Renzako felt his aura being drained and absorbed by Takeshi's sword. Instinctively, he spun toward Yamikaji's severed arm lying on the ground.
Raiz and his group thought Renzako had turned toward them, and consumed by overwhelming fear, they barely managed to flee on their trembling legs—running from the monster they had once mistaken for a hero.
Renzako grabbed Yamikaji's arm and ran off without a second thought, a smile cracking through the perpetual scowl on his face as he repeated internally:
"So you're here, Takeshi!"
Renzako vanished, leaving behind only the scattered bloodstains. Moments later, someone stepped out from the shadows—someone who had been observing everything.
It was Koji. Sweat dripped down his face nonstop, his widened eyes on the verge of bursting.
He sighed and muttered to himself:
"A real monster… So this is the one who's been hunting our gang members, not Takeshi… or maybe both of them?"
Rumors had spread since last night about the deaths of many gang members across the city, reaching even the higher ranks. At first, Koji assumed Takeshi was responsible—but after seeing this man and his terrifying strength, he became certain this was the hunter.
"If he keeps going at this rate, he'll wipe out the entire gang… and he might kill me too!
And even if I survive, where will I get the money to pay for my sister's treatment?"
Koji leaned against the wall, closing his eyes before exhaling heavily:
"Damn it… Every scenario in my head ends the same way.
But… at least Yamikaji's tyranny has finally stopped."
***
Elsewhere, Vard and Joso were struggling to carry Yamikaji, their trembling legs barely supporting them.
Suddenly, Vard collapsed from exhaustion—his terrible stamina betraying him. His fall made Joso lose balance, causing the three of them to crash to the ground.
"What are you doing?! We have to keep moving or the boss will die! We need to get him back to our base or to a hospital, right—"
"Shut up!"
Vard shouted, cutting him off.
"Our panic is clouding our judgment! If these neighborhoods weren't abandoned, we would have been dead already. You know how much the townspeople hate our gang! And you're talking about going to a public hospital? Or crossing the entire city?"
Joso clenched his teeth and stood up.
"So you're really going to abandon our leader? Did you forget everything he did for us? Tell me—"
"I forgot nothing! But we have to face reality. If we don't leave him, we'll die too. We can barely stand."
Joso felt hope drain from his chest… but memories stirred within him, bringing back a faint flicker.
"No… you did forget."
***
Years earlier…
In an open clearing deep within a forest, a group of shackled men stood in chains. Some were in decent shape; others were barely alive.
They were slaves awaiting the buyer who would strip away their freedom for a few coins.
Among them were two men—one tall and thin with messy red hair, the other bald, short, and overweight. They were Joso and Vard.
They stood side by side, though at that time, neither knew the other.
Soon, the slave trader arrived—Kursh—followed by a man in the White King Gang uniform. His brown hair draped over his wrinkled skin, and his green eyes scanned the slaves. It was Yamikaji.
Kursh extended his hand toward the chained men.
"Choose what you want."
Yamikaji walked along the line, examining each one carefully—searching for a valuable purchase. Slave trading was forbidden in the Autumn Nation of Orival, so these deals happened in secret, with trusted clients only.
He suddenly stopped in front of Vard and Joso, a faint smirk on his face.
"Red hair, huh?
And you—bald. Tall and skinny… and you're short and fat. Opposites."
He tossed two coin pouches to Kursh.
"I'll take these two opposites."
That moment changed the entire course of their lives. They had lived normal, peaceful lives—until slavers attacked their village and tore them from their families.
Out of everyone, only Vard and Joso were sold to Yamikaji.
The rest were taken elsewhere.
In time, Vard and Joso became members of the White King Skull Gang under Yamikaji's supervision.
***
Memories rippled through their minds—no matter what, abandoning the man who had chosen them felt impossible.
"Oh… he's lost a lot of blood."
A faint voice drifted from behind them, carried by a cold breeze. They turned and saw its owner.
It was Graid, known as the Ice Blossom.
He raised his hand, a blue aura gathering around it as solid ice formed along his palm.
"I can freeze the wound to stop the bleeding."
"But there's a condition."
Just when they thought their problem was solved, new questions arose.
"Neither of you will say a word about the person who stole Yamikaji's sword."
"What? You think we'll stay silent about our leader's stolen property?!"
A wicked grin spread across Graid's face, the ice creeping toward the corners of his smile.
"You'll stay silent… if you want your leader to live."
They had no choice. In this situation, it was the only way.
But then, Joso suddenly realized something.
"You mean… you were there when we were attacked?"
"Yes. But what would you have me do? You were the ones attacking innocent poor people first. And since it wasn't an official mission, I had no obligation to step in.
Still… my soft little heart fluttered seeing a comrade injured so badly."
Vard stood beside Joso, both looking at Yamikaji's bloody body.
"Fine. Just do it."
Graid placed his frozen hand over the wound, threads of blue aura weaving into solid ice that sealed the severed area.
The freezing chill around him vanished instantly, the frost on Graid's body evaporating—only the ice on Yamikaji remained.
Graid turned to leave, his trademark smirk returning.
"And don't tell him I saved him.
His filthy pride might shatter even more.
Hahahahaha!"
He walked away, mockery dripping from his laughter until he disappeared.
***
Meanwhile, in the city's commercial district—where cramped, narrow streets dominated—the atmosphere was as suffocating as usual.
Souta sat in front of his worn-out cart filled with cheap goods. His sales were improving slowly—not by much, but better than the first day.
He waited absentmindedly for a customer when suddenly, a rolled-up paper smacked him from behind. He nearly jumped like a startled cat.
He turned to see Scorpion behind him, wearing his usual fake smile. Souta's mood instantly soured, but he forced a polite smile in return.
"Hello, boss. How are yo—"
Scorpion cut him off:
"Man, slave traders are popping up everywhere."
"Huh?"
He was holding a weekly newspaper summarizing major events from across the country.
Scorpion continued:
"Eldra Village was nearly taken over by slavers at the same time you were traveling from Thessalia. But two heroes stepped in and saved it."
Souta leaned back, puzzled.
"Really? Who are those hero— wait… what?!"
He jumped to his feet and snatched the newspaper.
A large bold headline dominated the page—under it a rough sketch resembling Takeshi. Souta recognized him instantly.
'So that's how it is… We've become famous, Takeshi!
But… why didn't they draw me too?'