
The necklace pulsed once more, faintly — as if answering a question I hadn't even asked.
Whatever this place was…
It wasn't Tokyo anymore.