Episode 13 — Off-World Blood Crown
The ship rattled through slipspace, neon streaks of galaxies flashing past the windows.
Kairo Shin sat in the captain's chair like it was a throne, cigarette glowing in the dark cabin. His "crew" — broken gangsters, ex-cops, addicts too scared to betray him — huddled in silence behind him. They weren't soldiers. They weren't friends. They were pawns.
And Kairo knew exactly how to use pawns.
His intelligence at level 20 painted the map before him: worlds thick with cartels, corrupt politicians, and cops already sniffing for his blood.
First stop: Veyra-Prime. A planet owned by the Crimson Fang Cartel. The kind of place where drugs rained like water and corpses paved the streets.
Kairo smirked through the smoke. "Let's go make an introduction."
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Veyra-Prime
The city of Fangspire rose in jagged towers, red neon bleeding across skies thick with smog. Streets overflowed with addicts, prostitutes, and dealers. Guns outnumbered people. Police walked hand-in-hand with cartel thugs, both too busy snorting glow-dust to care.
The Crimson Fang Cartel didn't just run the city. They were the city.
And tonight, they were about to lose it.
The First Message
Kairo didn't sneak in. He walked straight down the main drag in his police jacket, boots loud against the concrete, cigarette smoke curling into the night.
Whispers rose as he passed.
"Holy shit—is that him?"
"The Immortal Cop…"
"They say he butchered Revenants—"
Cartel soldiers spotted him, laughed, and pulled weapons. "Hey, rookie—you lost?"
Kairo smirked. "Yeah. Lost my patience."
The tentacles burst out.
The first wave of soldiers died before they pulled triggers. Skulls popped, spines cracked, bodies painted the neon signs in dripping red. Civilians screamed and ran. Addicts cheered, too fried to care.
Kairo lit another cigarette on the burning corpse of a soldier, calm as ever. "Message delivered."
[Assassinations Confirmed.]
[Level Up: 21.]
[Intelligence Increased.]
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The Cartel Boss
By midnight, the Crimson Fang boss summoned his army. Hundreds of men in crimson jackets swarmed the plaza, weapons glowing, drugs pumping through their veins. At the center stood the boss himself — a giant brute with chrome fists and eyes dripping red light.
"Kairo Shin!" he roared. "This is my world! You're just a fucking headline!"
Kairo chuckled, stepping through the smoke. "Headline? Nah. I'm the obituary."
The army charged.
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The Blood Carnival
Tentacles exploded outward, shredding the mob. Men were impaled, torn in half, slammed against buildings. Chrome fists shattered against immortal steel. Plasma rounds bounced off his body as he healed mid-fight, laughing through the gore.
Kairo fought calm, efficient, disrespectful.
One soldier begged, dropping his rifle. "Please—I got kids!"
Kairo blew smoke in his face. "So do prostitutes. Don't see me sparing them." He crushed the man's skull.
Another cartel thug charged with a chainsaw blade, screaming. Kairo ripped it from his hands, shoved it into his mouth, and let it chew his face apart.
The addicts watching screamed and laughed like it was theater. Blood sprayed across their glowing eyes as they cheered.
The Boss Falls
The Crimson Fang boss roared, swinging his chrome fists like cannons. He smashed Kairo into the concrete, bones cracking, blood spraying.
Kairo coughed, laughed, and spat blood in his face. "Nice punch. Shame it's your last."
Tentacles erupted from every angle, wrapping the brute tight. He screamed as his chrome fists shattered under the pressure.
Kairo leaned close, whispering smoke into his ear. "You run this world? Not anymore. Consider yourself evicted."
The tentacles crushed him until his ribs burst, his skull caved, and his body collapsed into pulp.
The plaza fell silent, drenched in blood.
[Cartel Eliminated.]
[Level Up: 22.]
[Intelligence Increased.]
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The Comedy of Power
Kairo climbed onto the cartel boss's throne, dripping in blood, cigarette between his lips. He sat calm, surveying the plaza of corpses.
"Congratulations, assholes," he muttered. "You've got new management."
His recruits stepped forward, pale, terrified. Civilians stared in shock. Dealers dropped their guns, kneeling.
One addict screamed, "Long live Shin!" before collapsing into drugged laughter.
Kairo smirked. "Looks like the campaign's working."
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The Council Reacts
Back on Nexus, the High Council watched the broadcasts. Crimson Fang Cartel: wiped. Fangspire: drenched in blood. Survivors chanting Shin's name.
"He's not just killing anymore," one commissioner whispered. "He's conquering."
Another slammed the table. "He's spreading like a virus. If he owns the underworld, he owns the galaxy."
The High Councilor scowled. "Then we stop him now. No more experiments. No more soldiers. We burn every world he touches."
The Anti-Hero's Empire
That night, Kairo stood on Fangspire's tallest tower, smoke curling against the red sky. His intelligence sharpened, mapping not just Nexus, not just Fangspire, but galaxies. Cartels. Empires. Police. All of it.
He wasn't just a rogue cop anymore. He wasn't just a killer.
He was an emperor in the making.
And the galaxy was already bleeding under his crown.
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[Current Level: 22 | Intelligence Status: Conqueror. Orchestrates empires like chess boards. Cold, untouchable, building power across galaxies.]