The air was thick with the smell of rust and old sea salt, the kind that clung to the endless rows of steel containers. Footsteps crunched against the gravel, steady and unhurried.
A lone man in a hoodie and worn jeans made his way toward one particular container, his shadow long in the late afternoon light.
It was Jin.
He glanced down at his right hand, flexing it slightly. The skin was smooth and pink — almost completely regrown. Days had passed since his injury, and now his arm had returned up to the knuckles. Only the fingers remained to grow back.
Twenty percent, he thought. Three more days at this rate , and it'll be whole again.
Today, he was here to check on Shikaku — at the very spot he'd told the man to hide. The Zero Gang had been using this container for some time, tucked away in a forgotten corner of the yard. Even Jin had needed effort to find it the first time.
He rapped his knuckles against the metal door. No answer. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he pictured Shikaku inside, torn between relief and dread.
"It's me. Open up," Jin called.
The door creaked open to reveal Shikaku — disheveled, unshaven, dark circles under his eyes. His green t-shirt and military cargo pants looked slept in.
"Now you show up," Shikaku muttered.
"Don't get sentimental," Jin replied with a crooked grin. "Look at you, all worked ."
"Easy for you to say. Come inside before someone sees us."
"Relax. This area's abandoned. Bring two chairs outside."
Shikaku disappeared into the container and returned with two folding chairs. They sat, and Jin produced a cigarette pack from his pocket, tossing it to him.
"Take two," Jin said.
Shikaku obeyed without complaint. Jin slipped the pack back into his jeans and flicked a lighter toward him. "Light mine too — you know my situation."
Jin raised his half-healed hand and wiggled the stumps of his fingers.
Shikaku's eyes widened. "Your arm… it's regrown? How?"
"Not answering. anything else ?"
Shikaku frowned. "Fine. How do you plan to deal with the Manji Clan?"
Jin didn't speak. Instead, three curved claws burst from his knuckle slowly , tearing through flesh with a wet sound. "By stabbing them."
"That's… cool," Shikaku admitted, "but what's your actual plan?"
"Let them come to us. Why do you think I picked this location?"
Shikaku froze. "You… you used me as bait?!"
"Calm down. You're smart. Think about it — you'll see the logic."
Shikaku's eyes narrowed as he pieced it together. "Instead of running and letting them wear us down… you draw them here and take them out in one strike."
"Precisely."
" But for that you have to be much stronger than them. And I'm talking about all of them — their entire force — plus their elders. Those guys have been honing their skills for decades."
"That's the hard part of the plan, yeah," Jin said, as if discussing the weather.
"Hey, you can't be so damn casual about this! You promised to keep me safe."
"Don't worry. To get to you, they'd have to kill me first — and that's going to be… difficult for them."
Jin leaned back in his chair. "Anyway, if you do see me losing, run. There's a tunnel in the container."
Shikaku blinked. "What tunnel?"
Jin stared at him like he'd just confessed to eating paint chips. "Idiot. Go look inside. And while you're at it — wash yourself."
Muttering, Shikaku stood and went to check.
At the same time, far from the yard, a sleek private bullet train slid into Kuoh Station. From its door stepped a tall man in a white coat, followed by several men in black suits.
The man's voice was cold as steel. "Find the traitor. And the boy who doesn't know the weight of this world. I'll kill them myself."
The guards bowed slightly. "Yes, sir."
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so who do you think the man in white coat is ?