The stars shimmered across the dark canvas of space, resembling a sprawling galaxy map.
Arakawa Zenkichi's eyes narrowed. "Found you."
In the image before him, a single dot pulsed with light, its glow growing stronger with each passing second. His expression sharpened. He was no fool—after all, only someone far beyond ordinary could rise to his level. To become the strongest meant instinct, cunning, and the refusal to ever be outwitted.
Long before his battle with the Dragon Man, Zenkichi had left a subtle mark on his opponent. A trace of his will lingered there, like a hidden beacon. It wasn't done with calculation, but more as a habit—something that came naturally to him. And now, that very habit gave him the path forward.
"What a coincidence," he muttered, his tone calm yet filled with steel. "I was already planning to deal with those pests. Now the trail leads right to them."
His gaze swept across the star map, locking on the region where the light flickered. "This galaxy… it's not near the Milky Way. That can only mean one thing. They're after the Wolf God."
The faintest smile curved his lips, though it carried no warmth. "If that's the case, then I'll cross the galaxy and crush them both. The Wolf God, the Dragon Man—no matter who's waiting, none will escape."
He vanished into the depths of space, his presence erased in an instant, as though the universe itself parted before him.
In truth, he didn't care whether his deduction was right or wrong. What mattered was simple—wherever he went, strength awaited. At the very least, he was certain the Dragon Man was there. And once the Dragon Man fell, everything else was irrelevant.
"It would be disappointing to travel so far and only kill one enemy," Zenkichi thought aloud, his tone dismissive, as though slaying such a foe was no different than sweeping aside dust.
If the Dragon Man had heard those words, he would have been driven to madness. Yet to Zenkichi, the opponent wasn't worth more than a single strike.
---
Elsewhere, across that distant galaxy, the Wolf God listened in silence.
"Yes," he finally said, giving his agreement to the one before him.
Over the past day, he had reconnected with his old subordinates, gathering fragments of intelligence. What he learned convinced him that the Dragon Man was telling the truth. That was why he chose cooperation—for no other reason than this: he wanted Arakawa Zenkichi dead.
"Without delay, let's strike now," the Dragon Man urged, his voice heavy with impatience.
The Wolf God hesitated. He had expected careful planning, the slow weaving of strategy, and the gradual gathering of power. Yet this man wanted immediate action, without waiting for strength to fully return.
In his own heart, the Wolf God knew he was not ready. His injuries had only just healed. What he needed was time—time to refine his body, time to sharpen his edge, time to face Zenkichi without fear.
"You're too reckless," the Wolf God muttered, frowning.
But the Dragon Man only shook his head. "No. Just right. There's no time to waste."
His body tensed, his senses sharpening. A familiar presence—one that filled him with dread—had stirred. It was faint but undeniable, as though a hunter's eyes were already on him.
The Wolf God felt it too. His gaze snapped toward the distant edge of the universe, where something vast and oppressive seemed to stir. His chest tightened.
That suffocating force could only belong to one man.
Arakawa Zenkichi.
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