Before the storyBillions of years ago, Earth was nothing but stone and silence—an empty sphere steeped in unspent power. Raw life energy, Tao, flooded its veins, yet no life stirred.From that pressure of creation, the first being emerged: Ragnarok, the primordial Yokai.It had no gender. No hunger. No will.It simply existed—Tao given shape.
Ages passed, and from the dust, humans arose.Unlike Ragnarok, they possessed an instinct: to survive.But survival was only the beginning. Humanity learned to grasp Tao itself—to forge it into blades, barriers, and miracles. With that mastery they built the Hunter Organization, sworn to destroy the Yokai.
Under Kin Yama, the First King, mankind united beneath one banner—the Kingdom of Humanity.
A thousand years later, that unity burned away. When Kin Yama's four sons were meant to share the throne, greed tore them apart. War followed, and from its ashes rose four nations:
Sao Kingdom
Yoru Kingdom
Natsu Empire
Zenith Republic
They shared only one law: if only one prince remains, he shall be crowned King.None ever have.
But one still dreams of claiming that crown.His name is Akira Yamato.
A sharp knock rattled the thin wooden door.
"Akira!"
A rough voice cut through his sleep.
"You still haven't paid for this inn!"
Akira groaned awake, head pounding. He rummaged through his pockets and found one battered bill—the last of his money. He pressed it into the innkeeper's palm.
"Pleasure doing business," the man sneered. "Now get out."
Out on the street, Akira stretched until his joints cracked. Morning light caught the streaks of white through his black hair.
"Broke again," he muttered. "Guess I've got no choice but to visit her."
The shop was easy to miss—a crooked door between taller buildings, the air thick with herbs and old paper.Behind the counter sat an elderly woman, eyes sharp despite her wrinkles.
"Ah, Akira," she said, smiling. "Back already? Down on your luck?"
He yawned. "Yeah. Got anything for me?"
She slid a folded note across the counter. "Bodyguard job. Some Atlas developer. Pays decent."
Akira pocketed it. "Thanks, Granny."
"Don't call me Granny," she snapped, though her smirk betrayed amusement.
He was already outside, phone to his ear."Hello? I'm here about guarding an Atlas developer."
"You're the one she mentioned?"
"…Yeah."
"Good. Meet me here. Ten minutes."
A location pinged on his screen—ten miles away.
Akira stared at it. "You've gotta be kidding me."
He ran.
Through alleys and over rooftops, vaulting carts and fences until the city blurred behind him. When he finally stopped, lungs burning, he faced an Atlas warehouse lined with ten hired guards.
"…Guess these are the others."He slicked back his hair and joined them.
Two men stepped out—one in a tailored black suit, the other a nervous aide.
"You will escort me to a facility three miles east," the developer said without greeting. "There are no Tao barriers or seals so we may encounter some Yokai naturally."
Akira arched a brow. All this for a walk?
A woman among the guards spoke up. "We'll need a Taoist, or at least a Tao-infused weapon. Otherwise, I'm out."
"Sit down," the developer ordered. "It's only three miles."
His assistant whispered, "Sir, perhaps we should wait for the Hunters—"
"They're unnecessary. If a Yokai appears, we'll be close enough to lose anyone needed."
Akira exhaled. Charming.
The forest swallowed their path, shadows thick between the trees. Silence pressed. Man this dude is arrogant, but still, pay is pay, and being paid to walk a few miles is great.
The branches rustled.
Something moved—fast.
A lizard-headed Yokai dropped from the canopy, horns curling like roots, green-black scales glinting in the dim light. It hissed once—and lunged.
Two guards fell before anyone breathed.
The creature's tongue lashed out, wrapping three more men and smashing them against the earth until bone gave way. Panic erupted. Some drew weapons; others ran. Gunfire sparked uselessly off its scales.
The developer fired blindly while his assistant screamed. Both were dragged through the dirt.
Akira watched, heartbeat steady, eyes alive. Not joy—purpose. There is a saying for humans, that no if you are not a Taoist, you should not try to be involved in the world of Taoists, whether it be Yokai or conflict with a Taoist, you should steer clear because it always ends tragically. I always brushed it off, but now I have to learn the hard way. Why?
I don't even have a gun,, all I have is- he looked down to his hands, He leapt, twisting mid-air, fist hardened, and struck the Yokai squarely.
It barely flinched. One swipe hurled him through four trees. Trunks shattered; air left his lungs in a single gasp.
Gunfire faltered.One swing—and silence.
Only the developer remained, trembling."P-please… someone! Help me!"
The Yokai grinned and impaled him through the chest. A plastic ID card tumbled to the ground.
Pinned beneath splintered wood, Akira's blurred gaze fixed on the name: Steven Yung.A dry chuckle escaped his lips."…Hah. This sucks."
Darkness crept over him.The last thing he saw was motion—two Hunters dropping from the canopy, blades gleaming.
"Sora, is he alive?""Hopefully."